Avant-propos: My apologies for the delay! I was busy moving in my new room on campus. This part is an explanation of Kyungsoo and Jongin's relationship, how they met, and how they grew up together. The second one will be completely different. I haven't proofread anything yet, I was too eager to post it, so please tell me if you spot any typos or grammar mistakes.

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The first time Kyungsoo went to the yellow-painted family house in Pohang, he was seven years old. The house belonged to his grandmother who had chosen to lend it to her children as she was now living in a retirement home in the countryside. The young boy had met the kind neighbours who lived in the identical blue-painted house attached to their own. They were a nice couple who apparently had a son one year younger than him, but Kyungsoo had never been able to catch a glimpse of the boy in the nine days he had been here. On a morning he was tired of going to the beach every single day, his parents had allowed him to stay at home on his own if he promised to behave and call them promptly if there was a problem. Thus, the small brunette was staying inside, but he realised there was nothing fun to do without his school friends. With the sprout of an idea in mind, Kyungsoo ran out, barely remembering to lock the door of the house, and rung the bell of his neighbours. He had found the perfect way to escape his boredom. The door opened on a rather young woman with delicate features, warm eyes, and petite hands.

“Hi, is your son here? I want to be friends!” the small boy exclaimed, waving the action figures that were in his tiny hands and smiling sweetly.

The mother, who was alone since her husband was at work, looked down at him sadly. “Sweety, I'm afraid it's impossible. Jongin can't play with you... or anyone.”

“Why?” he was frowning confusedly (and quite adorably, the woman thought).

“It's complicated,” she explained slowly to make sure the child understood. “He cannot make friends and play with them as easily as you do.”

When the wide-eyed kid's lips had started wobbling, a sign that he was close from bursting into tears, the woman panicked and agreed to let Kyungsoo into the house. She led him to a door with a cross pined on it, then crouched down in front of the child, putting her hands protected by sanitary gloves on his shoulders.

“Jongin is ill, he can't touch anybody or any object which wasn't cleaned beforehand, or else he might catch bacteria and get gravely sick, do you understand?” she warned softly.

Kyungsoo nodded although he didn't know what a backtiriya was. “Yes, ma'am, but can we still play?”

Jongin's mother smiled softly. “Well, you can try, but be patient with him,” she knocked on the door to announce the guest. “Jongin, darling? Do you remember when I told you there was a couple and a little boy staying next-door for a few weeks? Well, he's here and he wants to meet you. Can he come in?”

There were a few seconds of silence before they heard a faint and hesitant “... Yes.”

Kyungsoo opened the door, beaming. “Hi!” he almost yelled from the excitement ofthe prospect of making a new friend.

“Hi...” the other replied shyly, looking down at his laps.

At first, Kyungsoo couldn't see anything wrong with the boy sitting in his wooden chair with a book on his laps, except his frail and fragile appearance, as well as his sickly white skin contrasting with his chocolate brown eyes (the same as his mother, he remarked) and his dark hair, but then he noticed that Jongin seemed kind of blurry.

“I think my eyes are broken, you're all wavy!” he giggled, amused.

“No,” Jongin said in a hoarse voice, as if he weren't accustomed to talking. “It's the p-protection...” he clarified, quite ashamed.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo gaped, finally noticing the thin transparent partition wall separating the unusually wide room at approximately one quarter of it. “Why are you in a cage?” he wondered aloud candidly.

His mother had left them alone. Kyungsoo moved to sit in a cushioned seat leaning against the wall, and stared at the skinny boy through the transparency.

“It's n-not a c-cage,” he cleared his throat to get rid of the roughness of his voice. “That's... my room. W-What's your n-n-name?” Jongin stuttered, nervous under the intense gaze.

“I'm Kyungsoo. And you're Jongin! Your mommy told me,” he added, when he saw the flabbergasted look the other boy was giving him.

