A/N: Everyone seems to think this fic will end with Eunhae being happy, hm. What do you think will happen to Donghae? Think he's gonna live? Heh heh heh, we'll see. Like I said to some of you, accidents can cause spinal injuries, and spinal injuries can result in....... Death.

 c h a p t e r  e i g h t ; 

Perfection was a myth. It didn’t exist; not in the materialistic world, not in people, not in real life. He hated the word, because with it came some sort of pedestal that no one asked for, a step towards a fabricated nirvana that humankind seemed to worship for god knows what reason. He never understood why they did that, or why anyone would call another perfect—what did perfect mean anyway? Was a perfect person born and bred without flaws, entering and living in the world a blank slate, never once committing a mistake? Was a perfect person carved out of ceramic, moulded on a sculpting wheel by the nimble hands of a potter, strictly following a set of fixed dimensions in order to emerge as a beautiful sculpture without a hint of a defect? Or was a perfect person someone that materialised based on every other person’s wildest dreams, like a self-built robot whose parts were chipped in by the community with the purpose of serving and pleasing others? Which was it?

Whatever the case, he didn’t want to be described as perfect, so never call him that.

He was more than the labels people slapped across his wrists.

Growing up in lavish mansions surrounded by acres of well-maintained, grassy fields had its perks; first and foremost, one obviously wouldn’t have to worry about the lack of food on the table, or having to wear torn and tattered clothing out, ever. They wouldn’t have to fret over having enough coins to travel by the public bus when they wake up late for school, or getting caught in the rain on their way home, drenched and miserable and angry at themselves for forgetting an umbrella. There would always be a car waiting somewhere in the distance with a chauffeur in the front seat, hands on the steering wheel and a personal butler standing by the open door, waiting to greet them. Good afternoon, sir or madam, the butler would say, your parents are expecting you at home to discuss your future with you over tea. Something along those lines. Same ol’, same ol’. It was an easy life, it really was—well, for the most part. The future was certain, you’re promised a roof above your head, cars to take you around the country, first class flights on holiday… what else could you ask for?

A lot, Siwon had concluded. There was so much more that he could and wanted to ask for, and none of it had anything to do with the way he grew up, the money he’d inherit or the promise of a bright future that’d been laid out and decided for him from before he was even conceived. He knew he was rich, mad rich, and he was grateful for the comfort of life he had had growing up—privileges handed to him on a silver platter, he’d call it. Never once did he complain. He had no reason to, did he? A path had been laid out for him from the very beginning and all he had to do was walk it.

But this life was not for him, and he seemed to be the only one who believed that.

He hated it, he truly did. He hated how people associated him with the term perfect, because he knew he was far from it, and he was more than glad to be. What was it that made him seem perfect in the public eye? Well, for starters, he had the potential to go to Milan and pursue a career there if he really wanted to. He was handsome, very handsome; he had the toned build of a typical runway model, and his face was beautifully chiseled, as if he was born out of people’s desires. His skin was smooth and tan, his eyes almond-shaped and brown, and when he smiled, the whole world stilled, mesmerised by his ever-so-white teeth and deep dimples; a killer combo. Of course, none of this (apart from the toned body that he worked hard to achieve) was his credit to claim. He had a wonderful set of genes passed down from generation to generation. His family was beautiful, and so was he. That was really all there was to it.

Why else was he perfect? He was a gentleman. His mannerisms were tip-top, all thanks to the way his parents had raised him. Be polite, his mother had reminded him umpteen times, ruffling his hair. Smile more, even to those who serve you, his father had said upon realising the way seven-year-old Siwon blatantly ignored the butler as he climbed into the car. Treat people kindly, they’d both said before welcoming guests. These were among the many values his parents had groomed and instilled in him growing up, values that he would take with him to his grave. On top of these values, however, there were many, many things he’d learnt on his own growing up, like how to treat a lady, no, how to treat a man.

