Sehun’s POV

 

I still remember that night. 

 

It was cold, snowing. 

 

It was the first snow of the year, and I ran away empty handed. 

 

It was dark, until he came. 

 

He was running behind me, panting. Upon noticing my lack of clothes, he offered me that stupid giant coat and ear muffs he bought with his allowance. 

 

I said nothing. No thanks.

 

But ever since he came, I noticed something. 

 

The sky was suddenly sparkling. 

 

The stars were suddenly visible. 

 

I wouldn’t have noticed any of that if not because of him. 

 

I still remember my brother’s delighted voice as he counted the stars.

 

He said there were seven.

 

That it was a lucky number. 

 

I said I don’t care, and yet I still looked up.

 

And I found myself smiling. 

 

As I denied that I was fantasized by the stars and the sincerity of his childish grin, I realized then that I would be lonely without this guy. 

 

Without Luhan. 

 

—

 

When Luhan first came to the house, I immediately hated the sight of him. 

 

He was small, smaller than I.

 

He was adorable, and he looked like an innocent baby mothers would love to spoil. Mother said we were of the same age and birthday, and that he was going to be my brother from then on. 

 

I was only 7. 

 

And yet I hated him and blamed him; as if I was old enough to understand that life was unfair. 

 

I didn’t know my father. I only had my mother, who was rarely home. I had spent years alone on my birthday. Sure, I had my friends. My mom paid people to throw parties for me at school and at home. But at the end of the day, I still had no one. 

 

My mother’s presence was something I craved, yet she gave it all to a boy she wasn’t even related to. 

 

My mother’s absence was an everyday nightmare that always came true, and she wasn’t there to save me. 

 

Luhan was. 

 

Luhan has always been there. 

 

I pretended he wasn’t. 

 

I knew that.

 

It just never occured to me that — that one day, I would have to lose him. 

 

And that was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

 

-

 

“Happy birthday, hunnie.”

 

The first feather was when I was eight.

 

When Luhan gave it to me, it was wrapped in a yellow paper. It was 11:59 at night, and he was home instead of my mother. I had no idea where my mother took him that day, but I refused to ask.

 

I couldn’t avoid making assumptions that he had so much fun on our birthday, whilst I was at school partying with friends yet distracted and hoping my mother would pick me up early. 

 

Instead of asking him where’s mom? Where did she take you? Why didn’t she come see me? Is she coming back soon? 

 

I told him to ‘get lost’. 

 

And he’d be gone. 

 

I would hesitantly listen to his tiny footsteps fading away in the darkness. 

 

Holding back the urge to stop him and beg him to accompany me — just because I was scared of being alone and getting disappointed when mom doesn’t come back. 

 

I continued pushing him away, almost like my mother did to me. 

 

Luhan would do the same act everytime it’s our birthday. At 11:59, he would come see me in the kitchen or in my room pretending to be asleep; then he’d greet me a happy birthday and give me a white feather.

 

He would often just assume I’d kept them all — which I did. I had no idea why I did such a thing.

 

Perhaps, it was because the feathers were soft yet strong and beautiful. They washed away my worries. They helped me take my mind off of my mother.  

 

I hated that feeling. I hated it because it was from him. 

 

It only made me despise him more.

 

Or so I thought.

 

-

 

Luhan and I fought a lot. 

 

When we were kids until we became teenagers. 

 

Our fights usually starts because of me. 

 

I’ve done a lot of horrible things to him. I’ve said a lot of hurtful words I didn’t mean. 

 

Luhan must have loved following me around, because even though I always hit him and pushed him roughly onto the ground, he could never leave me alone. Not even when I tell him to get the hell out of my life. 

 

And I hated how I took advantage of that. 

 

I hated how I thought that he would always be there no matter what I do to him. 

 

“Hunnie, I got you notes because you were sick.” 

 

I was horrible to him even when he took a lot of effort writing notes for me, only to see me toss it in the trash without hesitation. 

 

“I’ll do your homework, hunnie.” 

 

I was horrible when I decided to take advantage of his kindness and made him do almost all of my assignments. Sometimes, I would find him awake in the middle of the night finishing a pile of it.

 

He would even skip a meal. 

 

Just for me. 

 

“Aren’t you cold? Let’s go to sleep, hunnie.” 

 

He would rather be cold and get sick, than see me freezing out there waiting for my mother. 

 

“You forgot your umbrella again? Here, use mine. I’ll run.” 

 

He would rather get soaked in the rain, than let me go just because I didn’t wanna share anything with him. Not even an umbrella.

 

“Can I hang out with you and your friends, too?” 

 

He would rather get bullied, than worry about my whereabouts. 

 

That’s Luhan. 

 

He’s my brother. My mother adopted him when we were both 7. He was just a gullible boy who looked lost. He didn’t even know what was happening between me and my mother, but I have blamed him for everything that my mother did and failed to do for me. 

 

Luhan treated me better than how a brother should treat his brother or sister. He treated me like I was the only family he had left. Like I was special. 

 

I treated him nothing like that. 

 

-

 

“Happy 16th birthday, hunnie.” 

 

“What now? You have another stupid feather?” I clicked my tongue. 

 

He sighed. “Sehun, it’s not stupid. You didn’t throw away the feathers I gave you, right—“ 

 

“Whatever. Just leave,” I told him.

 

“It means faith and protection,” he added. 

 

“Tsk. Like I need it,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

 

Luhan smiled as he placed a feather on my study table. This time, it wasn’t wrapped with anything. “Sorry for barging in by the way,” he said, “the door was open. How was the party? Your friends are not sleeping over today?” 

 

I paused as I stared at the feather and then back to my laptop. “No, Bogum and the others got drunk so their parents came to pick them up. Wouldn’t want them vomitting in my room either.” 

 

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Was it fun?” 

 

“Sure it was.” 

 

“Did you like the cake?” He asked. Again.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

”Did you eat a lot?” Finally, he annoyed me.

 

I snapped, “Can y