xiv.

Chanyeol woke up to the crushing weight of Baekhyun sitting on his chest; he had his hands wrapped around Chanyeol's throat, squeezing so hard he couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. How the hell did Baekhyun get into his apartment? He made several desperate attempts to move, but his eyes were the only parts of him not paralysed. Baekhyun's stare was icy, unflinching; his skin was ghostly white and felt abnormally cold, like he’d just shoved his hands into a bucket of ice water. He whispered something that Chanyeol couldn't make out at first, but then the garbled words rearranged themselves into something he recognised —‘keep your breathless charm.’

He woke up again, this time for real, clawing at his throat and gasping for air. He fell for this every time. He'd felt those hands — the long, cold fingers pressing into his neck, squeezing the life from him, and was convinced they were real. He still couldn't breathe properly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thought he might pass out.

Chanyeol knew it wasn't Baekhyun's fault that he'd become the newest cast member in these visions of terror, but somehow it felt like a betrayal anyway. It had been two weeks since they’d seen each other in the flesh; Baekhyun hadn’t answered any of his calls, and when Chanyeol had attempted showing up to a ballroom class, he’d said hello in a way that was more polite than friendly, but afterwards he paid Chanyeol no further attention. Chanyeol didn’t feel the need to show up again after that; there would be no point. But now that nightmare-Baekhyun was gone, he only missed the real version of him even more.

He’d been having more hallucinations than usual, lately. Chanyeol knew that a number of things could bring them on, especially stress, and in many ways, the past couple of weeks had been particularly stressful. There was the issue of Baekhyun not talking to him, and Jongin’s untimely return, and his fragile emotional state was making his already unpredictable condition go haywire. He found himself nodding off more and more at work, then waking up and having to explain himself, always having to apologise for something he couldn’t control. The hardest day was when he arrived at the hospital for a group session with the kids and noticed that Jenny wasn’t there; when one of the nurses informed him afterwards that they’d lost her, Chanyeol had simply nodded in silence, too numb to react at first. He’d walked into the nearest bathroom, promptly bursting into tears as soon as he was alone, and ended up falling asleep on the floor instead.

In some ways, his ability to leave the world behind for a little while — especially when it was at its cruelest — could be considered a small mercy, Chanyeol thought. But only a very small one.

After lying on the sofa to recover for a couple of minutes, he forced himself up to get ready for work. By the time he arrived at his office, he was already so exhausted that he plopped down in front of his desk, resting his head upon its hard surface. He hadn’t done any preparation for the day at all, but the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He was too tired to care. He closed his eyes, feeling certain that sleep would claim him quickly, but it didn’t.

A loud knock at the door startled him, followed by the sound of it gently being pushed open. Chanyeol looked up, blinking his tired, dried-out eyes, and saw a girl named Keira standing there with her mother. Keira was ten years old and, for reasons unknown even to her parents, had suddenly stopped speaking at the age of five. But as far as musical ability went, she was one of Chanyeol’s most gifted clients; it was obvious that she dearly loved the piano, and because Chanyeol loved it too, he felt that they shared a special bond that transcended language. Getting a rare smile out of her was like winning the lottery. But right now, even the prospect of working with Keira couldn’t cheer him up.

“I’m just popping out to do some shopping. I’ll be back at eleven,” Keira’s mother said, and Chanyeol must have looked awful, because she offered him a sympathetic smile. She closed the door behind her, waving at them both through the glass panel before she left.

Because he hadn’t prepared for their time together, Chanyeol started Keira off with a simple sight-reading exercise while he tried to draw up a last-minute session plan. She wasn't in a very co-operative mood, and kept mashing the piano keys with her palms instead of playing the piece he’d chosen for her. Eventually something inside Chanyeol snapped, and he yelled out “for ’s sake!” before he could stop himself. Keira just sat there for a moment, frozen stiff, staring at her hands splayed across the keys. She got up and ran out of the room.

“,” Chanyeol muttered under his breath, getting up from his seat to follow her. “Keira, wait..”

Keira ran out into the waiting room of the medical centre, with none of the people sitting there doing a thing to stop her. Chanyeol ran past them, yelling “I’m sorry, Keira!”, thinking briefly about how bad this was probably going to appear to any onlookers — a thirty-year-old man chasing after a scared-looking ten-year-old girl. He could hear the pattering of her Mary Janes down the stairwell, and felt the panic expanding inside his chest. If she ran out into the street, he would be in big trouble.

When Chanyeol got to the bottom of the stairs, he almost ran smack-bang into someone, stopping short just in time. He looked at the man standing in front of him, his eyes widening. “Jongin..?”

Jongin just stood there and smiled at him: that typical, non-committal, classic Jongin smile — which was almost not a smile and more of a smirk. He had one hand placed gently on Keira's shoulder. “Are you missing a child, by any chance? She nearly ran right into me on my way in.” Keira stared at the floor; she made no move to run away, but her eyes, usually revealing no clues as to her emotional state, had a flighty, desperate look about them.

“She’s one of my clients.” Chanyeol swallowed hard, then leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He felt like he was seconds away from passing out. “What are you doing here, anyway? Never mind... don’t answer that. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with it right now.”

Jongin’s smirk faded. He actually looked a bit flustered for once. “Do you think I could talk to you for a moment..?”

“I’m kind of in the middle of a session,” Chanyeol said. “Or I was, anyway, before she ran out on me. It’s my fault, I was too hard on her.”

