There was a quiet ticking in the living room, seconds marked by solitary mechanical clicks. Stepping past the brittle silence, a solitary figure made its way towards the darkened kitchen, shadows drifting across the pale white tiles. The figure stopped, head tilting to check on the red digits displayed at the centre of ticking hands, clear lines indicating the time.

3.00 A.M.

Minseok wasn’t sure when this had turned into a habit, the break in his sleep at the exact same moment, eyelids teased open by something more than pale moonlight filtering through window panes. But it seemed his mind thought otherwise, refusing to return to quiet sleep and blank thoughts. And so it was that he found himself inching his way past the soft snores from Sehun and the interjection of rustling sheets from one of the four other rooms, likely Jongin or Baekhyun sleeping through a restless night. He was careful, soft footsteps soundless. The rest needed the sleep, rest was sparse and tired bones and weary muscles needed to be well rested in time for another early start, the moments where images and thoughts didn’t flicker beneath closed eyelids too fleeting, too temporary.

A small kettle was lifted from the rack above, plug inserted into the socket and water added together with coffee extract. As the dark liquid was left to bubble quietly, Minseok traced the shadows outlining the tables and chairs, the small objects laid around the room in a familiar array. Preoccupied, he ran his fingers over the sharp edges of the counter, cool marble against his skin. When had they returned to Korea? Right, just a few weeks ago. He supposed that the reunion had been bright somewhat but he had to be blind not to miss the subtle undertones of something amiss, vacancies in places where there were meant to be 10, now reduced to 8 from unexpected injuries and urgent calls back home.

There were times when he would catch Sehun glancing at a blank phone screen, wistful, eyes listless as he returned to his room immediately after a day spent on parquet flooring and mirrors. Or the times, he would notice Joonmyeon fretting over details, forgetting the schedule for the day or voice weathered as he addressed them at the end of the day, features straining to remain lifted up even as he faced seven weary faces waiting to be dismissed.

Somewhere along the way, the flame at their veins and pressing against their skin had been snuffed. Somewhere along the way, footsteps had been lost, the comforting echo of others resounding beside your own absent, silence filling in the blank spaces.

He should have done more. It was his responsibility. How, how could he have let things slip through his fingers so easily, water across skin as the pieces had dropped from his palms?

From across the static of thoughts and twisted guilt, he heard the hiss of steam. Reaching forward, the single switch was flicked back, the kettle falling silent. His fingers closed around the metal, blindly pouring it out onto the mug placed on the counter.

Why, why wasn’t I there more often? What did I miss out?

“Ash! Damn it.” He bit down on his lip, hard enough to taste salt through cracked skin. There was coffee across the counter top, indistinguishable dark liquid pooling across the surface, wetting his skin and burning it at the spots where the two were in contact.

“Hyung? Minseok hyung is that you?” There was a bleary response coming from the doorstep of the kitchen, a head of soft waves peaking from behind the door. Minseok recognized the sharp cheekbones and the curious slant of the figure by the door, visibly relaxing as his hands continued to search for a spare towel to mop up the mess.

“Yah, Jongdae go back to sleep. It’s 3.”

“Hyung I could ask you the same thing.” By now, Jongdae had silently padded over to where Minseok still stood, hands trailing over cabinets and racks having failed to land on spare cloth till then.

“I… just needed some coffee. It’s nothing.” He received a hum in response before the space beside him was occupied by air once more. The quiet stillness returned momentarily, to be broken by a hand reaching forward cloth in hand, to wipe up the slowly spreading pool of coffee against marble.

“Hyung go sit down in the living room. I’ll be out in a while after I dry this.”

“Jongdae you don’t…” His whispers were cut off by a gentle shove towards the door, away from the kitchen top that was now clean and the kettle that had been drained. Breathing a sigh, he resigned himself to do as he had been told, a small pillow held to himself as the monotonous ticks continued, accompanied by the stead lull of quiet snores and the intermittent sounds of tousling.

“Here you go hyung. I’m sorry, it’s instant. Not much you can do in three minutes unfortunately.” Minseok’s gaze flicked up, to see Jongdae’s half hooded features caught between the slanting rays of streetlight from roads that had long since fallen silent and the shadows flickering and shifting across the walls. There was a cup being offered to him, soft steam rising off the surface to warm his face despite the distance in between. He stared blankly, a quiet chuckle from above breaking the lull.

“I made one for myself too. You used to drink coffee with Lu Han hyung, didn’t you?” He nodded mutely; he had but those days were long gone, stored somewhere between hectic concerts and days that had blurred into one another till it was nothing more than the snapshot of a memory left to collect dust at the back of his thoughts. Still, he found himself reaching forward to accept the cup and the warmth seeping into his palms and bones with quiet satisfaction.

“Thank you Jongdae. You didn’t have to, really.”

“It’s alright. I couldn’t sleep anyways.” Yet at that moment, a traitorous yawn escaped his lips, stifled in time by a mug brought to his lips hastily, eyes curling at the edges as the hot liquid was consumed.

“Liar. Go sleep. I’ll clean up the mugs. We need to be up early tomorrow. There’s the photo shoot. Can’t have you yawning your way through it.” Minseok reached forward, easing the now empty mug from fingers clasped loosely around the handle. Jongdae’s mouth widened inadvertently as another rush of air was taken in, an abrupt yawn cutting off words that were about to be said.

“Oh right the photo shoot. Thanks hyung.” Jongdae got up, eyes half-lidded and closing on themselves despite the caffeine still on his tongue, still circulating through his veins. Minseok found a slow smile inching its way across his lips, the impulsive urge to ascertain one last question before the cover of pale clouds against navy dispersed and the cover they provided was lost to time once more.

“Hey Jongdae, you think we’ll be fine?” Jongdae paused, steps halting across the cold tiles abruptly before turning to fix Minseok with the characteristic upturn of the edges of his lips that Minseok had grown so used to by then.

“Of course hyung. You’ll be ok, we’ll all be ok. Nights.” And he slipped into the cavernous shadows of one of the rooms, door slowly shut behind him.

Minseok glanced up at the clock, once more accompanied by nothing more than the solid tick of gears.

The red, glowing digits read out a clear 4.00 A.M.