01:17 AM.

He falls, landing on his bed, his socks still on. He doesn't even bother taking them off, instantly grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

No messages, no calls. He stops. Stares.

01:18 AM.

He misses Minseok so much he thinks he'll break.

01:19 AM.

"Hi," he writes, erases, types again. "I miss you," he types a dozen times, a dozen ways before stopping.

01:21 AM.

"Hey," he finally sends. He waits, waits, waits.

01:20 AM.

"Hey," Minseok replies, "Why are you still up?"

01:20 AM.

"I miss you," Luhan types, deletes. "Just arrived. Filming."

01:22 AM.

"Oh. You should go sleep."

01:22 AM.

"I will. Did I wake you up?"

01:22 AM. 

His phone rings. Minseok. He stares at it, not really comprehending. He just answers the call instinctively–— not fully comprehending, really.

"You can't sleep?" 

Luhan almost, almost, almost breaks down. 

"I miss you," he wants to say, "I miss you so much. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you." 

Instead, he sighs and answers, "I've been, well, having a hard time sleeping these days."

Minseok takes a while to answer. "Yeah, me too."

Silence. 

"I miss you," Minseok says, a bit too fastly, skipping breaths and filling the silence with so much pain which comes with these three words. Luhan almost cries. "Well, you should go to sleep. You're busy with that movie, right?" 

There is that faintest hint of pain in Minseok's voice and Luhan's voice trembles when he says, "Yeah. Yeah, goodnight. Thanks for talking to me. It always helps."

Minseok gives a tiny laugh. "I know. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

A few seconds.

"I miss you."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Luhan."

01:33 AM.

He hangs up and thinks blankly. 

Maybe tomorrow he'll get used to this. He'll get used to not being with Minseok anymore, or at least maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Maybe tomorrow he'll understand that he never will. Not for a long time, at least. 

"I'm leaving."

Furrowed eyebrows. A frown. 

"What?"

The air he breathes hurts his lungs. Why is it so hard? 

"I'm leaving the group."

Pause. Realization.

"I can't make you stay, can I?"

He wants to stay. He can't.

"I—I love you, Minseok."

Pain. Pain. Pain.

"But I can't make you stay."

He looks at him, eyes pleading. His eyes say the thousands of words his lips can't muster.

"We can make it work. China, Korea. It doesn't matter."

Pain.

"Can we, Luhan? With your parents? With the company? With the media?"

He cries, then. He knows they can't. 

"What else can I do?"

The word comes out like he has always known. Maybe, he has always. 

"Stay."

Silence. 

Hesitation.

An answer.

"I understand. Don't answer. "

End.

A/N: I MISS XIUHAN SO MUCH I THINK I'LL BREAK.

Also at http://inseouls.livejournal.com/1726.html