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(a/n: when narrating Hyuk's mental state, I would like to put some trigger warning just in case. forgive mee cos I forgot to put it on the first part)

tw // mentions or hints about: depression, panic attack, suicidal thoughts 

[the breakup through hyukjae's eyes] 2/2

He couldn't get up from his makeshift bed on the couch for two days, so Hyukjae took a leave from his work. He tried calling Donghae again. In vain, of course. When the sun was close to set, Hyukjae finally found the strength to get up.

He took Donghae’s padded coat, just in case. Just in case. He had no plan of approaching the boy when he saw him later. Ensuring his safety and his well being should be enough, even when it was done from afar.

The padded coat weighed a ton on the crook of his arm, heavy as his heart. 

A week without his sunshine and suddenly everything was either heavy or gray.

He parked his car a few meters away from the university’s closest bus stop, a safe distance where Donghae couldn’t see him, but still close enough for Hyukjae to watch him. He wasn’t there to stalk, or so he had told himself, not exactly. It felt more like a desperate attempt to wash away the longing in his heart, the urge to ensure that Donghae was safe. Maybe seeing his face for a fleeting moment, even from afar, could ease the tight knot forming permanently at the base of Hyukjae’s chest, the way his throat closed up with something akin to cotton.

The wait was a torture. Each passing minute stretched into a lifetime, punctuated by his nervous drumming on the steering wheel. Donghae wore bright colors, if not neutral. But would he, in the midst of a heartbreak, donned such joyful colors? Hyukjae’s heart ached. The longing in his chest was a physical ache. He yearned to see his smile again. Even if it was a mere glimpse, a fleeting moment from afar. He would take anything.

A flash of a familiar figure caught his eyes. Amidst the crowd, stood Donghae, his usual bright eyes replaced by a frown. His gaze was empty, if not casted down. The sight stole Hyukjae’s breath away. He watched, frozen in his place, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm as Donghae boarded the bus.

Hyukjae gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

As expected—the bus pulled over by the train station. Hyukjae got out of his car and followed his boy from afar, thinking that he would end up going into his old work place, the minimarket with an unbearable work mate, or maybe the piano. He was never ready when Donghae turned around a corner and slipped into a dimly lit bar in a secluded area of the station.

A spike of adrenaline shot through his system. His heart lurched, a frantic bird trying to break free. The memories of what happened on New Year’s Eve were still fresh, gnawing at the back of his mind and making his hands tremble. A wave of protectiveness sent a jolt to his heart and made him dizzy. He envisioned it, his boy, innocent and trusting—fell into the arms of some random man, his inhibitions downsized by the alcohol. The bar was the last place Donghae needed to be in his current state.

Why did you go there? Hyukjae cried inwardly, his breath heaved as he practically ran towards the entrance. Why did you always offer your neck to every knife you see?

He nearly burst through the door. There he saw him—a lone figure hunched over at the barstool. His usual energy was replaced by a slumped posture, his shoulders sagged in defeat. He looks heartbreakingly small. A wave of protectiveness washed over Hyukjae, a fierce urge to shield his boy from the harsh realities of the world, a reality that he had contributed by shutting Donghae out.

“Baby—” he choked, and held back. 

Donghae looked younger than his actual age. A stark reminder of the innocence Hyukjae had taken for granted. The grotesque bar seemed so out of place for the boy. He had let the monster win the battle. The darkness that engulfed his boy in his dream was here, in the shape of the lost look in Donghae’s usually carefree gaze.

He stormed out of the bar, hunching against the wall to let out a silence scream.

Minutes later, the bar door creaked open.

Hyukjae’s breath caught. There, under the blinking downlight, stood Donghae.

My baby.

Their eyes met, and Hyukjae could never mistake the relief and longing that was louder than the silence in Donghae’s widened eyes. But it was a flicker; hurt and stubbornness set his jaws tight. His baby looked smaller than ever in the vastness of the night. A fragile little thing meant to be huddled in Hyukjae’s protective arms, not in the corner of some random bar at night.

And dear God. He was beautiful.

A pang of longing soared in his soul. He wanted to pull Donghae close. Wanted to blow warmth into his frozen hands. Wanted to take him away and home and protect him, wanted to wipe away every single tear falling from those supposedly bright eyes.

Instead, he walked slowly, in the manner of a man approaching a scared kitten.

“What is a little boy doing here, out in the cold?” His voice sounded rough. “Not even dressing up properly.”

Myriad emotions flickered over Donghae's face. Was it anger, or disappointment? Was it hope, or resentment? A frown marred his youthful face. Hyukjae tried to wrap the padded coat around his boy, as a silent plea for forgiveness. 

But Donghae flinched away. The rejection stung, and for a moment, Hyukjae found himself unable to utter any semblance of words. His boy has always been clingy, wanting Hyukjae's gentle touch and attention all the time. Now, he stepped away, only an arm reach, while at the same time, a lifetime away.

