He couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do. It was when he was alone for more than three quarters of the day that Kibum realized that he never spent more time than he had to away from Kim Jonghyun. It was when he still felt the hollow empty, white vastness of his bed that he realized he never bothered with pillows, Jonghyun's chest was soft enough. It was when he saw the stylish, polished exterior of his dining room and found it inadequate wihtout the cook-who-could-cook-nothing-but-eggs delicious> even when it felt like years had gone by in that same blue moment.

Sinking into a chair to fill his stomach with some cereal, Kibum wondered if this was what being in limbo felt like. Black. White. Soft. Sandy. Detached. Really?

"I can't be bothered, not hungry" he mumbled to himself and went up the stairs, logging into his computer and trying to to distract himself with random methods of self destruction when he came across the gun. He started reading about exactly how it works and realized that there really wasn't that much to it.

You just pull the little black trigger and BOOM! Red everywhere.

For a while, he began to relish the thought of killing himslef. But....

He ran, the salty water from his eyes streaming down his soot-covered face, leaving trails of pale skin to be seen. He couldn't see where he was going, but he wasn't going to let his bare feet clad in grey socks take any rest. He didn't know how far he had run, didn't know how far he would run, but he didn't stop, because he couldn't take it anymore.

ANd next to him, Kim Kibum didn't stop running either.

They both crept into a small dark hole in a small dark building in in a small dark street. The little silver lights were dimmed in the dark blue haze that was the sky, as if they were sharing in his pain.

Kibum held Jonghyun's face in his hands, wiping away the tears from the older's face and smudging his own smooth skin with black as he impatiently rubbed at his own leaking eyes.

"He came after me again," the older boy said as he relaxed in Kibum's arms. For an eleven year old boy, Kibum was soft and petite and pearly white, unlike the other sunburnt rowdy boys in his grade. He was soft only with Jonghyun, though. So soft, so nice, so caring. That was the real Kim Kibum, whom no one except Kim Jonghyun had got to by breaking his hard exoskeleton.

Kibum tried not to cry harder as he thought of this boy's evil stepfather, completely deranged mother and never present sister, who made up the worst kind of family possible, especially for a sweet boy like Jonghyun. Even when Jonghyun worked really hard and got straight 100's, his parents didn't give a flying damn. EVen when he quit rugby, which he used to love with all of his pure white heart, and started hating it for show because his parents didn't like it, they still weren't satisfied. So when he just did what they asked instead of going to extremes to please them, his parents went blue with pissed-off-ness and had recently started to physically hurt him.

"I ran into t-the f-fireplace, and he was t-too fat to-to follow m-me so he- he picked up the fire poking thing and--" Kibum didn't let him finish. He hugged the older boy close to him, unable to stem the tears falling from both his and his best friend's eyes.

"Shh, Jonghie. It'll be alright soon. I promise. You can stay at my house. Appa is working tonight and umma definitely won't mind. Besides, halmeoni will be there. SHe always makes everything better, right?"

Jonghyun just nodded. Ever since he was seven and Kibum was six, the brghtly coloured house with the kind, peach coloured grandmother and the absent-but-still-there parents had been more of a home than anywhere else. Kibum's purple room with the pink and black sofa, striped like a zebra had been his bed more times that the rickety one back where he lived with his parents, and enveloped between the pale cream of Kibum's sunflower scented arms and the starlight scented bright coloured bedsheets had been refuge to Kim Jonghyun more times than he could count even if he lived to be a million years old. Or even three million years old. And if he could have decided these kind of things, he would choose to die rght now, blanketed in the warm hues of rosy pinks and fluffy blues and cheery yellows that came with the happiness of being in Kim Kibum's arms.

Kibum wondered why he remembered what Jonghyun had said that day, word for word.

Oh yeah. Because he repeated them in his head on too many occasions numbers of which he wouldn't care to think of right now.

No, killing himslef wasn't an option. If he committed suicide, his spirit would just hang around for the rest of eternity while Jonghyun died a happy man with children and grandchildren and was reborn as a golden angel in Heaven.

Then they would never be together again.

When the depressing grey cloud that hung persistently over his inner vision began to dissipitate little by little, an idea began to hatch in the mind of Kim Kibum....

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OH KEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS?! ANd this chapter is specially dedicated to... true B2UTYwithin because she just happens to be one of my most favourite authors EVAAAAAAR! :D And next chapter, I hope I make you cry FOR REAL! MWAHAHA *coughcough* HAHAHAH~!