I'm dedicated to finishing this series. I'm sorry I took too long to come back. PS: I did it! I got into law school! Taking a break from Kaisoo (and dying in the process) was worth it!

For some odd yet understandable reason, Kyungsoo has never been the biggest fan of summer. The slow and strong gushes of wind serve as nothing more than nuisances to his long, chocolate bangs. Jittery critters come up from stagnant water and the boiling rays of majestic, golden sun rain down on vulnerable, leathering skin. The worst about summer of all is the fact that days stretch like some sort of elastic pulley, mocking Kyungsoo about how much more time there is available to waste away curling frosty toes in bed and listening to old voicemails at consecutive four-in-the-afternoons. 

At this particular four in the afternoon, he sits on an edge of a smooth solid stone along the shore of a distant beach, dirtied by the number of tourists that have stood up on top of it many times before. Kyungsoo is hunched forward with elbows resting on his bruising knees as he watches the sun slowly meet the horizon. He hears the blue in the afternoon sea dance with the cream of the cold sand and, for once in a very long time, his mind is blank. The singer lets the wind he despised carry his train of thought—and it may have been because of the salt in the air—but this time, as he inhales and exhales, he swears he feels different. 

Being cooped up in a room bound by memories on every inch of occupied space gave no sense of relief for Do Kyungsoo. He had bought new linens and discarded the ones they slept in, tossing away the scent of musk he is still used to waking up to every morning, and new clothes to replace all the ones he remembers Jongin strip away from his own milky skin left to be forgotten on untouched, hardwood floors. 

Material things are a easy to dispose of—the reality is grim that it is not so in the intangibility of certain products of a long term relationship.  

He cannot replace the feeling of Jongin’s warmth which used to rest in between the spaces of his fingers; a silent yet proud sermon of love and protection whenever they would walk through a busy, voyeuristic crowd. He cannot replace the soft of Jongin’s lips and how it felt around every mile of skin; his fingertips always creating feathery of pirouettes along claimed waist and plush thighs. He cannot replace the gush of hot, pulsating pleasure he felt spread all over his body as he tenses and then relaxes, his heavy breathing matched with Jongin who would always give him a smile and a kiss goodnight. 

The boy left a mark so deep that Kyungsoo feels his fingerprints along the ridges of his forsaken skin. 
Sullenly, he has not loved himself since Jongin stopped and he knows it will be a while until the imprints fade away again.

It is tranquil and then, like a quick shock of an electrical impulse, it isn’t.  

"Chanyeol, stop hogging all the watermelon!" he hears Baekhyun yell from a parked caravan, a tone that mimics a mother finding out a child had done something displeasing to the eye.

"I was the one who cut it so I get to pick which pieces I want," Chanyeol reverts, eyebrows furrowed and voice genuinely upset, albeit, with a hint of sarcasm that Baekhyun catches at the corner of his eye. 

"Would've helped us if you cut them equally,” the shorter groans in agony, “Honestly, I can’t stand you.” 

"Shut up, lovebirds. I'm driving after the next stop and if I hear your bickering I'm leaving without you,” Jongd