“It’s fine… I won’t disturb you. I’ll just wait outside until you’re done.”

Chanyeol sighed. “Alright, whatever. I guess I don’t have a choice, do I..?”

“I’m more than prepared to sit in the waiting room all day until you decide to talk to me,” Jongin said quietly. “I’ll just put it that way.”

“Fine. Sit outside and wait for me, then.” Chanyeol put a hand on Keira’s shoulder, steering her back towards the stairs. “Come on, Keira. Let’s go.”

Keira refused to perform for the rest of the session, and in the end Chanyeol had to call her mother to come and collect her early. She seemed understanding of the situation, but he couldn’t help thinking it was possible he’d never see the girl again. Any progress they’d made could all potentially be undone… the mere thought broke his heart already, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Pulling himself together, he called Jongin into his office and closed the door.

“Okay,” he said, looking pointedly at his watch. “I have about fifteen minutes until the next one gets here. So if you have something to say, you’d better spill it.”

Jongin sat down in the chair opposite Chanyeol’s desk, leaning back with his arms casually crossed over his chest. “I just want to talk, that’s all… you’ve barely let me say a single word to you since I got back. And I figured, if I didn’t corner you and force you to talk to me, it was probably never going to happen, so..”

“Well, showing up at my workplace isn't exactly the best way to go about it,” Chanyeol said irritably. “Haven't you disrupted things enough..?”

“You haven’t really given me a choice, have you?” Jongin said, rolling his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry — I heard about the performance from Jongdae, and I wanted to come and watch. I didn't think it'd be such a huge problem. Why didn't you tell me you were dancing, anyway? I would have liked to know too.”

Chanyeol let out a long, forceful exhale; this was too much for him already, and he was starting to feel exhausted. “You broke my heart, Jongin… I can't even look at you anymore without being reminded of how that made me feel. Anyway, you gave up your right to know everything that’s going on in my life; especially about me trying to find a bit of happiness somewhere else.”

Jongin sighed. “I know… you’re right. But just because I moved away, it doesn't mean I don't want to know how you’re doing. I never stopped caring about you.”

“Well, now you know,” Chanyeol said angrily. “Now you know I’m a terrible dancer, and I hope it makes you happy. I guess I'll probably be giving it all up anyway, now that the person who was teaching me won’t even speak to me anymore.” Jongin looked guilty as soon as Chanyeol said this, and he wanted to derive some form of satisfaction from it, but it only left him feeling emptier.

“I’ve really missed you, you know,” Jongin said in a quiet voice. “I know I have no right to feel that way, but I do. I’ve missed you so much.”

Chanyeol looked at him for a long time, his lips pursed, but then his expression softened. “I’ve missed you too,” he whispered, and in spite of everything, he meant it.

Jongin got up and walked over to the other side of the desk, slowly, as though afraid he might scare Chanyeol away. Then he took Chanyeol's face in his hands, leaned down and kissed him, and for a minute or two, Chanyeol let him do it. Jongin had always been a good kisser. Jongin was good at everything, in fact; clever, handsome, ambitious, the kind of guy everyone liked and wanted to be — but all Chanyeol could think about while they were kissing was that he wasn't Baekhyun. Beautiful, sweet, funny Baekhyun, who danced on the sand so he wouldn’t hurt himself, and laughed about his injections, and, while never denying Chanyeol’s condition and its accompanying limitations, had never seen him as anything but capable; who pulled Chanyeol out of the deep blue and made him feel like life could be wonderful again, even when it wasn’t. Especially when it wasn’t.

“I can’t, Jongin.” With his hand on Jongin's chest, Chanyeol gently pushed him away. “I’m sorry. I don't feel that way about you anymore.”

Jongin’s expression was either one of disappointment or confusion; Chanyeol couldn't tell which. “Not at all..?”

Chanyeol paused. He couldn’t really bring himself to say there was someone he liked kissing a lot more; but even if that person never wanted to talk to him ever again, that fact alone still changed everything. Baekhyun had a firm hold on his heart, and it was clear to Chanyeol that he wasn’t ever going to give it back. He sighed and sank down into his chair. “I want nothing more than for you to be happy, and I appreciate that you came all the way back here for me… but I’m not going to get into this with you again. I can’t just forget how you made me feel that easily.”

Jongin stood there before Chanyeol, his normally full lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” he said, and offered Chanyeol a pleasant smile, but his eyes looked pained. “You definitely don’t love me anymore..?”

Chanyeol sighed. “Jongin..”

“It's okay. I know you don't owe me anything. I just need to know.”

“A part of me will always love you,” Chanyeol said quietly. “But I love him more.”

Jongin nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He walked towards the door of Chanyeol's office and turned around, just as his hand went to the handle to open it. “I hope you’ll at least let me take you to dinner one time,” he said. “I just want to do one nice thing for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” Chanyeol said. Jongin left him alone then, and Chanyeol didn’t know if he really would see him again, or if he would end up going back to London at some point. But Jongin was no longer his concern, and he’d elected not to be a long time ago. That was a choice he had made on his own, and knowing this made Chanyeol’s mind and heart feel lighter and clearer than they had in a while. But that still left Baekhyun. Chanyeol knew he had to try and see him, to at least explain how he felt. It was entirely likely that Baekhyun wouldn't want to talk to him, but he would give it one last shot, and only then would he let go, if he had to.

He made plans to go