“N-Nice to meet you...” Jongin replied politely, bowing his head. “What are... Why are you here?”

“I came to play!” Kyungsoo stated as if it was the reason was ridiculously obvious. “Although I was planning on lending you one of my action figures, but... I guess I can't,” he observed, frowning disappointingly.

“I-It's alright! I have a-action f-figures too!” Jongin quickly told him, digging into a purple wooden box in search of his superhero figurines. He was afraid to see his new friend leave if he couldn't please him.

“Oh, well then, that's perfect!” Kyungsoo grinned, shifting to sit closer to the transparent tarpaulin. “I am Batman, and you can be The Flash!”

That was the first time of many that they played together. Since that day, Kyungsoo had taken the habit of visiting Jongin almost everyday, even going as far as to beg his parents when they were reluctant to let him go on the evenings they came back late from an exhausting day. He was always eager to tell Jongin about his adventure of the day in the outside world (“[...] and the crab caught my hand!” Kyungsoo was recounting once, giggling, and Jongin said, proceeding to frantically flip the pages of an illustrated book about ocean life: “Crab? Oh wait, I think I have a picture in one of my books!”) although the first conversations with the sick boy were rather awkward since he wasn't used to social interactions, but at least he had stopped stuttering. Kyungsoo was a really curious child, and in the beginning he couldn't help but bombard Jongin with questions about his condition. Had he really never gone out? Did that mean he could never ever go to school? Then where had he learnt how to read such big and complicated books? Had he ever hugged his parents? How come he could have toys since his mother had told him he couldn't touch objects? Most of his answers overwhelmed the sensitive Kyungsoo with sorrow. His heart ached for his friend who would most-likely never get to experience some of the simplest things Kyungsoo took as granted, such as getting a kiss from his mommy on a bleeding scratch, or listening to a story on his daddy's warm laps. Over time he had learnt not to pry, although the other boy had assured him that it was fine, that he didn't mind sharing his experience with him. Friends talked about everything, didn't they? In return, Jongin was allowed to ask Kyungsoo about every little thing he was curious about, such as the feeling of sun rays on his skin, the view of the sunset, the smell of morning dew, or the experience of sleeping over at a friend's house. Kyungsoo was happy to indulge, doing his very best to describe with as much accuracy as possible.

There were also days Jongin was feeling too weak to play, so they just talked about carefree topics, such as the books Jongin had read, or Kyungsoo's school and classmates. On the worst days, Kyungsoo couldn't come see him at all, his friend was bed-ridden because he had gotten infected by some tiny mean virus invisible to the eye. Once, he had even caught a disease because of the oldest's stubbornness and carelessness. The healthy ten year-old had discovered a passion for drawing all sorts of things, people, landscapes, abstract shapes, and he was excited to show his artworks to his close friend. The other had mentioned how he wished he could have one of his masterpieces hanging in his room, and Kyungsoo had taken it to heart to paint a realistic (in his opinion) representation of his bedroom back home, in hope that Jongin would learn a little bit more about himself, since he would never be able to come over. He had hidden it inside his backpack, and slipped it through the tube (a kind of airlock) that he had seen his mother use to give Jongin some useful sterilised items. He had thought that the smile on his friend's face was worth disobeying the golden rule, but the next day, when he knocked on the door and was greeted by a panic-stricken Mrs. Kim who informed him in a trembling voice that Jongin had a burning hot fever that could cost him his life, he had been submerged by remorse. Oh, how he had regretted it. Of course, he had been scolded afterwards by Jongin's parents and his own once they discovered what he had done, and he had been so relieved to know Jongin had recovered that he couldn't stop crying for several minutes. It wasn't so much the fact that he had been yelled at, but the realisation that his friend could have died in a flash because of a stupid and childish decision. He had been so afraid to lose his friend that he swore to himself never to repeat such a terrible mistake.

