Sometimes, Jiyong would catch Seungri staring off into space, eyes unfocused. In those moments, he would call to the younger boy, loud and full of enthusiasm. His voice, so clear, would cause the maknae to flinch, breaking out of his trance.

Then Seungri would smile, so wide his teeth showed, bracing for the impact that was their leader hugging him. The younger boy would laugh, would struggle, playing like he didn’t enjoy the contact, even as his hands automatically found Jiyong's, fingertips seeking warm skin.

But Jiyong noticed, even though Seungri was smiling, the spark never reached his eyes.

He held the maknae close, so the others wouldn't hear him ask, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the younger boy answered, looking away, as if he were embarrassed.

And Jiyong didn't know if he wanted to believe those words or not.

-

“I think you should see someone,” the leader said one day, when they were alone in their dorm, just lying on the couch, watching a program on TV. He had a hand buried in the other boy’s hair, gently the soft strands, "A professional."

“Why?” the maknae asked, voice tired, distant. He didn’t move, simply pushed his back further into Jiyong’s chest, leaning as close as he could to the leader, as if seeking warmth.

“Cause this isn’t normal. You shouldn’t have to pretend all the time.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Liar.”

-

The first time they kissed, it was winter.

It had been snowing.

They had been playing, throwing snowballs at one another as they ran through an abandoned alleyway, kicking up the soft white fluff, their laughter echoing in the still air. Somehow, they had tumbled to the ground, Jiyong practically straddling Seungri. Their faces hurt and they couldn't tell if it was from the cold or laughing so hard.

Without thinking, Jiyong leaned down and pressed his lips to the other boy's. A kiss so gentle, he couldn't tell if they were really touching at all.

To the leader's surprise, Seungri didn't protest, instead pushing himself up, cold hands gripping at the older boy's jacket, pulling him in closer, causing their teeth to click together. The sharp, sudden sting made Jiyong gasp, but their lips never stopped moving against one another.

"Please. More," the maknae's shaky voice pleaded when they pulled apart, his face was flushed and he looked into Jiyong's eyes with such need that the leader couldn't deny him.

-

They don't speak for several days after their time in the snow.

Jiyong doesn't know what to say to Seungri.

Every time the leader caught a glimpse of the deep red purple marks on the maknae's neck, he would look away, embarrassed with how carried away he had gotten. He hated that Seungri could make him lose his will so quickly.

If the younger boy approached him, he would walk away from what he was doing, avoiding even a simple gaze. He wouldn't answer questions and simply shut himself off to every word. The hurt expression Seungri wore when he did that, did not escape Jiyong. Nor did it escape the others who glanced at the leader with curious looks.

"What's with you?" Youngbae asked with a huff, cornering Jiyong in the bathroom during one of their breaks.

"It's nothing," the leader lied. The look in his best friend's eyes told him that he wasn't very good at hiding the fact that something was wrong.

"It's obviously not nothing."

"Mind your business."

"Stop being a jerk to him."

Jiyong hated to admit it, but Youngbae was right.

-

The leader approaches the maknae, his voice soft, unsure of how to express himself. He hated how unsure he felt. So, he forced out the words, practically through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, hyung," Seungri smiled so bright Jiyong wasn't sure how to respond. He felt as if he should have explained to the younger boy why he was apologizing, but forgiveness was already being handed to him, "Don't worry about it."

But then he noticed, just like he always did, just how dull the maknae's gaze was. It was as if there were no life in those eyes at all.

-

Sometimes, Jiyong catches Seungri doing strange things.

The maknae would dig his nails into his palms, creating deep crescent shaped marks. Sometimes, those marks would turn red, bubbling with blood trapped underneath the surface.

"Stop," the older boy hissed, lightly tapping Seungri's hands. His brows furrowed in concern when he realized that, this time, the younger boy had managed to draw blood. He jumped up from his seat, scrambling about the room, brain unable to think of where the first aid kit was, "Jesus, Seungri."

"I didn't even feel it," the maknae breathed, staring at his hands.

-

"I like you a lot," Jiyong said, wrapping his arms around Seungri's shoulder, placing his lips close to the other boy's ear. His heart was pounding in his chest, realizing he was finally confronting what had been in front of him all along, "Like, a lot, a lot."

"Really?" the maknae asked, trying to turn his head to the leader.

In that moment, the older boy leaned close and pressed a kiss to Seungri's lips, quick and chaste, "Really."

And Seungri smiled, eyes closed, cheeks flushed.

-

There were stretches of time when they wouldn't see one another very often, even though they lived in the same dorm. Jiyong was often working and getting more promotional offers than the others.

It was during those times when the leader would worry the most, because when he would finally find the time to see Seungri, the younger boy always seemed smaller, not only in spirit, but physically as well. It was as if the maknae had been starved since the moment Jiyong left.

"Welcome home," Seungri would greet him with enthusiasm, smiling so much it was a wonder his cheeks didn't hurt.

And Jiyong would hug the maknae tight, feeling his heart thud in his chest at the way he could feel the younger boy's ribs underneath the material of his sweatshirt.

To anyone else, it would seem that nothing had changed between them in those moments, even with the distance they have had, but Jiyong knew that it would be an uphill climb to get them back to where they were before he left.

-

“Stop!”

Jiyong grabbed Seungri by the wrist, gripping so hard he knew for sure that there would be finger shaped bruises on the younger boy’s skin later. The maknae was shaking, tears falling from his dazed eyes, hands covered in blood, struggling to pull free from the older boys grasp.

“Seungri!”

