After showering, Ryeowook attempted to call his boyfriend for perhaps the fifth time that night. At first he figured Sungmin got the memo about Mir being alright, but when he called the voice message didn’t even pop up; it just went straight to a dead droning line.

The Honors Dorm was quiet all around except for a few noises come from select bedrooms. Most of the students were, as stated before, away on trips. Everyone who was still around didn’t give a damn about each other which was perfectly fine.

Thunder roared outside causing Ryeowook to jump. He bumped into a firm body and spun around, the towel around his neck flying. “Oh, Kyu,” he smiled uneasily, heart pounding.

Kyuhyun picked up the edge of the damp towel, pressing it to Ryeowook’s slightly dripping hair. “Dry this properly, dummy,” he remarked distractedly.

Ryeowook reached up, his hand covering Kyuhyun’s, “I will.”

“Where’s the Stupid Bunny?” he suddenly asked, breaking contact and stepping back.

A blush rushed across Ryeowook’s face but the color quickly drained as he listened to the rain increase in intensity. “I don’t know. He’s somewhere without phone reception. I’ve been trying to call him and I’m getting worried.”

“Ah hell,” Kyuhyun groaned, raking fingers through hair, “don’t tell me he’s trapped in that storm. We’ve had enough for one day from that stupid rain.”

Ryeowook muffled a sigh, knowing that Kyuhyun was thinking of Donghae. The phone lines were all down more or less and the hospital hadn’t contacted him yet. Everything was a perfect wreck. “I hope the rain stops…,” Ryeowook remarked under his breath, eyes scanning the black night.

“You didn’t go eat did you?” Kyuhyun looked down at him.

“You didn’t either,” he returned.

The taller boy cracked a tiny smile. “Cook for me?”

Ryeowook reached out, offering his hand as if they were still children. Without hesitation, Kyuhyun took it, allowing the smaller figure to lead him down the hall towards the Honors Dorm kitchen.

Cooking was something Ryeowook had always been great at, Kyuhyun had to admit. During their days in the foster program he had honed his skills in making food, often feeding the both of them late in the night when they were hungry. The guardians never minded of course. After all, how could they mind when Ryeowook also made them food at their request?

“What do you want to eat?” he prompted.

Kyuhyun let his shoulders rise and fall. “Whatever is in the fridge, I guess.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Ryeowook said softly, “he’ll be healthy again.”

The hand around his tightened and Kyuhyun stepped closer to the boy. “That’s not good enough. He needs to be healthy on an athlete’s level.”

“I don’t think I can promise that though,” he replied solemnly, “I’m sorry Kyu…”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Kyuhyun ascertained, practically lying to his self. At the earliest, Donghae would be in condition to play sports in three to four days and at the latest it could be three to four weeks, if it was a sprain.

Ryeowook chewed his bottom lip, not even wanting to consider how long recovering from surgery would take. Even after surgery, Donghae would never be able to play soccer at the same level as now. A torn ACL was basically tearing your knee in half. That particular segment of the joint held the entire thing together. If it collapsed so did the leg.

“You can sit down and wait for me if you want,” Ryeowook stated, going to the kitchen area and pulling on an apron. He tied it twice around his waist, knotting it in the front. Then he went about searching for ingredients, having decided on as simple a dish as possible. Neither of them was very hungry after all.

 Kyuhyun obeyed, laying his head down on the circular wooden table. His eyes closed as he listened to the soft humming of Ryeowook and the numbing clang of metal pots and pans. It was just like old times – the happy old times, where there were only two people in the entire world. The white clouds and blue sky were still pure. The dark, polluted city wasn’t just beyond the barrier either. Everything had been perfect.

But perfection isn’t in high demand these days. Now people want to see the imperfections of their favorite stars and, more importantly, everyone in between.

He moved around in the chair, turning back to gaze at the bustling Ryeowook. A smile played on the boy’s lips as he dropped ingredients into a steaming pot of water and then returned to chop some sort of green vegetable.

What if we fell in love?Kyuhyun blinked. Why was he suddenly thinking about that? Better yet, why had he thought that in the first place?

Was falling in love again such a good thing? Wouldn’t Ryeowook just end up hurting him? In their current situation, the only one up for pain was Kyuhyun. Sungmin would take Ryeowook away to a happy place and protect him. On the other hand, who would take Kyuhyun away?

There was no one left.

“Did you take a shower yet, Kyuhyun?” Ryeowook asked, dropping ingredients into a boiling pot of water.

“Yeah,” he murmured, yawning.

“You can take a short nap if you want,” the small boy remarked, “It’ll take at least another fifteen minutes to finish preparing dinner.” Ryeowook came over to touch Kyuhyun’s arm, urging him to move towards the couch.