As he grew up, Kyungsoo begun to better understand Jongin's condition, thanks to the technical vocabulary he had learnt: Jongin had to be put in quarantine, because his immune system was defective, that is to say too weak to protect him from microscopic bacteria (not “backtiriya”) which proliferated in the air. Kyungsoo didn't particularly like biology at school, but he was willing to read magazines on SCIDS, the correct technical term (Severe Combined Immune Deficiency Syndrome), borrowed from the school's library. He took the habit of asking his mom and dad about the complicated words, they didn't always know, but he knew they did their best to explain in simpler terms. One slightly less hot summer, as thirteen year-old Kyungsoo was coming to the Kim's house as usual, Jongin's mother presented him with an ugly-looking greenish suit, a mix between a frogman suit and a spacesuit.

“What is... that?” he asked, confused and taken aback by the unfamiliar clothing.

She smiled knowingly. “A sterilised suit.”

“What's it for?” he enquired further, missing the important word.

“It's so you can go into the bubble.” That's what she called the enclosed environment her son was living in. “Shhh, Jongin doesn't know,” she whispered with finger on her lips and a wink, a mischievous glint in her pretty eyes.

Kyungsoo's eyes widened comically upon realising that for the first time in six years, he would be able to see the boy who had become his best friend from up close, maybe even hug him! He jumped in glee and embraced her tight, but not without asking why she hadn't suggested this idea sooner (“you were too small to fit in the suit”, she replied, and Kyungsoo accepted her reason begrudgingly). The boy put the suit on with a bit of difficulty, giggling as Jongin's mother helped him secure the head protection.

“I look funny!” he mused. “Jongin won't recognise me.”

Jongin's mother opened the door for him, and let him through the tube that led to the chamber. He entered the enclosed space, and Jongin's face lit up once he caught on what was happening. Kyungsoo felt a bit silly in his hardly-fitting costume, but he couldn't help the giant goofy grin on his face.

“Jongin... Hi,” he greeted dumbly, his voice muffled. The instant was deeply moving.

“Hi,” Jongin replied with an equally stupid smile. He was sitting at his desk, working on some paper for his home-schooled records. He stood up to be face to face with his best friend, and noted that he was taller. “That's you...”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo giggled. “And that's you. Wow. I didn't ever think I would stand next to you like this. I can finally get a proper tour of your private bubble.”

“My parents seldom use the suit, they say it's too dangerous to use it frequently as it brings small harmful particles inside,” Jongin informed him bashfully. “Did you spray the sterilising products on?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Yes, your mom explained everything. Does that mean I can hug you, now?”

“I guess?” Jongin scratched his neck, and shyly snuggled into his friend's welcoming arms.

They stayed like this in silence for a few minutes before Jongin spoke up.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” he piped up in a small voice.

Kyungsoo had trouble replying, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “M-Me too.” He hoped the glass was able to hide the blush on his cheeks. “Let's play? What are you studying?”

He had stayed in the bubble for the entire afternoon, Jongin was enthusiastic, showing Kyungsoo all the belongings he had never been able to brag about, which were mostly books about the wonders of the Earth. They didn't seem that amazing to Kyungsoo, but he was sensitive enough to entertain his friend, because he knew that for him, smalls things such as catching butterflies must seem out-of-reach. Something had changed in their relationship after that. Kyungsoo found himself staring more and more at his friend, trying to take in every detail of his face. The following day, Jongin was less talkative than usual (Kyungsoo had learnt afterwards that he had gotten a bit sick after his visit, but didn't want his friend to be reminded of the unfortunate event).

