Life is for the living;

And death is for the dead.

Let life be the music-

And death a note unsaid.

Minho drops us off at the apartment without further incident. Throughout the entire journey, Minho and Taemin kept exchanging glances, when they thought the other wasn’t looking. I thought it was sickeningly cute.

When we get off at the apartment, Taemin just went up without even a glance back at the car. I want to drag him back here on his and make him thank Minho.

“Thank you,” I say instead to Minho, who smiles and nods in return.

“Will you two be okay?” He asks. “If you need any help, call me.”

“Minho,” I say, wondering what I am about to say next. “Do you like Taemin?”

Minho’s big eyes widen, and his cheeks flush.

“I-I-”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” He says firmly, and that is enough for me.  “I like him.”

“Okay. I’ll see you, Minho.” I say, and bow lightly. He smiles at me, and drives off. I wait till I cannot see his car anymore.

*

“Tae?” I whisper into the house, because I cannot find him anywhere. “Where are you?”

No response.

“Taemin!”

“In here,” His voice sounds from my room, and I realize that my heart has been pounding in my chest only after it stops.

I walk into my dark room with light steps, because I don’t want to startle him.

“Taeminnie…”

“What happened?” He asks me. He is sitting in the corner, knees to his chest and eyes filled with tears. His face is lit by only a ray of sunshine coming through the curtained windows, and it makes him look ethereal, like a fairy. “I think I deserve to know, don’t you?” the blood-red stain of his voice is painful to see.

I sit down next to him, and he leans on my shoulder.

“I went to the studio yesterday.” I say. Taemin gasps in surprise. “You went to work on a Saturday?” he asks, voice high and disbelieving.

“Yeah,” I scoff. “I surprised myself. Anyway, Sooyoung made me listen to this song-”

“Did she make you listen to heavy metal again? I’m going to kill that -”

“No! It wasn’t metal. It was a ballad…” my face heats up in shame.

“A ballad? But a ballad isn’t much of a stimulus.”

“I know, Taemin. I know.”

He looks into my eyes, and the stark red softens into a easy crimson.

“Is it getting worse?” he asks me carefully.

“I don’t know.”

“You should go home, hyung.”

“No.” My voice is cold, hard. I imagine it would be the colour of stormy sky, but I can’t see my own voice.

“Okay, fine. No going home. But what if it is getting worse? What if by tomorrow you’re going to become like-”

“Don’t.” my voice shakes. “Don’t say it.”

My heart squeezes into the smallest cell