Taemin woke up half past eight according to the time display on his phone. Groaning, he rolled over, arms patting the apparently empty space beside him. Eyes shooting open, he sat up, spinning around in an unkempt circle. Where was Mir?

A folded piece of paper emerged from the crumpled bed sheets freezing Taemin in place for a long second. Pale yellow light spilled over the cream colored paper, dazzling against the plain white waves of blanket. “Hmm…?” he mumbled to himself, picking up the sheet.

Slowly, Taemin tugged the loosely creased letter open and read silently:

Sorry I’m not with you right now.

I have a history test at 11 AM today so I’ve gone to the library to study. I really wanted to wake up next to you, or just sleep all day with you. We could probably use the rest, right? I feel more at ease when I’m writing to you. Actually, I think both of us are more honest on paper.

Since I ditched you for studying, I’ll tell you something that I hope will make you smile. Every single detail of our relationship has bounced through my mind since that first, weird night at KUG.

Do you think it’s strange that I almost liked being harassed by you on that dance floor?

Or maybe it’s really odd that I was excited and nervous and so many other things when you pulled me into that bathroom during Thanksgiving break freshman year…and…well, yeah.

Sometimes I think about the bad times too though, but when I feel like giving up, truly giving up…I go to your dorm room and see the music box I gave you two years ago.

You kept it safe this whole time.

Even though I wanted to just walk away...because you just didn’t seem interested in me…I would always stop myself.

You kept it.

You kept the only important thing in my life safe. I don’t know how to say my thanks. That music box is the only thing that has ever been constant in my life. It’s as constant as my heartbeat.

So, in a way, you’re always holding my heart, right?

No one else is going to hold it so long as that music box is yours.

I feel like saying it again, I love you. I promise you’ll hear it a lot from now on. We’re moving forward Taemin…it’s sort of scary but sort of exciting too, huh? Maybe you’re having second thoughts but I hope you aren’t. We…are special. There’s something so special between us.

It’s hard to describe but maybe someday I’ll be able to find the words to tell you exactly what I’m feeling.

Write back to me, okay?

Mir

The door clicked, hinges creaking as they were forced to twist. Taemin’s head snapped up, cheeks flushed red, hands fumbling to hide the letter. Over the threshold, Minho trudged inside looking like Hell had chewed him up and spit him back out.

“What’s wrong with you?” Taemin wrinkled his nose, scooting away from his exhausted roommate’s sluggish form.

Minho shot the boy a glare. “Why are you dressed? You and Mir didn’t spend last night together?” he asked with far more venom than intended.

And what a true statement that should have been. Taemin had pushed for but after their heart-to-heart at the dance, he couldn’t bring himself to want . It just didn’t feel as important as it always had. Being with Mir, just having his arms around him, had been enough that night.

The best part though…the absolute best part was they slept all the way until morning. Taemin couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t awoken in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking from nightmares of the past.

It wasn’t just him that dreamed those dreams. Most of the academy’s students were haunted – a sad side effect from living such a pitiful life. Reliving the worst moments of your history was a nightly thing. Some experiences are impossible to forget and to try and forget grief, abuse, everything in between was simply illogical, a waste of time.

“We just slept together,” Taemin responded, eyeing the purple, puffy bruise on his roommate’s jaw. “Did you get mauled by a forest bear or something?” He cocked an eyebrow, suppressing a grin   

Minho gently rubbed sore body parts, ignoring the snarky jab. There had been enough literal jabbing earlier that morning. Quite honestly, he was tired of being beaten and battered. That one time from freshman year was enough. The last thing he wanted to experience was a huge foot knocking the wind out of him...again. “Sungmin punched me,” Minho grunted, gingerly tugging his shirt off and tossing it into a laundry basket by the closet.

“For what?” Taemin asked, sounding flabbergasted.

“I told him that I forced myself on him at Key’s party,” before Taemin could make any comments though, Minho kept talking, “but it was a lie.” Minho smiled wryly at his roommate’s obvious confusion.

Taemin crawled out of bed, legs dangling over the edge. “So…why would you do that?” He frowned, “You’re crazy about Sungmin aren’t you? At least, I thought you were from all of the sleep talking.”

“I don’t sleep talk!” Minho snapped. “And I didn’t want him to think he cheated on Ryeowook.” An annoyed sigh slipped from him. “Key’s roommate, Jonghyun, was the one who made a move on Sungmin. If Sungmin thought he drunkenly hooked up with Jonghyun, he’d feel ten times worse than,” Minho pointed at himself, wincing a bit at his clenching jaw muscles, “if he thought I took total advantage of him.”

Taemin could only stare for an initial reaction. Once that phase passed, he shook his head slowly and said, “That’s such ed up logic. In the end, he still did something wrong so why are you protecting him? Wouldn’t it be better to stay out of their problem?”

“Since when were you preaching morals?” the taller boy scoffed. “I’m doing what I think will make him feel better.” He crossed his arms, leaning back against a desk, “…You didn’t see his face…I couldn’t take it.” A pink color flushed his cheeks and he turned away from Taemin. “Don’t say it. Just shut up.”

The blonde only chuckled, getting out of bed and walking over to the opposing desk. “I didn’t say anything,” he stated, sitting down and taking out a sheet of paper. “Do you think we’re going soft?” Taemin questioned as he carefully uncapped a pen and traced the letters of Mir’s name.

“…Sometimes,” Minho admitted quietly, moving to his bed and lying down, “but it’s sort of nice…being vulnerable I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” And then he began writing a reply to his boyfriend’s note.