At respectively thirteen and fourteen, Jongin and Kyungsoo had both gotten cellphones from their parents, which allowed them to speak to each other the rest of the year, and not only a few weeks every summer. They texted all day long, until Kyungsoo's phone was confiscated from a teacher and his parents had to intervene to restrict their talking time.

from: Kyungsoo-hyung

can't talk to u on school days anymore

:c

from: Jonggie-poo

It's alright hyung, I will wait for you!

from: Kyungsoo-hyung

u know u can use smiley faces right

;-) :-) :-P :-D

from: Jonggie-poo

I know, but I prefer simple texts.

from: Kyungsoo-hyung

sometimes I feel like u live in a cave, not a sterile tent >_>

At fifteen, Kyungsoo had come back excited after an afternoon at the beach, eager to speak to his friend.

“Jongin! Gosh, I can't wait to tell you something,” he was practically bouncing in the room.

“What makes you so cheery?” the other teen enquired curiously with a small smirk.

“I met someone today, at the beach,” he whispered excitedly.

“Someone?” Jongin repeated with a confused frown.

“Yeah,” there was a faint pink on Kyungsoo's cheeks. “A girl named Sunhye.”

“What about her?” Jongin would never admit it, but he was stricken with dread.

“Oh, she is so pretty, and smart, and lovely, and charming, and, and... She likes me!” Kyungsoo giggled disbelievingly.

“She does?” Jongin replied, not knowing what else to say.

“She said so when she came up to me while I was swimming,” he had a dreamy look in his eyes. “She said she'd seen me here a few times but never had to courage to accost me before. And guess what? She lives in Goyang, too!”

“So... are you... in love with her?” Jongin knew what being “in love” meant. It was described many times in the books he read, and he had seen it in the films his mom had given him. He knew that his parents were in love, but he had never seen anyone else who was as well. He stared at Kyungsoo intently to check if he had all the symptoms listed in the books. Rosy cheeks, check. Dreamy eyes, check. Nervousness in his tone, check. Clammy hands, rambling, awkward shifting, and unsure smile, all check. There was no doubt that Kyungsoo was in love, and Jongin wasn't sure how it made him feel to know that.

“I think so? I mean... I think she's pretty. And smart. And witty. I want to kiss her,” he admitted the last part in a hushed tone because he was embarrassed. He couldn't even look at Jongin, or else he would have noticed the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“That would be your first kiss, right hyung?” he asked gloomily.

“Yeah”, the oldest admitted shyly. “Do you think I should... go for it?” he inquired, always seeking for advice from his friend, since he had read so many romance novels.

“Sure!” Jongin replied without missing a bit, willing the odd sensation in his stomach away.

“You think so?” Kyungsoo had been hoping he would say yes, and was now grinning madly. “I'll come see you tonight, and tell you everything about it, alright?”

Jongin hummed, neither feeling like refusing nor accepting. The excited teen had left promptly after that to meet the girl who was making him so giddy at the moment. Jongin had waited the entire evening in anticipation, feeling lonelier than ever as he thought about his friend who was probably enjoying a night date with that Sunhye girl. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard the familiar creaking of his door. He straightened on his bed and tamed down his wild hair as Kyungsoo took a seat in the old armchair.

“Hi again”, he greeted in a hushed voice. “My parents think I've been sleeping soundly for a few hours. If only they knew...” He smiled mischievously.

“You sneaked out to go see that girl?” Jongin asked, rather disbelievingly. His friend rarely lied to his parents, and to think that he would do it for a girl he had just met triggered an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah. She brought me on the beach at nightfall, it was thrilling! There were only a few daring people, since the sea was so agitated,” Kyungsoo recounted the events of his evening, and Jongin listened to him carefully, although the uneasiness in his stomach kept growing worse and worse.

“And so... at one point, we kissed. I don't remember why. We were just talking and... it happened. Who leaned in first? Maybe we both did,” he rambled.

Jongin swallowed with difficulty, his throat was dry for no explicable reason. “How... How was it?”

“It was...” Kyungsoo paused, looking for the right word. “It... wasn't bad. But it wasn't particularly nice either.”

Jongin took a deep breath. He felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“I didn't feel the sparks, you know?” he explained, rubbing at his mouth with his fingers. “I thought there would be more. She seemed like she had felt them, though. The sparks. But I didn't. Which made me wonder if...” He cut himself, and peered at Jongin hesitantly.

