He found the cigarette pack under the blood red sofa, thinking that Luhan probably wanted to play some tricks on him again, even though he doesn't quite remember when was the last time he had seen the boy. The room was poorly lit, leaving shadows dancing on the empty furniture, making everything seem alive, even just for a few seconds. Here and there, ripped pages of his journal remained still, the scribbled words on them whispering quietly of a boy, a boy who hold the midnight in his eyes.