He first discovered that he was gay at the age of fifteen, when he realised the way he felt as he looked at his father’s client’s son across the dining table one fateful afternoon. He realised he was gay when he’d secretly asked his butler to fetch him several copies of men’s magazines at the age of seventeen, to ogle at the pictures and not to read whatever bull advice its writers had come up with. He realised he was gay at the age of twenty-three, when his father had introduced him to the daughter of a friend with the intention of marrying them off when they were older. Siwon had refused, and by the end of the argument, he had admitted that he liked men. It earned him two things—a slap across the face, and a “you’re a disgrace to the family.” Ironic, wasn’t it? His parents taught him all sorts of values growing up, but as soon as they found their son wasn’t what they wanted him to be, all values went out the window. That was when Siwon realised he didn’t want a part of this life. Not at all.

He couldn’t exactly break apart from it completely though. His ancestry was woven into his skin, so there was no escape for him. All he could do was attempt to live a normal life elsewhere, and it was difficult considering how he was often recognised as the heir to his father’s company. He detested that. He was more than just good looks, money and hand-me-downs, and he wanted people to know that. In order for people to do that, he had to leave the mansion and try his best to live as others would. He tried his best.

He took up an office job and paid little to no attention to the snide remarks spat by people who barely knew him, with their “isn’t he that rich, arrogant er” and “he thinks he’s all that just because he’s good-looking”... They didn’t know him, and it was obvious from the prejudice they had against him that they didn’t want to know him. There was no point arguing with people who weren’t willing to broaden their minds, anyway. Luckily for him, not everyone at the office was like them—there were nice people there too, like Jonghyun from the Logistics department, Kibum from Marketing, Seohyun from Accounting and Finance… and him.

“, sorry! Oh my god, I’m a ing idiot!”

Siwon smiled, flapping his coffee-stained dress shirt. “No, no, it’s okay! It’s just a shirt. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s a white shirt! God, I’m a klutz. I’ll make up for it, I swear. How much is it?”

“Huh?” Siwon said quizzically. “You really don’t have to. I can afford another shirt, don’t worry.”

“I know, but still. Just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean I should take advantage of that and be an . I’m the one who dirtied your shirt, so I’ll pay for it.”

Siwon pursed his lips. “So you know who I am?”

“Obviously. Siwon, rich bloke, tons of money yada yada… doesn’t matter. How much is the shirt?”

“What’s your name?” Siwon inquired, curious about the man standing in front of him.

“How is that relevant… Hyukjae. Lee Hyukjae. Now please, tell me how much the shirt costs.”

It was weird, wasn’t it? Siwon had met the blond (who, at the time, was a brunet) in the office he worked at. He found Hyukjae really interesting from the very beginning, seconds into Hyukjae tripping on his own feet and spilling an espresso all over him. He was clumsy, down-to-earth and extremely hardworking… not forgetting very, very attractive, and something about his personality drew Siwon to him. Maybe it was the way he spoke, gentle and caring, or how he smiled at him even on his worst days, making sure to spread joy to those around him regardless of how he felt. It wasn’t difficult for their personalities to click at all—Siwon was a man with a humble heart who was out in the world seeking a place where he belonged, and Hyukjae, equally as lost, was some sort of guiding light and almost humble… humbled by a different circumstance. Being friends came to them naturally; they both had a lot to learn from each other. Siwon learned about the trials and tribulations of Hyukjae’s life and how he picked himself up off the ground on his own after his mother’s passing, and Hyukjae learned about the life that Siwon had lived and wanted to discard, realising now that perhaps being born out of riches wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, and that he should be grateful, even if he didn’t have tons of cash or his own house or whatever. It didn’t matter that Siwon was twenty-four at the time, and Hyukjae twenty-two. Hyukjae was a little younger, yes, but he was so mature. Siwon wanted to know about him, and Hyukjae wanted to know more about him too.

“Interesting,” Hyukjae had remarked one evening over dinner. “So you spend your free time going to orphanages to help out and you give most of your money to charity.”