“Yes?” his friend tilted his head, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Well, I... thought that maybe, I...” he was blushing madly and averting his eyes. “That maybe I don't... swing that way.”

“Swing? What way” Jongin questioned with a confused frown. “I don't understand.”

Kyungsoo groaned, he had purposefully chosen to phrase it that way as not to pronounce the blunt word. “I never thought of the possibility before that I could be g-, that I could... like boys.”

The room was silent. Outside, an owl hooted softly. The two boys were staring at each other in the moonlight, one with utter shock, the other with apprehension.

“Please, say something...” Kyungsoo begged in a small voice. He knew Jongin's parents were Christians and that Jongin was too, but he didn't know about the family's thoughts on homouality.

“You like... boys? Like, like? Like as you would like a girl?” he asked for confirmation.

“Yes... At least, I think so. I realised that I've never been attracted to a girl, except for singers or actresses,” he cleared his throats because of the many hours he spent talking about Seohyun from Girl's Generation. “Whereas I've had many crushes on boys, whether athletes, singers, or... classmates.”

“Oh,” Jongin simply said. He had a look Kyungsoo couldn't decipher, and that scared him. He didn't want to lose his friend.

“Please, Jongin, don't hate me...” he put his trembling hand on the plastic separating them.

“Kyungsoo, I would never!” He asserted firmly. “I just... I didn't know that was possible. In the books... they don't mention it.”

“Well, it is...” he confirmed, toying with his fingers to keep himself busy.

“I don't mind,” came the answer to his previous question.

Kyungsoo raised his head with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Really? You still want to hang out with me?”

“Of course. And anyway, you couldn't do anything to me even if you wanted to,” he joked, gesturing to the sealed transparent wall.

“Silly,” Kyungsoo chuckled, relieved. “I'm glad you're my best friend.”

The blinding smile Jongin gave him that time is still engraved in Kyungsoo's memory to this day.

When Kyungsoo came back on the summer of his sixteenth birthday, he found that Jongin had grown even taller, while he hadn't grown an inch.

“Gosh, will you stop growing so fast? You're only fifteen, at this rate I'll have to stand on a stool to talk to you before you reach the age of eighteen,” he scolded him, pouting in jealousy.

Jongin laughed, feeling the urge to pat his hyung on the head.

“Don't worry, Kyungsoo-hyung, you know what they say: 'tiny things are cute',” he winked playfully.

“I'm not tiny, ,” he glared.

“Woah, hyung, since when do you use such words to speak to me?” He feigned to look shocked and hurt.

“I guess I got that habit from high school,” the oldest shrugged. “You look well Jongin, I'm glad.”

“You do, too,” Jongin smiled.

That year had been a decisive one for the both of them. Jongin had finally come to term with his feelings, and accepted that all along, the curious reactions of his body whenever Kyungsoo was near him, or texting him, were provoked because he was in love with said boy. The night Kyungsoo had admitted his homouality had been eye-opening to Jongin. Whereas he had always lived thinking that his thoughts about the boy were only an anomaly, he had suddenly discovered that the word love could correspond to describe them. It was his love for the other boy that made his heart beat wildly in his chest since he was twelve, love that made it hurt agonisingly whenever Kyungsoo had to leave to Goyang at the end of summer, love that made him loathe the fact that he was so weak, that he couldn't get out of the sterilised tent to show his friend how much he cared for him, love that made him mope for several weeks straight when his absence became unbearable, love that made him long to be at the other boy's side. It seemed like love was causing him more troubles than anything else, but the moment Kyungsoo entered the room, or just as merely smiled at him, the butterflies in his stomach made it all worth it.

