(A/N: It's a blanket.)

Prompt: Letters from an inanimate object. 

Donghae,

   I missed you.

    You used to come into this room, every morning, to “wake Hyukjae up”. You’d come in and you’d sit at the edge of the bed, and I would soak in your presence. For some reason, your nightgown always matched my colours. (Sometimes I considered that you may only have a few nightgowns). From the edge of the bed, you’d somehow shift over under me. You’d be comfortable then. Hyukjae would slip his arms around your waist, and you’d put your around his neck. I could feel the love and ease between you guys, from where I was. And you’d smell like toothpaste and hand soap, because you’d always tell Leeteuk that you would only go in to show Hyukjae how fresh you were, and how he should be too.

    At nights, Hyukjae would slip out from under me. I could feel his annoyance, but also endearment. You’d come knocking every night. It was always expected. When the clock buzzed 3 am, you’d buzz, “Hyukkie hyung!” You’d be groggy, tired. You didn’t like Hyukjae to be asleep while you were awake. I understood. And then both of you would come to me and lie down for a while. Hyukjae would pull me over you, but my warmth could hardly compare to his. You couldn’t see him smiling out his insults to you, but I could. And you know he didn’t mean them anyway.

    When Super Junior gained popularity, I’d see you less often. Mostly it was because you had gotten too busy to come and disturb Hyukjae everyday. And for a small part it was because he finally had enough money to buy himself a few more blankets to switch me around with. You still would come, though. Maybe on alternate nights, maybe once a week. On the days when you did come, but I was not there, I would pine for you in the laundry basket. Sometimes I’d convince myself you were longing for my warmth too.

    I missed you even more when your overseas trips got more frequent. Hyukjae would never take me along. He had another favourite blanket, you see. But it wouldn’t know how much you meant to me. I know you always preferred me. The red and white favourite of Hyukjae’s could never match up to my colour scheme that you loved so much. When you were away, I’d be folded neatly on the floor of Hyukjae’s room. It was cold and empty, and I’d always wait for you to come back. You were always the one who folded me. You would of course know where to find me when you came back.

    Then all the members started leaving. And even from just seeing you at the doorway, I could tell you were hurting, seeing them leave. Soon the noisy nights when Leeteuk would get home late no longer happened. Heechul came back, and then moved out. Members were leaving for the army, slowly. I longed to be put around your body, so maybe I could catch the tears that fall from your eyes. But you no longer came to Hyukjae’s room. You and Hyukjae lived in different dorms. I was relieved when Hyukjae put me into his luggage. I thought, perhaps, that I had grown too old, too worn out. Maybe Hyukjae still retained some affection for this ragged old blanket. I still missed you, though, Donghae.

    I understood, though, that you had moved on. Years had passed and I saw you only once a few months. Every time you had entered Hyukjae’s room, it was to mention a schedule, or steal clothes. Steal me, Donghae, steal me. I hoped relentlessly. But why would you? You did not feel any attachment towards me. Your body had long overgrown me, and I could no longer provide enough warmth. I also wondered about and feared Hyukjae’s reaction if I was suddenly lost one day. Would he look everywhere for me, like how he looked for his favourite orange shoes? Or would he be relieved, that he could so painlessly get rid of me? After all, I’m just a representation of memories and the past, things long forgotten.

    Two days ago, you came into Hyukjae’s room. Kyuhyun wasn’t at home. I assumed he was away to drink away his feelings after Hyukjae left. Yes, Hyukjae left. Your face was strangely calm. I remembered with a twang of pain that you were leaving too. You looked around his empty room. Hyukjae never was the best cleaner. There were things strewn around the room. Old bags, too-small clothes, worn-out shoes. I realised that these were all garbage, and he probably sorted me in that category, already. Finally, you picked me up. It had been years, Donghae. Your hands felt familiar, but my reaction was alien.

    I had thought our reunion would be more heartfelt, and joyous. But all I felt was a sense of emptiness and longing. Longing for things long gone, and longing for your touch. You simply put me into your bag and took me back to your dorm. But for what? You were leaving too, in two days. I realised you and I were much alike. Longing, wishing for things that could never be. What could an old blanket with stringy ends and holes do for you? Memory, I supposed. It means different things to all sorts of people.

    Today, you left for your enlistment. You slept with me wrapped around you last night. I had wondered what comfort you found in me. When you got up, you wasted no time in going to freshen up. It was like in the old days Donghae. You remember, don’t you? You would wake up, and rush to brush your teeth and wash your hands. Just to come back to Hyukjae’s room and sleep with him again. Only, you didn’t come back to the room, and Hyukjae was waking up in a military bed. You had your luggage nicely packed outside, as if you couldn’t bear to come back in here. And when the front door swung shut, I knew it’d be a long wait.

    Donghae, I was always there to make you warm, but this cold room I cannot make warmer.