“Mm, yeah…” Siwon mumbled awkwardly from behind a mug. “I just… helping people is rewarding, y’know? And money… I could care less about money. It really means nothing to me. I mean, I’m grateful for being born with a silver spoon and all... until I realised how obsessed with money everyone around me was. I hated it. It’s not for me.”

“So is that why we’re sitting in a Michelin star restaurant at the top of a five star hotel? Because you… couldn’t care less about money?” Hyukjae teased, poking his fork into a piece of smoked salmon.

Siwon clicked his tongue. “I’m serious. And the reason I take you to all these places is because I don’t mind giving you treats, y’know? I just wanna exhaust all of the money I’ve inherited. That’s why I’m working at the office. I wanna earn my own money. Might as well treat some of my friends with a portion of the cash.”

“Giving me treats,” Hyukjae scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a dog.”

Siwon ruffled Hyukjae’s hair, beaming. “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna spoil you. Is that wrong?”

“Not at all, I guess.” Hyukjae grinned. “Might as well milk you of your money.”

“Hyukjae!”

“What? That’s what you wanted, no?”

“I—” Siwon sighed, nodding his head softly. “Yeah, yeah, milk my money dry. I’d rather spend it on you than to be the typical spendthrift people think I am.”

Hyukjae chewed on his food, frowning. “Why do people think so negatively of you?”

Siwon shrugged, placing his utensils on his plate. He interlaced his fingers, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Dunno, really. Guess it’s easier to hate me than to get to know me. To be honest, it can get really lonely. My family doesn’t care about me just because I’m not the straight son they wanted, people don’t care about me because they assume I’m some arrogant bastard that looks down on everyone.. I guess at this point I’ve kind of just… resigned to fate, y’know? It’s tiring wishing people would accept me for who I am.”

“Hey,” Hyukjae said gently, reaching a hand out to caress Siwon’s soothingly. “You have me. I accept you. I know we don’t really know each other well yet, but I promise I’ll accept everything about you, as long as you keep your values with you and continue doing good. You have a pure heart, Siwon.”

“Means a lot to me,” Siwon mumbled, looking down. “Really does.”

Hyukjae grinned. “You’ll never feel alone with me around. I won’t let you feel alone.”

True enough. As the months passed, Siwon learned Hyukjae’s character in and out—there was a depth to his personality that made him very endearing. Hyukjae was so accepting, never judgmental. He had a heart of gold and most definitely did all he could to remind Siwon he wasn’t alone in this; that he was there rooting for Siwon, even if he was his only supporter. And Siwon was more than grateful. At first, he was, unlike what people thought of him, extremely terrified of being out in the world alone, but with Hyukjae around, he started to ease into the life he’d chosen to lead and embrace all that came his way, good or bad. Hyukjae was beginning to rub off on him.

There came a day where Siwon went off the grid for a few weeks. He missed work, didn’t answer texts and calls, and just generally disappeared off the face of the planet. It worried Hyukjae. Siwon was never the type to play truant, or carelessly avoid people. He decided to go to Siwon’s apartment to check on him, and till this day, he was glad he did. He rapped on the door once, twice, several hundred times until the lock unlatched.

“Siwon,” he greeted as he stepped into the house, kicking his shoes off and shedding his winter jacket as Siwon closed the door behind them. The house was in pitch black darkness, the curtains were drawn and he couldn’t really see anything past the television. He fumbled about in the dark, reaching for the light switch. As soon as the ceiling light flickered, he turned around to look at his friend. He gasped.

“Oh my god, Siwon, what happened to you?”

Siwon was pale, and his cheeks were sunken in. Dark eye circles ran the perimeter of his eyes, and he’d left his face unshaven, stubble clear as day. His hair was in a mess, which was fitting. His life was in a mess.

“What’s wrong, Si—”

“Winter,” Siwon said huskily. “Winter.”

Hyukjae frowned. “What do you mean?”

Siwon gestured towards the counter, face blank. On the counter sat several aluminium foil strips and bottles; pills, pills, pills. Pills everywhere. Hyukjae wasn’t sure he knew what was happening and he didn’t want to assume, so he turned to Siwon, chewing on his lip.