Kyungsoo, on the other hand, had taken advantage of his first year at high school to experiment with his new-found discovery (understand, his preference for the masculine charm). He had started dating a boy (whose name Jongin had conveniently chosen to forget) at the beginning of the school year, a good-looking guy who cared more about his hair than his boyfriend, which his why Kyungsoo dumped him after a month. Then there had been another one, but he hadn't lasted long either. “He followed me everywhere,” Kyungsoo had texted him. And when he wrote “everywhere”, he meant everywhere. After the consecutive failures, he stopped dating altogether, but he had recently started talking with another boy on the phone before summer started.

“He's different,” he assured Jongin with a dreamy smile on his heart-shaped lips.

The unhealthy boy could do nothing but listen, even if he could feel his chest tighten at Kyungsoo's words. He knew that he and his previous boyfriends had kissed, and he knew that Kyungsoo had enjoyed it much more than the one time he had kissed that girl at the beach, because each time he told Jongin over the phone how “amazing” kissing another boy felt. Of course, Jongin would never experience that, therefore he could do nothing but trust his words. He didn't have to pretend being happy for his best friend, but deep down he couldn't help the jealousy that overwhelmed him whenever he imagined Kyungsoo kissing a boy who wasn't him. Who gave them the right to claim those beautiful lips? They didn't know Kyungsoo as well as he did. Jongin knew everything there was to know about Kyungsoo, only he deserved his kisses, but he would never be able to get them. First of all, because he was a weakling, and secondly, because Kyungsoo didn't like him that way. But Jongin couldn't blame him. Indeed, what point would there be in liking someone who you couldn't even hug, kiss, or hold hands with? Still, he had to let him know. However, for now, all he could do was listen to his best friend and endure the sight of Kyungsoo's eyes lighting up as he spoke about his potential future boyfriend? He also prayed for the pain of his heart to go away soon, with no avail. Next year, he promised himself, next year I'll tell him.

As expected, Kyungsoo and the texting boy had gotten together shortly after the start of their second year of high school, but surprisingly they had hit it off so well that they had been together ever since. Jongin was updated with every information about the progress of their relationship, Kyungsoo loved calling him to tell him about their date or the latest gift he had received from his boyfriend. Well, except one thing. Three months or so before the end of the school year, Kyungsoo had sent him an enigmatic text message saying that he had to tell him something, but that he couldn't say it over the phone, and that he would have to wait for him to come to his family house in Pohang. Jongin had replied that he would be waiting. He had spent the last few weeks before summer break torn between curiosity and worry, sometimes barely refraining from calling his friend and urge him to just “spill it already!”. The suspense was excruciating (which explained why Jongin preferred romance novels over mystery ones). Finally, the day came when Kyungsoo knocked on Jongin's door before entering. Their reunions always took place the same way, they would greet each other with a simple “hi”, then grin like idiots for a few seconds, and finally indulge in a heated conversation about every little thing they had missed to share over the phone. This day was no exception to the rule. Jongin used the time his friend took to sit in his usual spot and make himself comfortable, to study the face he hadn't seen in person for ten months. To Kyungsoo's disappointment, he yet again remained at the same height, while Jongin had grown several centimetres taller. However, what struck Jongin despite his friend's lack of height growth, was the change in his look and stance. He looked more adult-like, more... mature. Jongin suddenly felt smaller, although he knew himself to be the tallest of the two.

“You changed, hyung,” he remarked aloud.

“You too, Jonginnie. Still growing, I see... Brat,” Kyungsoo tsked.

Jongin stuck his tongue out. “I swear I'm not trying to make you look tiny on purpose!” he exclaimed.

“That's what you say, but who knows...” his friend squinted his eyes suspiciously.

Jongin rolled his eyes at the reply. “So, I'm glad to see you and all, but I'd like to remind you that you've made me wait for months because of something you had to tell me in person. So spill it now, because I'm not waiting any longer. Plus, I also have to tell you something.”

