With a newfound determination Baekhyun arranged his features into an expressionless mask and lifted his eyes to look away from the face he loved. Yixing heard a soft shatter from somewhere inside his chest and he shifted his feet to walk himself out of the bathroom.

He didn’t make it far before he had to lean against the wall because he couldn’t see clearly through the moisture that collected in his eyes and something was squeezing his heart and it was making it hard to breathe. He stumbled into the room, flicked the lock and cried soundlessly into his pillow.

He had done a good job of distancing himself away from the rest of his churning feelings, but now they were overflowing from every side and he was drowning. For the first time he felt the hopeless pain of loneliness. He had isolated himself away from the rest because he needed space and time, but they rarely approached him to check if he was okay.

He had to meet expectations and face lectures from the teams in Korea and China, and although he never admitted it to anyone, he was exhausted. Now his motivation, his love, his light, had singlehandedly brought his world crashing down into dust and he found himself standing atop the rubble. Alone. He was alone. He had nobody he wanted to let in, to see the crumbled and bruised parts that he’d hidden away so well. Except for Baekhyun. He let out a small helpless laugh. His mind had started to hate him since the night in the hospital, but his heart, his bloody, goddamn heart, killed itself whenever he heard Baekhyun cough, or wheeze, or saw him wince, or clutch at his heart, or dry heave at the bathroom sink as he did in some mornings. And the only thing that was stopping him from throwing himself onto his knees in front of Baekhyun and beg for him to come back, was the appearance of Chanyeol’s lanky body, as he swept Baekhyun up with his long arms and marched into the bedroom with his long legs to set him on the bed.

Yixing’s eyes followed their every move and on some days he hurt so much he wanted to die.