Jiyong’s heart was racing in his chest, practically caught in his throat. His mind couldn’t wrap itself around the situation he had walked in on. All he could process was the blood and Seungri’s red stained hands. He had rushed forward, trying to minimize the damage that he saw. He was trying to protect the maknae, but he felt so useless, helpless.

He didn't know how he could protect Seungri from himself.

The leader stared down at the tiled floor, where the razor blade shone in the light, gleaming and dangerous. The edge was rusting, showing wear, a sign it had been used more than once. His eyes trailed up to Seungri’s inner thigh, where several gashes were freely bleeding. The sight made him nauseous when he realized that the new cuts were spread over old, healed ones, intersecting with pale, raised scars.

“Let go,” Seungri’s voice was a trembling whisper.

And Jiyong pulled the maknae into a tight embrace, fiercely squeezing the other boy’s thin frame, afraid that if he didn’t hold on, Seungri would fall apart in his hands.

“I just wanted to feel something,” tears soaked into the leader’s shirt, “Anything.”

-

Depression.

It was a word no one would ever associate with Seungri. And Jiyong promised the maknae that no one would ever know.

No one would be clued into the therapy sessions.

No one would ever know that Seungri, their joker, their energizer, was taking pills to push away the darkness that invaded his mind at every turn.

He promised because it was better than to answer the questions, to get curious looks from everyone familiar around them.

He promised because he knew Seungri didn’t deserve to be bombarded every time he didn't seem himself.

He promised because Seungri pleaded with him after finally agreeing to see a professional for his problems. And he had never been one to say no to his maknae.

-

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Jiyong pressed a kiss to Seungri’s forehead, holding the younger boy close. His hand automatically found the maknae’s waist, an action so often taken that it was now muscle memory, and he clung to the fabric of Seungri’s shirt, holding on as tight as he could.

“Don’t leave me,” the leader breathed, lips moving against the flushed skin of the maknae’s cheek. The words made his chest feel tight, expressing his concerns softly, but openly, “Promise you won't.”

“Promise,” Seungri replied, placing his hand on Jiyong’s chest, palm pressed close and firm, feeling the heartbeat there, rhythmic and steady, “Promise.”

-

Jiyong was relieved that something was being done, that he could catch glimpses of the familiar, playful maknae they were all so used to. He knew he should be happy that Seungri was being treated for something that had been affecting the maknae for longer than any of them could know.

But he hated how lethargic the pills made Seungri.

He would catch the younger boy dozing off in the strangest of places, sometimes in the oddest of positions. The others thought it was funny, not knowing it was a side effect of his medication. They would snap pictures so they could tease the maknae later, which Jiyong knew would just be ammunition in Seungri's mind.

"Leave him alone," the leader said, trying to push away the others as they got too close with their cameras.

“It’s cute,” Seunghyun said, smiling as Youngbae snapped several pictures in a row before backing away.

“Let him sleep,” Jiyong rolled his eyes, waving the others away as much as he could, annoyed by how they couldn't see just how upsetting their antics could be.

-

“Seungri.”

“Hm?” the maknae looked up, rubbing his tired eyes. He looked up at Jiyong for several long moments, waiting, “Yes, hyung?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

And Jiyong felt his heart melt at the sight of Seungri’s lopsided smile.

-

"I hate this," Seungri said, turning the bottle of pills in his hands, the contents inside rattling.

"What do you mean?" Jiyong asked, looking up from his laptop.

The maknae stared at his prescription for a long moment. Then he was flinging the plastic container at the wall. The leader flinched, ducking to avoid being hit, though the bottle hit the wall several inches away from his head, where the cap popped off, causing the pale blue pills to spill onto the floor.

They both stared at the mess, neither moving, almost as if too shocked by the younger boy's actions to do anything.

"I'm just so tired," Seungri finally said, voice quiet as he rose from his seat to pick up the pills.

-

A scream jolted him awake causing him to fall off the bed and smack the back of his head against the floor. Before he could get up, he already heard footsteps approaching, someone else was awake and heading toward the source of the sound.

The light came on, blinding him. Blinking several times, Jiyong sat up and looked toward the door. Daesung stood in the entryway, looking around the room wide eyed, a worried expression on his face.

"Did you hear that?" the younger boy asked, sounding breathless. He must have been startled out of his mind, the boy was so easy to scare.

"Seungri!" Youngbae's voice was clear this time, shrill and panicked.

The two ran from the room, toward where the only source of light was shining - the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, Jiyong felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to cross the threshold at the scene unfolding before him.

Youngbae was yanking a fully soaked Seungri from the tub, water splashing everywhere. The maknae wasn't moving, even when his body hit the cold tiles with a thud he remained motionless. The maknae's dark hair was plastered to his face, eyes closed.

"Seungri," Daesung stepped closer, kneeling on the water soaked floor, tugging at the maknae's hand, hoping for a response. His voice rose in a panic, "Seunghyun-ah!"

"He's not breathing," Youngbae breathed, voice hitched, immediately starting CPR even as he spoke.

Jiyong was frozen in place, unable to process what was happening. He could only stare at Seungri's peaceful face, wondering if it was the lighting or if the younger boy's lips had already started to turn blue.

"Jiyong!"

"Call an ambulance!"

He could only stare ahead, rapidly blinking back tears, trying to tell himself that the reality of what was happening wasn't real. But there it was, playing out right before his eyes, Seungri laying lifeless on the bathroom floor.

Seungri was dead. He didn't need confirmation. He already knew.

And Jiyong had never felt so empty before in his entire life at the realization.

He felt as if all color had evaporated from his world in that moment and nothing would ever make it right again.

-

Note: Been in a mood. Sorry for the sadness my lovely readers.