“Alright, alright,” Kyungsoo laughed. “No need to sound so threatening.” He looked around to check if the door was locked, before gesturing for Jongin to come as close to the plastic veil as possible. “Okay, come here.”

Jongin obliged, now standing in front of his hyung who had also gotten up. He waited as Kyungsoo nibbled on his lower lip nervously.

“Chanyeol and I, we've...” he began, blushing. “Gosh, this is harder than what I expected.”

Jongin wondered what could get Kyungsoo in such a flustered state. Was it so hard to say? The auburn-haired teen cleared his throat.

“We slept together,” he whispered very quickly, looking at his feet with a smile.

Jongin's mind went blank. He heard the rest of Kyungsoo's words but he couldn't register what he was saying.

“No, wait, let me correct that. We... made love. Many times. And wow, I didn't know it would feel that pleasurable, I was actually quite scared at first...” he rambled on, only noticing that Jongin had spaced out after a few minutes of talking. “Huh... Jongin? Why are you staring at me like that?”

Jongin was trying his best not to cry, but he knew that he was on the verge of bursting into tears. Living secluded from his peers had turned him into an easily emotional and hypersensitive person. He knew what “sleeping together” meant, he knew what the phrasing implied, he knew there was no way his best friend was talking about the innocent kind of “sleeping”. He couldn't help the feeling of betrayal that was most certainly reflected in his eyes. I should have told him sooner... Maybe he wouldn't have- A lone tear rolled down his cheek, to finally hit the floor. Then another, and another. Soon, his vision was blurring, and he had to crouch down to hide his face in his legs. The sounds of his sobs were filling the room. Never had he cried so hard in his life, never had he felt so overwhelmed with sorrow, it was uncontrollable. Kyungsoo was standing before him with his arms on his sides, powerless. He was at a loss of what to do, so close but so far since he couldn't reach out to his friend because of the damn barrier preventing them to come in contact.

“Jongin, why... why are you crying?” The cheerfulness on his face was long gone, replaced with a look of genuine concern. “Was it something I said? Oh please, don't cry...”

But nothing he could say succeeded in calming the other boy. In fact, his sobs seemed to become louder and louder as minutes passed. Kyungsoo considered calling for Jongin's mom, but she had gone out and he wouldn't have known what to tell her to explain why her son was a crying mess on the floor. He crouched down as he thought he had heard Jongin say something in between his sobs.

“G-Get out...” came the muffled order, cut by a few hiccups.

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, unsure to have gotten it right. Surely, Jongin couldn't be asking him to leave for no reason, could he?

“I-I said... get out,” he repeated more clearly.

There was no doubt this time, but Kyungsoo couldn't will his body to move. He was frozen in place, completely lost. What had he done? Jongin's tears kept flowing and flowing, his right hand was clawing at his heart as if it was hurting too much. He raised his head when he noticed that Kyungsoo hadn't left yet. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and his nose was running but he didn't seem to care at all.

“Didn't you hear me? Get out! GET OUT!” he yelled.

Kyungsoo started, but didn't make a move to get up. “I-I'd like to understand... please...” he begged his friend for an explanation.

“No, you don't. And even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to understand,” Jongin spat with venom in his tone. “You don't know what it's like to sit around for ten months to wait for one person to come, only for them to talk to you about other people, and how happy they are with them. You don't know what it's like hearing about all the things you will never be able to experience, or what it's like to see you fall in love with all the wrong persons.” His heartbreak made him delusional, he didn't know what he was saying any more. “You don't know anything.”

“Then... then tell me!” Kyungsoo cried desperately. “I can listen, and-”

“I DON'T WANT YOUR ING PITY!” he roared at the top of his lungs, successfully shocking Kyungsoo who had never heard the younger boy swear before. “Get the out before I have to come out of this damn prison to throw you out myself.”