Kyuhyun allowed himself to be pushed out of the kitchen, eyes resting on Ryeowook as the same words pounded in his mind. What if we… He tried to shake it off but it wasn’t budging. Instead, it played like a broken record.

“We’ll call the hospital immediately tomorrow morning,” Ryeowook said quietly, squeezing Kyuhyun’s arm gently, “so relax. There’s nothing either of us can do right now.”

Of course he was right. It was just difficult to accept. Kyuhyun felt as if he could do something but really, the reality was beginning to sink in. That feeling of hope was simply hope. What could you do with hope? Unless you had the ability to act, praying and crying and sulking did nothing.

But how can anyone ask for humans to be so emotionless? Kyuhyun was strong, but even he wasn’t strong enough to be immune to the turmoil in his chest and mind. “Can you sit with me?” he blurted, eyes darting to Ryeowook.

The latter’s eyes grew, lips parting in surprise. “W-Why?”

Kyuhyun shrugged casually, trying to cover up the whine. “It’s nothing, never mind,” he muttered, “just go back to cooking.”

“Uhm…alright,” Ryeowook mumbled, backing away and gliding towards the kitchen, “Just rest up Kyu. I’ll be done soon.”

Sure enough, fifteen or so minutes later Ryeowook was emerging from the warmly scented area with a pot of soup in his oven mitt protects hands. He set it down on the coffee table quietly, not wanting to disturb the slumbering Kyuhyun.

There were dark circles under his eyes, ones that Ryeowook hadn’t noticed. Just how much training had Kyuhyun been doing with Donghae to form those sorts of facial lines? How many hours had they spent during Spring Break intensively practicing and prepping?

Ryeowook slid the back of his fingers across the side of Kyuhyun’s sloping face, free hand pressing down on the couch. The skin was warm under his touch, smooth in some places and rougher in others. He half kneeled on the cushions, curiously moving forward until he was looming over the sleeping boy.

“Kyu…,” Ryeowook cooed close to the other’s ear, his hand drifting down to slightly caress Kyuhyun’s neck, “wake up, Kyu…”

Dark, bleary eyes flitted open, gazing foggily up at Ryeowook, “Go away,” he mumbled childishly, “I want to sleep.” Kyuhyun tried to turn away but the conscious boy stopped him, forcing him to wake up with a few violent shakes.

“Are you awake now?” Ryeowook asked, frowning and moving back.

Kyuhyun glared and grunted, sitting upright. “Yeah, what’re we eating?” He peered into the steaming pot, pleased surprise lighting his features. “Oh…you remembered my favorite.”

“It’s easy too,” he replied, smiling sweetly and taking a spoon. Ryeowook dipped it into the soup, blowing once on it before feeding it to Kyuhyun. The latter ate it agreeably, taking up his own spoon and scooping out a bit of tofu for Ryeowook.

The continued that way until the pot was nearing the bottom. At times, Ryeowook would giggle at the amount Kyuhyun would try to feed him, only to receive an annoyed glare and persistent push of a fully loaded spoon.

“I can do the dishes,” Kyuhyun stated, picking up the pot and dropping the utensils inside of it.

“Really?” Ryeowook stood up, following the other boy, unsure.

“I can do this at the very least,” he scoffed, turning on the water and soaking the metal for a while in hot water.  

Ryeowook watched uneasily, but said nothing.

The look wasn’t missed by his companion though. With another annoyed sigh, Kyuhyun pointed towards the living room, saying, “Get out and get some sleep. It’s been a long day and tomorrow isn’t going to be any better. There’s a hell of a lot that needs to be done when the morning comes.”

“That’s true,” Ryeowook agreed reluctantly, slowly moving towards the exit, “just—”

Bzzt…bzzt…

Ryeowook practically launched himself at the phone, scrabbling to open it and answer. Kyuhyun was right next to him, ear pressed to the receiver, hands curled around the slender boy’s shoulders. “H-Hello? This is Kim Ryeowook speaking.”

“Hello? This is Dr. Choi, I finally got a call through the storm,” he spoke gravely, a fact that dropped both the boys’ hearts.

“Did the hospital contact you?” Ryeowook asked.

“Yes…Donghae isn’t in a good place right now. His injury is more serious than previously supposed. He…He’s going into surgery tonight. They can’t guarantee that he’ll be able to play soccer for the next year or so.”

The hands around his shoulders tightened and Ryeowook turned up to see Kyuhyun’s head lowered, forehead resting against the smaller one’s neck. “A-Ah…thanks.”

“Tell Kyuhyun I’m sorry,” Dr. Choi said softly, “tell him that it would be the best if he supported Donghae throughout this.”

“I…I will.” Ryeowook ended the call and immediately Kyuhyun was embracing him tightly, body trembling severely. “It’s okay Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook whispered, crying silently, “I’ll cry for you…”

He said nothing in reply, just nodded and held on to what, he was starting to realize, was his love.