I'M SORRY FOR BEIN THIS EXTRA  I LOVE THEM SO MUCH MY HEARET IS BREAKING SKJFKHA

What people don’t realise is that most days in a year truly are, for a lack of better term, unremarkable. The sun rises and then sets again with no lasting memories made in between; twenty four hours of an overwritten hippocampus before the head rests on a soft pillow to do it all over again the very next morn. Do Kyungsoo vouches for the statement.

One irrelevant Thursday, at a time the sun was barely below the horizon and the sky a galactic mix of orange and yellow, he was visited by an overly excited Baekhyun with equally exciting news. He remembers nothing but his flash of an unconvincing, fake smile before excusing himself with an unconvincing, fake cough and spent the rest of his day buried under the safety of flower patterned blankets. He closed his eyes and cried to sleep. It was only 6:32 pm.

On the Saturday of the same week, he called in sick early and spent the rest of the day with his back on the headboard of his bed for two, his legs tucked in himself and a chin that rested on the space between his knees. The weather was overcast, the cold wind through window cracks a premature welcome for an uncontested pathetic fallacy. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but remind himself of the last time he had called in ill on a Saturday morning. There was a sculpted boy’s arms wrapped tightly around his small waist, a few pouty ‘don’t go yet’s forcing him to dial up his employer on a shady eleven a.m. That was the first time Jongin had slept over; the night before, a passionate mess of discarded clothes on cold, wooden floors but warm backs on chests as Jongin kissed his entire body. He closed his eyes and cried to sleep. It was only three in the afternoon.

The Wednesday after, a letter rested in between chilly fingers addressing a promotion offered to him over the weekend he had yet to accept. A smile had crept up but fell back down again when he realised he no longer had anyone he wanted to share the news with. Jongin…

“I… I got in!”

“You’re kidding!”

Jongin had cheered, picking his boyfriend off the floor by the hip in a warm, celebratory hug. He twirled the elder around, an orchestra of laughter made only by the two, until he halted and tightened his grip. The blond kept Kyungsoo’s smaller frame pressed firmly against his own and refrained from settling him to the floor, “I’m proud of you, really. I always knew you could do it.”

“Maybe that was all I needed,” Kyungsoo cooed, lifting up a free hand as he brushed Jongin’s long bangs away from bright, crescent eyes. He leaned forward and gave his boyfriend a graze of a kiss on his forehead.

“Don’t be so cheesy,” Jongin breathed, gently letting Kyungsoo slip to hardwood floors.

“Please,” Kyungsoo scoffed, “You’ll miss it when I move into that college, mark my words.”

Kyungsoo found himself back on his bed when the cold linens break his train of thought. He closed his eyes and cried to sleep. It was barely ten in the morning.

A few Thursdays after the first, someone has had enough.

“I’ve ing had enough!” Baekhyun storms in Kyungsoo’s small apartment bedroom and yanks the frail curtains open, a blaring ray of sunlight drifting onto the smaller’s forsaken skin.

Kyungsoo feels fragile. Fragile and detached. There is no motivation to raise his head in the morning but it is so difficult to find slumber at night. The brunette squints his eyes from underneath the thin layer of bedding and stirs, unresponsive.

“I’ve ing had enough,” Baekhyun repeats, softer this time, and sits on the edge of Kyungsoo’s bed. He is still for a few minutes, face rugged and brows creased but it softens when he hears sharp exhales of sobs from underneath the covers.

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer my texts, you don’t answer the door when I knock—“

"I don't want to go to your party, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo weakly slurs until he raises his head above his blanket, "I'm sorry, you're my best friend and all but I just... don't feel like it... I'm going to see him. You're his family friend you can't uninvite him and I'm not going until you uninvite him so no.”

Baekhyun’s almost doesn’t hear him with how loud his heart breaks at the sight of Kyungsoo. Hair usually silky is disheveled in a bedridden mess, brown eyes yell angry red, a trail of dried tears sit rough on Kyungsoo's otherwise soft skin.

It is when they meet each other’s hazel browns when Kyungsoo shakes and whimpers a cry, an action the singer had found himself doing more and more often as time scurries ahead. Baekhyun’s face falls and drops any and all act of stubbornness he had prepared to convince Kyungsoo to come to his party. The subject seems so small in comparison to everything—like a molehill beside a monstrous mountain he unconsciously had left Kyungsoo to deal with himself. Mentally smiting himself, he whispers a few concerned ‘It’s okay’s as he slides underneath the blankets in reach to calm his best friend down.

There is something peculiar about going under occupied blankets and feeling nothing but cold.

The rest of the day is a soothing hand against a damp back of a crying boy whose head leans against a skinny collarbone. Baekhyun doesn’t know what to say—Kyungsoo had given Jongin everything and there is a pull on a heartstring that tells him Kyungsoo is questioning himself if it was ever enough.

He doesn’t leave until the morning after the boy closes his eyes and cries to sleep. He stays in bed until eight in the morning the v