The oldest straightened in haste, not wanting to risk his friend purposefully harming himself. The Jongin he knew would never do that, but this Jongin, he didn't recognise him, and therefore couldn't be sure. He reached for the door, e last time towards Jongin who was staring at him with hatred in his eyes, then he ran out of the house, barely managing to avoid spilling some tears on the way. He climbed the stairs and locked himself into his room, before he let himself slide against the door, and hid his face in his laps. His shoulders were heaving as he panted heavily. The exact moment he hit the floor, his tears were let loose, quickly dampening the fabric of his short pants. In the span of a few minutes, their ten-year friendship was shattered as easily as cheap glass. He treasured the hope that Jongin would calm down, that he would come to his senses and explain everything. He called Chanyeol to try and calm down by telling him everything that had happened. He listened as the other's deep voice whispered soothing words in his ear, promising that everything would be alright in a few days. But he was wrong. The next day, when Kyungsoo went to the Kim's house, he was stopped by Jongin's mother at the entrance.

“I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm afraid Jongin is too ill for you to visit him this week,” the crease between her eyebrows had become more obvious over the years, as she worried at all time that Jongin might catch a disease that would be fatal this time.

Kyungsoo turned away dejectedly, but not before making sure she promised to call him once he would have gotten better. Back to the yellow house, he sent a small get well soon text to his best friend (could he still call him that?), hoping that he would at least reply. After two weeks without any news, Kyungsoo knew that Jongin's anger wouldn't pass just like that. He tried calling Mrs. Kim, but every time she told him that Jongin was still sick, or that he was better but currently resting, or even that he had asked her not to let anyone in. He had a feeling that “anyone” applied specifically to Kyungsoo. His daily texts were left unanswered, and when he tried calling him, his calls always reached the voice mail immediately. The days in Pohang seemed longer than usual, and he didn't enjoy going to the beach as much as usual, simply because he couldn't then tell Jongin about every little detail. He had taken a liking to explaining about the outdoors phenomenons and occurrences Jongin had only heard about in books. Heck, he hadn't even seen the sunrise nor sunset properly because having a window in the sterilised tent was prohibited, the only window in the room was in the visitor's part and it wasn't in the right spot. Before he could realise it, it was time for him and his parents to leave to Pohang. He tried going back to the blue house one last time before leaving, hitting the door and calling Jongin's name desperately, but nobody answered his calls, the house stayed quiet. It was with a heavy heart that he climbed into the car, and watched through the back window as the twin houses became smaller and smaller in the distance as his dad drove away.

Little did he know that it would be the last he would see of the two houses before a long time. His last year of high school was busier than ever, he had to study until late for his finals, and work part-time in order to finance his future living expenses as a university student. At least, it was keeping his mind busy so that he didn't have to think about Jongin every minute of the day. But the moment he found himself without anything to do, his thoughts immediately went to the boy in the seaside blue house. His calls were never picked up, it was as if Jongin had gotten rid of his cellphone. His letters seemed like they vanished before reaching their destination, same as for the occasional drawings he sent because he knew Jongin still loved his art style. The worst news came in the mail one morning: his uncle on his dad's side had written to inform them that he had decided to sell the family house after their mother's death (Kyungsoo's grandmother), as nobody made use of it but them during summer. The letter said that it would bring more profit to the family if they were to sell or rent it. His parents wanted to object to the decision, but it had already been agreed with the rest of the family. There was nothing they could do but let the house be sold to new owners. Kyungsoo was devastated: he had been hoping that he would reunite with Jongin, and that everything would go back to normal. He had figured that Jongin had reacted that way because he harboured feelings that went beyond friendship towards him, which he should have seen coming since he was practically the only same-age person Jongin was hanging out with. He was torn because he didn't want to lose him, in a way he wanted to be in love with him too, but he couldn't control his heart's desires that leaned him towards Chanyeol. He stopped sending texts after he joined the Seoul Institute of the arts, and focused on perfecting his style as to be able to one day fulfil his dream of becoming a cartoon artist.