Onew couldn’t believe how stupid and naive he was. Not only was Kyuhyun not gay, he was his brother. How sick and twisted could he possibly be?! How could he actually believe that Kyuhyun, his gorgeous, popular, amazingly talented and widely loved hyung could actually be attracted to his own little brother, of all people? Onew hung his head in shame, his tears swept away and down his face with the water of his shower. He was beyond mortified, and let the hot water burn his face to prevent him from opening his eyes, for fear that he might catch a glimpse of his own reflection in the bathroom lighting. He shivered despite the warmth of his hot shower and buried his hands in his face, briefly wondering if he could asphyxiate himself if he tried hard enough. How could he be burning and freezing at the same time? He wasn't sure; all he knew was that he was.

Onew was too shellshocked to do anything other than let himself cry; screaming required some amount of life that he just didn't have. Completely paralyzed, apart from the deep breaths of heavily steamed hot air that sat heavy in his lungs, he became a prisoner to the shame that occupied his body.

He turned off the water and got out of the shower, thankful that the heat of the steam had fogged up the mirror. He was too ashamed to look at himself in the mirror. Not only had he humiliated himself, he had no idea what his rash actions had done to his relationship as brothers.

Would Kyuhyun refuse to see him ever again? His mind always reached for the worst, but perhaps that would be for the best. How could Onew even show his face to his brother ever again after what he’d done? Just thinking about Kyuhyun brought back memories of his face and the grimace he displayed in response to Onew’s advancements.

Onew couldn’t live without Kyuhyun, this much he was absolutely sure of, and his mind fell down the rabbit hole of envisioning what his life would be like should that hole be left in his heart permanently. A wave of nausea crashed over him and he dry heaved violently. His hands shook as threw back the shower curtain and he reached out to clutch a towel for support. When he stepped out of the shower, he thought his knees might give in.

He was spiraling, spiraling, lost, control no longer a concept. He began to hyperventilate, and his heart felt like each beat would be its last. Good. He wanted it to.

In the blink of an eye, his body became too heavy, too much work to be responsible for. With no life force left,  gravity became his only guiding force and brought him crashing down to the floor. Who knows how long had passed before Onew could feel the cold bathroom tiles beneath him nudge him back towards reality, but his eyes did begin to focus, and he slowly became aware of his surroundings.

It was right there next to him. Right there. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to grab the all too familiar object from the shower and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall in a violent impact, breaking into its component pieces. He couldn't stop himself. Onew was beyond rationale, beyond thought, and operated in complete survival mode as his unconscious attempted to keep him going. He crawled like a dying animal across the floor, and before he knew it, the blades of the broken razor were clutched tightly between his shaking fingers. A dangerous habit he hadn't resorted to in years, he desperately grasped for control, letting his blood flow into an ocean that barely drowned out the pain.