The stillness of the room is what wakes him up. His body is crammed into the small guest bed, a thin sheet covering him up. A slight ray of sunshine peeks from behind the curtains, which have been on purpose covered. A quick look at his phone told him that it was seven in the morning.

Turning, he faced the ceiling. Blinking, he slowly released the breath he wasn't aware he was holding till now, as if scared to break the stillness of the room.

He took in his surroundings quietly, the pale white walls of the guest room greeting him. The walls devoid of any ornaments to grace them appeared stark and somewhat missing something.

Just like Chanyeol himself.

He got up and slowly folded the sheet covering him and made up his bed. Proceeding to the common washroom, he eyed the mug and the brush in it. Smiling to himself, he picked it up and used his favorite mint toothpaste, as favorite as something can be in six months. His toothbrush was the same one he got some months back, and he was still using it, no one was there to force him to change it regularly or give him sincere lectures on hygiene. His home was not in the best shape, it felt like he was living in a dumpster. Chanyeol barely used the living room and the kitchen, finding solace in the guest room which hadn’t been frequented before.

He reminded himself to clean the apartment every other day, but something held him back. A look at the locked door, and all the memories would be back, flooding all his senses, till he curled up into the small bed and cried himself to sleep.

Even after six months of Chanyeol avoiding anything related to him like plague, there were still traces of him around the place, in spades.

Chanyeol had tried, but then he had come to the realization that he really loved the other man.

His only stupid act had been to blank out when he had confessed to him, preferring to stay silent. And, it had costed him. He had physically left the place while Chanyeol was out, but had kept every single belonging of his here at the apartment.

Chanyeol had waited the whole night on the sofa, his eyes never leaving the front door. On the third day, he had convinced himself, that his best friend wasn’t coming back.

He still remembered a simple question from his friend. It was the night after a drunken party, both of them stumbling home together and cuddling in the sofa, when he had asked in his soft yet deep voice, “Have you thought about the day we would be together for the last time?”

Chanyeol had no words then, too content to cuddle with the smaller man.

Looking at the mirror now, the face that looked back at him, Chanyeol didn’t recognize himself. His eyes were sunken in an ashen face, a face full of unkempt beard, his long curls framing most off his face, and the spark missing from his eyes.

He had taken Chanyeol’s essence to live, with him.

Looking at his poor self, Chanyeol remembered his question again and now, he had an answer.

Chanyeol refused to think of a day that would be their last day together. He refused to think of the day his best friend confessed to him to be the last day he saw the love of his life.

Chanyeol refused to live a life without the other man.

With eyes that looked back at him now full of determination, he quickly searched the essentials rack and found himself scissors and a new razor.

It was time to find Kyungsoo.