His side of the bed is empty when she wakes up. He has found solitude on the couch downstairs, permanently sunken in by the amount of times it's been slept on, and it is without a pillow or a blanket that he freezes by himself.

Yoona takes the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and drapes it over him, but Sehun grabs her hand before she has the chance to let go.

They sit together on the couch in silence. She lets him wrap herself in his arms, his chin on her shoulder, skin tickling as he breathes softly against her neck. “Please, let’s just stay like this for a while longer,” he tells her gently. He runs his free hand through her long, chestnut-brown hair, letting his eyes fall shut. Sehun thinks this feels kind of nice. It’s almost perfect, he thinks.  

His fingers trace over her collarbone when she finally speaks up. “Who is Krystal Jung?” And when Sehun looks into her eyes that are usually bright despite the dark empty circles appearing beneath them, he realizes it always reverts back to this.

“What? Yoona,” he says for the umpteenth time, tightening his grip on her hand to reassure her, “she’s nobody, probably just a mere associate in the head office.”

He’s so tired of explaining himself over and over again and it’s driving him crazy that he can’t tell if she does not believe him or does not want to believe him. “Yoona,” he calls out to her. She does not acknowledge him. She never does. It’s only when the warmth of her hand is replaced by the harsh coldness as she rises from the couch, that he realizes she’s leaving and he thinks about holding her back, but by the time he's decided she is no longer within reach.

He turns to look at the obscure skyline, the lights that are still flashing outside the window.

Sehun wonders if she ever was. 

Sometimes, Yoona jerks awake at four or five or so in the morning, just to ask about Choi Jinri, Kim Hyuna and many other names he doesn’t recall anymore.  

And this time, it is midnight when he wakes up and finds her staring straight at him. It’s so quiet in their bedroom, that they can hear the tiny raindrops splattering against the glass windows; he can hear her small sobs, heavy breaths, and even heartbeats.

“Yoona, please listen to me,” he whispers in the darkness, there’s distress in his eyes and stress lines coloring his expression, “please.”

Her back is pressed against the white concrete wall, face buried in her trembling hands. “Sehun,” she whimpers because she realizes she’s horrible, “I know, but I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I don’t really know why I can’t-”

It’s only a second later that Sehun reaches over and pulls her into an embrace, and he feels her whole body shake as she cries into his strong arms. She feels so frail and fragile and broken and all he wants to do is to help her piece herself back together.

“It’s all right. You will be fine.”

For some reason he doesn’t believe himself. There’s a pained expression coloring his features, as if he’s conflicted, as if he’s unsure, but he doesn’t understand why.

Sehun thinks something terrible is happening to Yoona and he’s scared.

He’s scared he might just be right. 

“Yoona, right?”

His voice is melodious and gentle and somewhat mellow, and when she looks up to meet his gleaming eyes, which remind her of the golden rays of sun that carry along warmth to the earth, there is a matching grin plastered across his handsome face. She smiles lightly in response, “Yes, Dr Lee.”

“Why do you think you are here today?”

“Sehun says you're his good friend from high school and you’ll be able to help me,” she looks hesitant for a long second and then continues, “I feel insecure and haven’t been able to sleep well every night.”

“May I ask for how long has your insomnia been going on?” 

“Half a year,” she fidgets for a moment in thought, “I’ve been taking sleeping pills but it’s not helping anymore.”

“You should stop taking them first,” Dr Lee advises, “there are possible adverse side effects and I’ll arrange a full body check-up for you soon.”

When the session is over, the first person she sees is Sehun. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall and staring intensely at the nameplate that writes Dr Lee Jinki, Chief Psychiatrist as if he’s praying hard for something.

“Sehun,” she murmurs, slowly walking towards him.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” he says reassuringly as he laces his fingers in between hers and he promises himself he’ll make her happy again someday.

Yoona’s smile is bittersweet as well, and for once in her life, she thinks that maybe there is hope.

He kisses her forehead and trails his fingers along the contours of her face, pulling the stray strands of loose hair behind her ears.

“It’s going to be okay,” his gaze softens at her, pools of the darkest shade of chocolate-brown. 

Yoona thinks that the flawless lies are always the most beautiful and cruel lies – they let her believe even the prettiest of things and everything that’s perfect and impossible, and that’s all Sehun is made up of.

It gets much better, Sehun thinks, she seems perfectly normal now.    

He calls her at four-thirty in the afternoon to tell her that he’s still in a meeting for the upcoming product launch and it’s going to take hours before he will be done.

“You all right?” he asks, genuine concern apparent in his tone. “Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you for Dr Lee’s appointment today?”

Yoona shakes her head with a slight smile. “Don’t worry, Sehun. I am fine. I have spoken to him over the phone. I know this product launch is extremely important to the company, isn’t it? I can manage on my own.”

“Yes it is. I’ll be home really quick after the meeting. Thank you, Yoona.” 

(What a liar. Don’t listen to him. He’s lying, Yoona. Sehun is a liar. You already know that.)

It begins to pour heavy sobs from the sky when she wakes up in the middle of the night, the ceiling too low and walls too close. The cold howling wind is biting at her skin, and she finds the other side of her bed empty. Sweat streamlines down her face as she reaches for the sleeping pills in the wardrobe. 

Yoona’s breathing is almost irregular now; she’s taking deep breaths, in and out. A flash of lightning cuts the sky in half, warning her of a thunderstorm instead of a drizzle and imminent threat. 

“He will be back soon,” she repeats this like a mantra as if her mind is haunted by something before the night closes like velvet curtains.

Yoona wakes up in the morning and realizes Sehun doesn’t come home that night, the night after, or the week that follows.

She gazes out to the streets through the windows, to the people walking by now and then.

It’s only after the fourth ring that she realizes her phone is ringing. “Hey Yoona,” she picks up the call and finds his voice so soothing. She figures that he likes his voice. It’s Dr Lee. He's her confidant because he always has all the answers that she needs. He's her sanctuary and he's the only one who can put her at ease.  

“He’s not back yet,” her voice cracks a little as she says,  “I don’t know what to do. Onew, what should I do? I’m scared.”

“Sehun will never come back to you,” he tells her, his tone is full of something that she can’t quite make out.

Yoona’s at a loss and it’s only when a loud knock on the door that she realizes the line has gone dead and he has already hung up. She tries to shake the trembling fear that’s slowly sneaking its way into her head. 

When she opens the door, she sees a beautiful woman standing outside. She flashes her identification card and it reads Chief Inspector, Tiffany Hwang Miyoung.

“I am Inspector Hwang. I need your assistance in the murder case of Oh Sehun.”