There was no happy moment on awakening when the world felt right, even just for a few seconds.  Jinsu’s body ached all over and her eyes stung, and worst of all was the hollow feeling of emptiness.  She wasn’t sure if the pain in her chest was heartache or actually a physical problem, and she didn’t remember getting back to her room – she didn’t even remember feeling tired – but from her stuffy nose and horribly sticky cheeks, she knew she must have cried herself to sleep.

Wishing herself out of existence, Jinsu rolled over and stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room.  Its lifeless blank white felt almost appropriate for her mood.  Grey probably would have done a little better, but not too much grey, or that would have had too much character, not the empty numbness she was feeling.

It was eventually the dull growl of her stomach and the muted smell of food that injected a little life into her.  Sniffing a little in an attempt to clear her blocked nose, Jinsu propped herself up on her good arm and looked around.

The mystery chef had snuck in yet again, this time with three smaller plates rather than the usual large one with a couple of side plates.  One had slices and chunks of fruit arranged on it, completely symmetrical from shape to size to colour.  The second had mini-pastries – small croissants the length of her middle finger, a small bagel no bigger than the palm of her hand and a couple of madeleines and tiny pain au chocolats – and the third had the cooked English breakfast, again set in smaller sizes, but with not even a baked bean out of place.  Come to that, it looked like even the baked beans had been laid out specifically in an aesthetically pleasing pattern.

Jinsu swallowed.  It was slightly smaller than amounts she’d previously been given (though still much too large to eat by herself), and even though her body was hungry, she was too down in the dumps to want to eat.  On top of that, it felt wrong to waste something that was prepared for her, but it was obvious that a much higher level of effort had gone into this breakfast to make it look absolutely perfect than previous ones, and she didn’t want to ruin it.

She toyed with one of the cocktail sticks for a few moments, unable to muster up the desire to eat, and then put it down again, nudging the fruit plate away.

A small, folded piece of paper lay underneath.  At first she thought it was just a scrap, but then she recognised the mystery chef’s writing.  She frowned.  It was unlike him to hide the paper.  Had he forgotten about it, or not wanted her to see it?  Jinsu held it up to the light.

I’m sorry, was all he had written, but Jinsu felt like she’d been socked in the gut.  She sat bolt upright, staring at the paper and amazed at how she’d been so blind as not to see it before.  And Minseok – Minseok must have known, or he wouldn’t have had those conversations with her—

Fingers trembling, Jinsu got out of bed and fumbled to get her feet into a pair of shoes.  She was still in her clothes from the previous day – meaning that somebody had probably been kind enough to put her to bed – but she did no more than scrape her hand through her hair to smarten her appearance up just a tad from horrendous, the paper unfolding itself as she did so, because she was still reeling from the discovery and needed to verify it as soon as possible.

As she tumbled out of the door, she caught sight of the paper again and realised that he’d written more that had been hidden by the fold.

Many people are quick to judge and slow to correct themselves.  Unfortunately, I’m one of them, and I’ve treated you abysmally.  I’m sorry.

Jinsu paused for a moment, scanning the message for a second time.  From the way it had been hidden. . . from the way it had been folded and hidden, and from what she knew of his stubbornness, an apology was a big blow to his pride.  The longer message was the one he felt he should say, but he’d chickened out and left it to chance, hoping she’d understand with just the shorter one.

Carefully folding the note up again, Jinsu slipped it into her pocket and continued along the balcony corridor.  It wasn’t until she was knocking on Kyungsoo’s door that she realised she had no plan of action.  What was she going to say?  Ask him outright?  Demand an explanation?

The door opened and messy bedhair appeared as Baekhyun blinked at her, wincing in the bright light from the passage.  He scanned her up and down.

“Kyungsoo’s sleeping,” he told her in a low voice before turning away and making to shut the door.  Jinsu hastily stuck her foot in the opening.

“I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

He looked back, and then turned back, his expression wary.  Jinsu’s train of thought died and she panicked.

“I wanted you to come eat breakfast with me,” was the first thing that blurted out of .

Momentary surprise flickered across Baekhyun’s face, and then it went blank.

“Why?”

Jinsu stoo