“Are you sick?” He asked innocently, returning his attention to the countertop.

“Yes,” Siwon answered softly, holding Hyukjae’s hand and leading him towards the sofa. “Very.”

Siwon sat down, watching as Hyukjae walked towards the curtains to push them apart. Sunlight the living room yellow and white; colours that hadn’t painted the house in weeks. Siwon avoided gazing at the window. Hyukjae returned to his side, placing his bag on the carpet before looking at his friend.

“What are you ill with, Siwon?” He asked, wide-eyed and sad. He wished he’d realised this sooner. He would’ve visited him earlier had he known.

“Depression.” Siwon deadpanned. “It’s winter.”

“What does winter have to…” Then a moment of realisation hit Hyukjae like a brick. “...oh. Seasonal depression? Is that it? Is that why you’ve been missing work?”

Siwon couldn’t bring himself to say anything, so he didn’t. He wanted to keep silent but his eyes, nose and mouth betrayed him. He let soft sobs loose, looking at his lap as tears dropped, staining his grey shorts. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he’d be able to calm down, but he’d kept things to himself for too long. He couldn’t help it. He cried, long and hard, covering his face because he was ashamed of himself. He didn’t want anyone, and most definitely not Hyukjae, to see him like this. No one knew him as this vulnerable, ill person. He was the rich, arrogant prick with an easy life to everyone else—everyone but Hyukjae, and a few of their colleagues. Life really was as Siwon had described it for him. Lonely. Siwon felt so, so lonely.

“Shhhh,” Hyukjae cooed, wrapping his arms around the man. Truth be told, he never thought of Siwon as someone this vulnerable either. It made this all the more heart wrenching, considering that he too, had some sort of in-built misconception about his friend. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You don’t have to be afraid. You’re not alone. I promised you I won’t let you feel alone, didn’t I? I meant it.”

Siwon continued to cry, saliva and tears and snot staining Hyukjae’s T-shirt as he pressed his face into the crook of the man’s shoulder. It had been so long since he last felt the warmth of a person, that someone actually cared about him. His heart was torn and empty, and no one knew about it except Hyukjae. If Hyukjae hadn’t come over to check on him, he wouldn’t have known it either. Siwon was a master of disguise.

When Siwon’s cries began to die down, Hyukjae pulled away, holding onto the man’s broad shoulders. He wiped his tears away, and smiled gently, caring little to none about the fact that Siwon wasn’t looking into his eyes at all. Hyukjae knew. He knew how it felt to be left alone in the dark, both literally and figuratively. To be left in the dark physically was terrifying enough, but to be left in the dark in one’s mind? There was no fear like it. Hyukjae knew this all too well.

“You’re not alone, Siwon. I’m here. I always will be.” Hyukjae said affectionately, ruffling the tall man’s hair. “I understand. Winter makes things worse. I wish you’d told me sooner, y’know… that you have depression. I’d never let you out of my sight if I knew.”

“Embarrassed.” Siwon croaked.

Hyukjae quirked a brow. “Embarrassed? What is there to be embarrassed about?” He pulled Siwon into his arms again, his nape as he continued to coo. Siwon was whimpering into his shoulder again, body jerking with every cry he let loose. “I understand, Siwon. I really do. And I promise you, I will never judge you, so there’s no need to feel embarrassed at all.”

Siwon sat up, breathing erratically but making an effort to gain control over it.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered in between sobs. “I’ve never had to go through all of this away from home. I didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t bring myself to go to work. Shower. Eat.”

“You haven’t been eating?!” Hyukjae exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. “No, not on my watch. I’m gonna cook something for you. Just you wait.”

“There’s nothing in the fridge.”

“Then we’ll go grocery shopping.”

“I don’t wanna go out.”

“I—okay, Siwon. We’ll order takeaway then, but promise me you’ll eat.” Hyukjae pouted, holding his pinky out.

Siwon didn’t even hesitate to wrap his around Hyukjae’s. “Why are you so nice to me?”