“Did you drink the alcohol?” He blurted out, maybe a little bit sharper than he intended, because the boy shrunk just a little bit, a slight defiant frown displayed on his eyebrows.

“And what if I did?” The boy retorted petulantly. “Why would you care?”

Hyukjae tiredly closed his eyes. “Hae…”

Donghae pursed his lips. “I didn’t drink a single drop of it,” he snapped hotly, looking up at the man in a stubborn manner. But Hyukjae could read him like a book; the softening of his voice, the stubbornness that melted into a tinge of exhaustion. “Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?”

Relief washed over Hyukjae, so intense it almost knocked him off balance.

“Good boy,” he rasped, tears threatening to fall. “Good boy.” He repeated, because he didn’t know what to do with his emotion.

“Your pity won’t make things any less different, Hyukjae.”

“Please give me one more chance,” Hyukjae asked him—begged him. “You will always have the option to walk away if you want to—” Don't walk away. Don't walk away from me, baby. Don't leave me. I couldn't live. “—if it makes it easier. But please, Donghae. Please give me one more chance.”

If you leave me, sunshine. I would die.

Donghae started crying. The sight of him crying was a physical blow to Hyukjae. It stole the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. Each tear that escaped, glistening like a fallen star under the harsh streetlights, shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“I wouldn't survive…” the precious boy sobbed. “... if you throw me away again, I wouldn't be able to survive for the second time—”

Hyukjae's breath hitched. Baby, no. Never in his wildest dream, he ever had the thought of throwing his baby away. He was destined to be in Hyukjae's arms. To be loved, to be protected. Not to be thrown away.

“I have never thrown you away,” Hyukjae rasped. “You chose to walk away, baby. Never ever I thought to throw away someone so precious to me. Let alone you.”

Please stop crying. With every tear that fell from Donghae’s eyes, a part of Hyukjae shattered. He reached out, but Donghae flinched.

“I’m exhausted,” the boy cried, his hands swiping ineffectually at the tears that streamed down his gaunt face. “Just let me be, I won’t bother you anymore, hyung. I won’t beg you to love me again, I swear I won’t, so just…”

He turned away, as if he was going to run, but Hyukjae thought, no. Not again, not letting his baby slip off his hands again. Not for the second, third time.

Hyukjae reached out and caught Donghae’s arm.

“I love you,” Hyukjae choked. “Donghae, I love you too.”

The weight of these words, after years running away from the monster that chased him—tumbled out in a rush. It felt like a physical release, a dam bursting open. Hyukjae's heart physically throbbed in pain; there was the familiar dread settling at the base of his stomach, the way his vision reduced into a pinprick; the tell tale signs of a panic attack. But at this very moment, everything seemed insignificant. Donghae's hold tightened around his hand, even just for a fleet, in the moment of shock upon hearing the three words he never thought Hyukjae would say. The pressure of his small hand, the softness of it—was enough for Hyukjae to pull himself back and stand his ground.

Donghae’s breath hitched. He entirely froze, caught in a sudden downpour of intense emotions. Disbelief marred his flushed face, something akin to hope flickered across his doe eyes, a sight so heartbreaking Hyukjae wanted to fall on his knees and cry.

“Don’t lie.” He whispered thickly, his face as white as the moon.

“I never lie.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m crying.” 

How do I make you understand, baby? "This whole thing, it was never about Jongwoon. Not at all. There's something more… something that Jongwoon couldn't change." 

Donghae's eyes widened at the mention of Jongwoon's name. Maybe it's anger. Maybe it is disbelief. How should Hyukjae tell him, that he was that boy from his past? How should Hyukjae tell him that these feelings that lingered everytime Donghae fell into his arms, was a fate transcended through a lifetime?

How should he make the boy understand, that Hyukjae died a little more with every second Donghae slipped away from his arms?

"So what," Donghae gritted his teeth, hurt and disbelief gracing his being. "So what? You came all the way here just to rant about Jongwoon?"

“No,” No, no, no. How do I make you understand, baby? "Jongwoon could never be you," he added desperately. "He never weakened all of me, never brought me down on my knees, never once. But you. You do. You made me weak. Every time… when you are gone…”

He couldn’t hold back. With trembling hands, Hyukjae reached out, delicately touching his boy’s face, caressing his cheeks. The contact nearly sent his sanity spiraling. It was like something had clicked in him. Like a complete missing piece. There was nothing real in all the times I didn’t touch you.

"I love you. I nearly lost you not only twice but thrice. And ever since you left, I—I can't live… not even a day, Donghae. Not even a ing day. You make me—you make me feel… feelings. You are not only brave. You made me brave, made me brave enough to feel love, something that used to scare me when I was younger. Your mere existence gave me reasons to be brave again. You gave me reasons to continue living."

For the first time since he encountered Donghae, Hyukjae actually took a good look at how Donghae presented himself. He was lacking winter clothes, yes, that was the obvious. Hyukjae wasn't talking about his reddened nose, nor his puffy, red rimmed eyes that he obtained from so