The night was quickly coming to an end as the morning was quietly approaching. Yet even if the dawn was close, Baekhyun hadn't gotten even a wink of sleep. The boy couldn't close his eyes even for a second as his worried heart couldn't stop thinking about him. And as he frustratingly rubbed his eyes before running his hands through the dusty pink of his silk locks, Baekhyun sat up in bed, pulling the covers off of him as it was getting too warm for his liking.

Where is he?
He promised to be home by midnight.

And so the boy reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his useless phone, unlocking it with a single print of his thumb and going straight for the call history to look for his number.

And there it was.
At the very top of the recent call list.

The worried boy hurriedly pressed atop the very familiar number, in hopes that maybe he will finally answer Baekhyun's call even if the pink-haired boy was unsuccessful the first 16 times.

Maybe 17th attempt will be the lucky one.

And so the phone rang...
And rang...
And rang...
And it endlessly rang.
Until the line went dead once again, just proving that seventeen was just as unlucky of a number as sixteen.

With frustration and worry filling him to the brim, Baekhyun carelessly threw the phone into the white sheets of the king-sized bed, for it to get lost and never be found again. Maybe that way he won't try to call him again, won't make a fool out of himself once more.

The morning sun wasn't rising just yet but with the pink-haired boy's endless tries of calling his number, the night sky had turned a bit brighter, signaling that the dawn was near.

Endless questions kept on running through his head as he sat in his empty bed, his empty house with his empty promise of spending the weekend with Baekhyun when he headed out to clubs with his friends.

Where even is he right now?
Is everything alright?
He's not hurt, right?
Not passed out somewhere too drunk to move, right?
Not with somebody else-

At that same exact second, his train of thoughts was interrupted by quiet 'beeps' of the lock's keypad which were coming from the very front door of the apartment, and Baekhyun jumped to his feet so quickly that he suddenly felt a bit too dizzy. Nonetheless, the pink-haired boy still managed to balance himself just in time as he heard the front door open. Fixing his shirt by slightly pulling it down, the boy covered his exposed thighs as he was 'sleeping' in only a shirt and a pair of boxers. Not even bothering to put on his slippers, the boy ran out of the bedroom barefoot and headed down the little hallway to the living room to see the intruder. To see if he was finally home after all these restless hours.

And as he rushed to the previously-vacant living room, the pink-haired boy's eyes widened as he saw a man stumbling to the couch, drunkenly tripping over his own feet. The black-haired man kept on blabbering something to himself as Baekhyun couldn't understand even a single word that was coming from his intoxicated boyfriend. He could only stand there, in the doorway of their shared living room, as he watched the man whom he once loved without even saying anything. The boy could only take a second look at his boyfriend who was too drunk to stand on his own feet before he hesitatingly took the first step towards him.

"Seungwoo, Are you drunk...?" Baekhyun quietly called out as he stepped in front of the man who was sprawled all over the sofa, worry never once vanishing from the boy's tired eyes. The sadness along with the uncontrollable feeling of disappointment was just flowing out from under his skin as Baekhyun couldn't help but hate every single second of his being, hate himself for what Seungwoo had done to him. Yet why was he the first one to always greet the man with open arms as though nothing had ever happened at all? Why was he so foolish to trust Seungwoo again and again after endlessly being betrayed by the man with a stone-cold heart? Why was he so naive to not realize that Seungwoo was slowly destroying him from both inside and outside too? Ripping apart his already-broken heart, clawing on his bruised skin and chewing out all his insides, leaving nothing but an empty shell with nobody to turn to and nobody to help him-

No.

Baekhyun knew.
Baekhyun knew all along.

Yet he couldn't turn away, he couldn't bring himself to stop taking the poison which was Seungwoo.

He didn't know how to live without him anymore. Simply because the boy became too addicted to his hurtful words, to his disgusting hands and his disturbing actions. To all those sickening things which only hurt Baekhyun each and every single second of his living. Tortured him like the tyrant that Seungwoo was, made the boy regret ever being born and hating himself for it too. Resenting himself for not being able to love Seungwoo or not backing out of this relationship either. He hated himself for being so weak but so manipulated, so sensitive but so resilient. Baekhyun was already too addicted to Seungwoo as though he was or heroin or methamphetamine.

When there is no one left to hurt you anymore, you'll just be left with nothing.

Feeling pain was better than not feeling at all. Better than feeling nothing.

But the man only laughed at Baekhyun's concerned words, trying to sit up straight: "I don't know... what you're talking about, of course not." His words were slow, slurred and all over the place so the pink-haired boy figured that Seungwoo was indeed drunk. And just like his promise of spending the weekend with Baekhyun, the promise of not drinking anymore flew out of the window too.

The disappointment and disgust which the boy felt were so obvious yet Seungwoo seemed oblivious to it: "Woo, you promised me that you won't drink anymore... that you at least won't stay out late after what happened last time..." The boy said, regretting it soon after as unpleasant memories and images of a certain incident from the past ran through his busy mind. Baekhyun wanted to forget that day with all his heart yet he could