ChangKyun is the one who carries physical reminder of the sandy battle field as he literally lost a part of himself there. If his lost limbs can be replaced, then what Wonho lost that day is irreplaceable. He lost more, no matter how weird it might seem.

ChangKyun had tendencies neither him nor Hoseok could control. . Any chance his body and clouded mind saw to harm itself wouldn’t be left unused. He was unawarely yet awarely self destructive and nothing could stop it when it came to everyday life. Yet Hoseok was determined to win over the fog that clouded ChangKyun's mind, even if it meant to sacrifice and 

The world behind these brick walls is a smog filled, grey and foggy madness, filled with monsters shaped like humans and humans lost in the forms of monsters. But here, where the fire is crackling quietly and the kettle is whistling softly everything is perfect - if only for a little bit.

Wonho run out of time to tell how much ChangKyun means to him. ChangKyun on the other hand has never gathered the courage to tell all he feels and thinks. This is and isn't the right time simultaneously, but this a chance that can't be left unused, even if it hurts.

Bounded with proscription, paralized with fear and denial, incinerated by infinite love  not being able to breath, to understand, to move, to love, to live, to speak - will he end like that? 

ChangKyun is weak. He knows it. He also knows that he is useless and a nuisance, that he is good for nothing and only a broken shell the man holding him doesn’t want to throw away because of pity. At the same time he knows the man who is rocking him back and forth so gently, petting his hair and laying soft kisses on top of his head loves him and is ready to go through hell and back for him. ChangKyun knows all of that and that only breaks him more and more.

As long as he remembered, he had always followed DongWoo - already from their nearly first steps in forbidden corners of their so called home, to their first bike ride along the Han river, till now – breaking all limits and racing trough the night.

Minhyuk needs Hyunwoo. He needs him more than he needs air, more than he needs the crumbled up cigarettes in the ashtray.  He’s like nalorphine, cleaning Minhyuk’s lungs from the layer of tar each cigarette has left there, from the stains of nicotine and aftertaste of tobacco. He was Minhyuk's saving grace, his cure, while Minhyuk himself was a poison and he knew it far too well.

He was right there, just a hand reach away, just mere centimeters away from Kevin – his head down in concentration, lyrics quietly flowing from his lips. He was right there – his scent hitting Kevin’s nose, warmth radiating even from his back. He was right there, but yet too far away to reach for.