I wait until the plane takes off and the attendants do the safety procedure, using the oxygen mask and showing how to put it on toddlers and everything. As soon as the button that says you can move around and turn on electronics switches on, I turn in my seat slightly so I’m facing Sehun. He’s staring ahead, focused on the headrest in front of him but something tells me he’s aware of my every move.

I take in a deep breath. “Okay, Sehun you seriously can’t expect-“

“Eunji, please be quiet! We’re trying to sleep,” Chanyeol whispers from the seats in front of us, and I sigh, rubbing my temples.

I won’t be surprised if every member s me asking Sehun what happened before I get him to spit out the truth.

I lean back in my seat, my eyes shut as I think of someway to force him to tell me, speaking or not.

An idea pops up and I grab a pen from my backpack along with a big pad of paper that I use for doodling when I’m bored. I flip to a fresh seat and scribble on the top:

What happened?

I want to write more, demand that I deserve an answer but I’m positive that’ll just irritate him and make him not want to tell me.

I hold the paper and pen out to him and put it on his lap, watching him. He looks down at it, his lips pulled back in a thin line. He shoots me a look before taking the paper and scrawling something beneath my words, holding it out for me.

Why do I have to tell you?

Good thing I’ve thought the answer to this thoroughly for a while now.

I took care of you. I put the makeup on your face, carried you from the alley to Super Junior’s dorm, helped your bruise, carried you to your dorm, stayed with you for I don’t know how long, and you better give me an answer or I’ll tell the managers and all the members what happened.

I try sounding threatening but hopefully he won’t realize that I have no intent whatsoever to tell anyone, whether he tells me or not.

His eyes soften as he reads what I wrote, and he sighs deeply and stares at the paper for awhile before bringing the pen to the paper, writing what seems to be an essay. After a few minutes of the only sounds being the pen scratching consistently against the paper and the muffled engines roaring outside, he passes the pad of paper back to me. I gulp, preparing myself for whatever it is, reading the words slowly to digest it all.

Okay, fine I’ll tell you. Only because you seemed to have a heart for once.

I roll my eyes, but just for a millisecond, immediately dragging my attention back to the paper.

I went out for a walk when I thought everyone was asleep because I don’t like traveling and it clears my mind. I went to a bar and got a beer because it helps get flying off my head and I hate the thought of flying. It’s scary and I don’t like it.

I was walking around after and I wasn’t drinking it much so that I wouldn’t get lost or anything. But I kind of got confused where I was and then the next thing I know, I’m being shoved down an alley by someone. And I couldn’t tell who it was because the alley was dark, like you saw and they punched me and smashed my beer bottle against my head. I tried to stop them but I couldn’t and they punched me again. They threw me against the wall and I just fell and tried acting like I was passed out so they’d stop hitting me. And they were about to leave but they walked back up to me and kicked me in the leg and punched me in the stomach and then they whispered, ‘Don’t interrupt our date next time.’

And I think you know who it was.

I stare at the words, my heart thumping against my chest.

I know exactly who it was.

My jaw drops slightly, and I stare at what he wrote, reading it over, and over, and over again until it sinks in that I’m indirectly at fault for this.

If I’d never come, I’d never have seen Daehyun again. I wouldn’t have gone to the mall with him. I wouldn’t have seen Sehun and Luhan, and I wouldn’t have momentarily left Daehyun to talk to them. And Daehyun wouldn’t have beaten Sehun up.

But should I believe Sehun? I haven’t known him nearly as long as I’ve known Daehyun. I used to trust Daehyun with my heart, he was my best friend, the only person I could talk to comfortably.

But for some reason, my mind is screaming at me to listen to Sehun.

And for some reason, I’m listening to my mind.

I look up slightly and turn my head, looking at Sehun. He’s staring at me, his eyes surprisingly mournful. Noticing that I can’t write anything, he takes the pen and paper from me, scrawling something down before handing it back. I slowly take it from him, my eyes flicking from word to word.

By the way, thank you for doing all that for me. I was kinda awake the whole time, and when I saw you in the alley, I thought you were going to leave me there… but instead you took care of me. And you also covered my marks, which I’m really thankful for. I didn’t really expect you to do all that. I thought you’d maybe drag me into our dorm and scream something like ‘this idiot is a retard and he was in a sketchy alley’ but instead you actually took care of me and helped me when I’ve been kind of a douche to you. I’ll try to be nicer because you’ve been nice to me.

My heart warms up as I read it, and I can’t help but let my lips tug up into a smile. I look up at him and he’s softly smiling at me, looking as if he’s forcing himself too. I smirk at the sight, his lips awkwardly pulled upwards in a slightly heartfelt smile. His eyebrows scrunch together while he maintains his smile and I let out a chuckle, his expression being too hilarious.

I scribble a small message down, passing it over to him.

At least you’re trying.

He scoffs but it transforms into a genuine smile and I lean back, satisfied yet irritated at the same time.

Satisfied that I’m on better terms with Sehun.

Satisfied that he explained why he was all mangled up in an alley.

Satisfied that he’s smiling. Genuinely smiling.

Irritated because it turns out my ex-best-friend-slash-ex-boyfriend caused this all.

I swear to , Daehyun.

The second I get back to Korea, you’re screwed and you better go run for a pothole to go live under.

After I hear your side of the story, of course.

Luhan’s POV

I end up sitting next to Kris, which is good because he falls asleep right away. That duizhang sure loves his sleep.

I don’t want to sleep though, and my eyes wander around. I’m across the aisle from Sehun and I want to bother him to entertain me, but he’s too busy laughing with Eunji.

And Lay’s in front of me, but-

Wait.

-he’s too busy laughing with Eunji.

Sehun doesn’t laugh.

Sehun doesn’t laugh with Eunji.

That’s not a thing.

I tilt across the aisle, my ears perked up as I try to see what they’re smiling about. His eyebrows are all knitted together and he’s smiling an awkwardly tight smile and she’s just laughing as they pass a pad of paper between each other. I lean over a teeny bit further and see a bunch of writing covering the paper, but I can’t make out any of the words.

I sit back in my seat, watching them rather than the movie being displayed as they keep the paper between them, drawing small doodles. He draws something and she laughs at it, Baekhyun in front of her turning around to shush them.

Sehun and Eunji smirk when Baekhyun turns back around, and Eunji leans back in her seat, Sehun continuing to draw what looks like a stick figure on the piece of paper.

Sehun leans back as well, the pad of paper on his lap as he busies himself with the drawing. Suddenly, Eunji’s head falls over onto his shoulder and he momentarily freezes, before turning his head to look at her. A lock of her hair falls in her face, and he gently curls it behind her ear, her cheek in the process.

A fire builds up inside me, a fire that I had no idea existed.

He gazes at her for I don’t know how long, the fire growing and growing until it’s about to burst out as he leans his head on hers, both of them sleeping soundly, using each other for comfort.

I still don’t understand why this hurts me so much.

Easy though, I’ll just tell Kai later on about what they’re doing. That’ll set him off. Especially since they’re the same age.

I lean back in my seat, rubbing my eyes.

Eunji…

Please remember me soon.

Will you like me more if you remember me?

Or will you hate my guts?

I honestly don’t care, I just want you to remember me. Of course, it’d be nicer if you’d like me more but… just, for now, please remember me.

And with that, the perfect idea pops in my head.