Hyukjae curled his plump lips into a small smile, patting Siwon on the head.

“Because you deserve it,” he said cheerfully, combing his fingers through the man’s hair. “You’re a good person, and you deserve to be treated as such.”

“But you—”

“Shhh. Don’t say anything. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re well enough to be on your own,” Hyukjae said firmly. He walked over to the fridge and yanked the door open, frowning at the fact that, as Siwon had said, there really was nothing in the fridge. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Look, I know you don’t wanna head out, but I really wanna restock your fridge. How should I—wait. I know. Donghae.”

“Huh?”

“Donghae,” Hyukjae repeated. “He’s my best friend. I live with him, and I’m about to use him to get you groceries.” He laughed, walking towards his bag to grab his phone. “In fact, y’know what? How ‘bout you come live with Donghae and I until you feel better?”

“But D-donghae… it’s not fair to him. I’m a stranger. What if he minds?” Siwon asked, panicking.

Hyukjae grinned. “He won’t mind. He’ll understand, so don’t worry about that. He’s just like me—never judging others. He’s childish, let me warn you in advance, but he’s very, very kind. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Why can’t I just stay here?”

Hyukjae shook his head. “If you stay here, you’ll be alone most of the time and I don’t want that. If you stay at my place, there’ll always be someone around. Donghae’s mostly at home except on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays—that’s when he has school. I don’t work on those days, remember?”

Siwon paused, contemplating the suggestion.

“Think about it,” Hyukjae said, smiling. “Meanwhile, I’m gonna call him. You’ll get to meet him when he comes here lugging all the groceries we need for your fridge. I promise you, he’s a loveable little . That’s why he’s my best friend and I love him very mu—don’t tell him I said that.”

For the first time in weeks, Siwon laughed. “I won’t tell him.”

“Good. Gimme a minute.”

Hyukjae never changed in the years to come. He was always so kind and understanding, so gentle, so loving... He never forgot to check on his friend, or make sure he was eating… He was the epitome of a perfect friend. Sure, Siwon hated the word perfect, but he couldn’t find a better word to describe Hyukjae.

Hyukjae was perfect.

Could you blame him for falling in love with Hyukjae five years later?

“He isn’t going to die, Hyukjae, I promise.”

Siwon said frantically, one hand on the steering wheel as the other Hyukjae’s lap back and forth in a bid to pacify him. Hyukjae was hysterical, heaving deeply as tears streamed down his face, staining his white T-shirt with mixtures of blood and water. He stared at the dried blood on his hands and wrists, completely mortified at the thought of his best friend getting wheeled into the Emergency Room, unconscious and bleeding from his mouth and gashes and cuts all over his body and possibly… leaving him. Hyukjae had woken up that morning to the sight of Donghae rolled onto his side, body limp and contorted with a blood soaked dress shirt. He was grimacing, clearly in pain, and Hyukjae struggled to make sense of it all. Donghae? He called out as he rubbed gunk out of his eyes. The moment his eyesight had come into focus, he screamed. Donghae! Donghae, wake up! Oh my god, Donghae! Donghae, please! Hyukjae had yelled desperately, shaking his best friend but to no avail. He shouldn’t have done that, really. Wouldn’t want to worsen a spinal injury now, would he? Too late.

Hyukjae couldn’t think clearly. Sure, one’s first instinct during such a circumstance should’ve been to ring up an ambulance, but the blond was so distraught that he decided to call Siwon instead. Siwon! Siwon, please, come here! I—Donghae, Siwon! Donghae’s bleeding out, I—he’s dying, Siwon, help! Please! I can’t lose him, Siwon, I can’t! I love him! He can’t leave me! I love him, I love him, god, please! Siwon come here! I can’t do this alone! Thank goodness Siwon had the mind to call the ambulance as he drove towards Donghae’s place as quickly as he could, maneuvering through traffic like he’d been taught to drive like a Formula 1 racer. He burst through the door to the sight of Hyukjae holding his best friend’s hand, running his fingers through his hair as he kneeled next to his lifeless body. Hyukjae’s body was racking with pain and anguish as he cried out his best friend’s name repeatedly, praying for his life aloud in spurts of saliva. Siwon looked around, wondering if the condition of the house would give him a clue of how or why Donghae had ended up on the floor next to the sofa in such bad condition. Maybe he’d find bloody handprints or footprints all over the walls or floors or some sort of weapon he’d used for self-defence or—there it was. He spotted it. He walked over to the divider and picked it up, turning it in his hand. A cracked helmet.

