'In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It’s important to combine the two in just the right amount.'
—  Haruki Murakami

Taekwoon's apartment was nothing special. It was practically one, large room with only the bathroom separated from the rest. There was no TV, Ravi noticed as he set Taekwoon on the bed under the window on the far side, and the sofa was only big enough to seat two people. However, the East wall was practically one massive bookshelf. It was full of novels, old magazines, notebooks, CDs and, oddly enough, about six potted plants. One on each ledge- mostly cacti or small flowers; Ravi found a stereo sitting modestly on the floor. Although everything in the place was either white, black, grey or brown if you counted the shelves, nothing seemed to be deliberately coordinated. This was proven by the rug. It was made up of patches; patches of all different fabrics. Ravi swore he saw the actual pocket of a pair of jeans in one panel. Where the Hell had Taekwoon gotten something like this? Then his attention was drawn, for some reason or other, to the corner of the room.

A single wooden chair and a small laptop. Nothing else. No desk, no lamp... nothing. The chair peaked his interest though. It looked slightly sunken despite it's rigid structure, like it was tired of being sat on so much- or it had absorbed the feelings of it's frequent occupant, Ravi couldn't tell. It was a chair, for crying out loud. A chair with a small table attached like you would expect to see in a classroom, a sort of mini-desk, with the laptop perched on it. The dust gathering around it was evidence enough that it was never moved from that spot. It was conveniently next to a power source so it never had to be. 

"Nice place," he remarked lamely, turning back to where Taekwoon was sat hunched on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed. He scrunched up the white duvet in his hands, as though that was the only thing to focus on and keep him upright. His coat had fallen on the floor beside him. Ravi pursed his lips and his eyes wandered to the digital clock on the nightstand (well, it looked more like a crate you'd find at the back of a shop.) It was 6pm and already getting dark outside. He hadn't realised they'd been at the salon five hours; niether of them had eaten lunch and Taekwoon looked like he wasn't even contemplating dinner. He seemed to just want sleep; he had no idea his sickness could make the man so tired so easily. But Ravi couldn't just let him starve... could he? 

"Hey, do you want to eat? You skipped out on lunch-"

He was cut off by a string of quiet, incomprehensible mumbles. He couldn't make out a single word. He stared at Taekwoon for a few moments.The other man had his head slightly raised, allowing Ravi to see his fluttering eyelids and small pout under a cutain of newly blonde hair. He looked like a small child. Ravi bit his lip and took slow steps towards him, pulling back the top corner of the duvet and leading Taekwoon to lie on the mattress under it, still in his day clothes. He took his shoes off, which was difficult in itself let alone trying to do it without disturbing Taekwoon too much. The half-asleep man didn't even stir or utter a word. Ravi wasn't sure if he was already asleep. 

He stifled a chuckle and pulled the blanket up to Taekwoon's chin, half drawing the curtain and enveloping the room in almost complete darkness. "I had better go," he muttered as he saw the time. He made to walk away but before