Jaehwan bought himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t really need it: he couldn’t feel anything, exhaustion included. He’s been awake for 20-22 hours, but he doesn’t know if he’s sleepy. It doesn’t even matter.

Apart from not needing caffeine at the moment, he didn’t even want to buy the coffee. It wasn’t a conscious action: it was automatic like wetting your lips with your tongue when they feel dry. One moment he was standing by the four chairs his friends had occupied in the waiting room and in the next, he was feeding some bills to the vending machine in a different area. The only thing that broke his reverie was a kind voice when a nurse asked him, “Do you need help?”. Jaehwan blinked then, looking from the nurse to the buttons of the machine and then down at the white Styrofoam cup in his hand.

“No,” he said simply, not trusting his voice enough to say anything more.

There was only one thing, one person he needed, but he couldn’t run to that person for a hug.

When he got back to the chairs, one of them was already empty. His legs felt weak enough that he didn’t want to stay standing anymore, so he sat down slowly, as if he was in a daze. He felt drugged. He still does.

“Jaehwan,” Wonshik rasped, his voice grating on Jaehwan's nerves like the sound of the burr on a blade when you try to sharpen a crappy knife. Wonshik then took the cup from Jaehwan and pulled a crumpled tissue out of his pocket, wiping the coffee drops off the Styrofoam before doing the same to Jaehwan's shaky hands. “You’ll burn yourself,” Wonshik murmured and lifted the cup to his mouth, drinking just enough that when he handed it back to Jaehwan, the coffee wouldn’t spill as Jaehwan held it again.

Jaehwan looked into Wonshik's sad, bloodshot eyes that seemed to droop more than usual. The sight was like cold water poured over his head: sobering and painful, and Jaehwan couldn’t bear to keep the eye contact. He glanced down at the coffee in his hand and has been staring at it ever since.

The reflection of his face is blurred from the ripples on the surface of his drink as his hands shake more and more wildly, a tear unexpectedly dropping into the beverage.

He feels a smile form on his lips as he thinks: now this is a salted caramel latte.

His smile fades away as fast as it appeared when he imagines how Hakyeon would laugh at that stupid, stupid joke, his voice ringing through the place so loudly they would probably get scolded for it.

Jaehwan drops the cup as he starts crying in earnest.