The ambulance only arrived twenty minutes later. It was beyond late, and frankly Siwon was miffed, but what mattered was that it was there in time to take Donghae to the hospital. “Motorbike accident,” Siwon had said simply to the paramedics. He had to pry Hyukjae’s fingers off Donghae and pull him onto his feet, dragging him aside as the paramedics rolled Donghae onto an orange spinal board, strapping him onto the stretcher to take him to the ambulance as swiftly as they could. One of the paramedics had asked if Hyukjae wanted to sit in the vehicle with Donghae, but the blond had refused, terrified and panic-stricken. He dug his fingers into Siwon’s arms and shook his head, frenzied and begging Siwon to tail the ambulance as closely as he could. As soon as they’d gotten into the car and buckled their seatbelts, Hyukjae lost it, breaking out into a full-blown panic attack. He clawed at his chest, panting like he was an acrophobic thrown off a bungee-jumping platform, crying his heart out. He couldn’t stop calling out his best friend’s name, writhing about in his seat as his chest rose and fell in sync with his erratic breathing. The tips of his fingers and lips had begun to tingle from the lack of oxygen.

“Hyukjae, breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. Count to ten, slow your breathing and count backwards,” Siwon said calmly, squeezing the blond’s lap. “He’s going to be okay, Hyukjae. Donghae is going to be okay.”

Hyukjae couldn’t seem to take charge of the way he respired at all. “You d-don’t understand S-siwon. I don’t have a m-mother or father to go h-home to. I don’t h-have a family! He’s all I h-have! I can’t lose h-him! I c-can’t!”

“I know, Hyukjae, I know… I understand. We’ll get to the hospital as quickly as we can, and once the doctors let us in, we’ll sit by his side until he’s better, okay?” Siwon said softly, caressing the blond’s cheek. “Donghae’s strong. He’ll be alright. You and I both know that.”

Hyukjae pressed the side of his head against the window, grimacing as his entire body shook. Every crease etched into his features screamed I need him to stay, and he just couldn’t help it. He needed the man. He really, really needed him. He was family to him—he was home, a home he never wanted to leave. Besides, Hyukjae had no one else to run to; Donghae knew him by heart, and they loved each other as best friends so, so much, so he shuddered wondering what would happen if Donghae were to… die.

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Hyukjae asked quietly. His voice was so airy it seemed as if his body was hollow.

Siwon shook his head, turning the steering wheel to change lanes. “Don’t think about that, Hyukjae. Don’t put yourself through that. Your mind is making you paranoid, so don’t give in to it. We’ll reach the hospital and wait for the doctor to tell us he’s okay. We’ll see him as soon as we’re given the green light, alright? If you want Donghae to be okay, then you have to be strong for him. It’ll break his heart if he finds out how frantic and worried you’ve been.”

“He’ll be okay,’ Hyukjae said huskily.

Siwon squeezed his lap. “Yes, he will.”

“Donghae will be fine.”

“Definitely. He’ll wake up, and he’ll see you. The first thing he’ll do is to smile at you, so remember to smile back, alright? If you’re sad, he’ll be sad too, Hyukjae. He’s counting on you.”

Hyukjae slid his hand over his lap to latch onto Siwon’s. “He’s counting on me.”

“Yes, Hyukjae, he is.”

“He’s okay.”

“He is, I promise.”

Hyukjae slid in his seat, closing his eyes as the ghosts of his sobs continued to rack his body. At the v