3 :  w i t h o u t  a  f i g h t 

Days, weeks, months, years passed. One Sunday morning, Taemin sat at the computer desk, quietly reading a book. Rays of sunlight make it past the translucent bedroom curtains, painting his skin a bright yellow as he read his book line by line, embracing the emotions that the writer had sewn seamlessly into the fictional story. Behind him, Hyukjae was rummaging through his side of the wardrobe, searching for a top that would match his pants. He retrieved a folded yellow sweater from the bottom of the wardrobe and slipped it on, taking a step back to admire himself in the full-length mirror next to the wardrobe. Smiling, he combed his fingers through his hair, teasing it in all the right places. He looked over at the blond.

"Taemin ah," he called out, waiting for the blond to swivel around in his chair. When he didn't, Hyukjae walked over to the computer desk, slamming his hands down. Taemin jumped in his chair, startled.

"What the hell was that for?!" He yelled, rubbing his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He adjusted his reading glasses and slipped a bookmark into his book before closing it. Then he turned his chair to face the redhead, who was standing next to him with his arms folded and a worried look slapped across his face.

"You didn't hear me the first time. Anyway, are you sure you're going to be okay on your own for the holidays?"

Taemin leaned back in his chair, perplexed by the redhead's sudden question. He knew he'd be okay; he'd always been okay on his own. In fact, by now, he'd gotten accustomed to it, even after Hyukjae and him had grown close in the years that passed. Despite their closeness, Taemin always reminded himself to draw a clear line; he trusted no one, not even himself, and as hard as it was, he forced himself not to trust the redhead either. He knew himself too well, and he was well-aware of his terrible habit of clinging onto anyone, anyone that showed him even the slightest bit of kindness. He didn't want to make Hyukjae an exception.

"I'll be fine," he answered simply, smiling faintly. "It's not like it's the first time, anyway."

Sensing the bitterness in his friends voice, Hyukjae punched Taemin's shoulder playfully.

"C'mon, don't be like that." He caressed the blond's cheek tenderly, smiling. "I promise I'll spend more time with you after I'm back from my holiday with Donghae. I won't be gone for long anyway. Just a week."

Walking over to the big black suitcase on the floor in front of his bed, Hyukjae bent down, zipping it up. He lifted the suitcase upright and held its handle, yanking it upwards to extend its length. Taking one last look at his side of the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before going on his holiday, Hyukjae nodded to himself, mentally ticking away at some sort of checklist he imagined in his head. He pulled the black suitcase towards the front door before putting on his shoes. Just then, Taemin got up from his seat and walked over, leaning against the door. He watched as the redhead laced up his shoes.

"It better just be a week," Taemin warned playfully. "Otherwise I'll never forgive you. I still haven't forgiven you for pulling out of our plan of celebrating Chuseok with my parents two years ago."

Finishing the last knot, Hyukjae rose to his feet, putting his hands on his hips.

"Okay, first of all," he began, "the Chuseok thing was your idea. I didn't promise anything. And besides, if I had gone, I wouldn't have gone on that date to the amusement park with Donghae, and you and I both know how much of a turning point that date was for the both of us, although seeing how petty you've been since then does make me wish I had gone home with you for Chuseok. Secondly, I swear to god, if you keep up the petty behaviour, I'll ask for a new roommate!"

Tutting in response, Taemin opened the front door and stood with his arms outstretched, waiting for the redhead to embrace him. Hyukjae hugged him tightly, rubbing his back.

"I was just kidding," Taemin said, pulling away from the redhead's tight embrace. "Have fun in Switzerland, Hyukjae. Not too much fun, though. I might get jealous."

Hyukjae snorted, grabbing onto the handle of his suitcase. He dragged it behind him, strolling out of the dormitory room.

"Love you!" Taemin yelled as he watched the redhead leave. Hyukjae didn't answer though; he never had, and in the years to come, Taemin would learn that perhaps, he never would.

THIS FIC IS PART OF A 3-PART SERIES:

Who Waits for Love | Electric (Prequel) | Our Page (Sequel)