sehun's abusing himself with cancer sticks, and jongin sleeps with anything that walks on two feet and operates with a heartbeat.

people had always dubbed them as the 'lost cause'. they hardly mind. they don't care. they had their cigars, and drinks, and typewriters with its wet ink, and stained sheets, and that's enough. they tell themselves it's enough. then after that, they turn over their beds when it's pitch black outside, and they murmur it's enough, it's enough along with the melody of the invisible crickets hiding in the dark.

sehun doesn't speak. jongin takes it upon himself to stuff the silence between them with stories of his youth and life in the same way a genius might fill in the blanks of an examination sheet.

sehun is queer and uses his typewriter to unleash powerful supernovas through his fingertips. jongin doesn't try to read them, even though his nerves are tangling upon itself just to reach those grainy papers containing the words sehun's never got to speak.

having sehun speak is such a rare occurance. so when he did, jonging toppled over the wooden stall and lied face down on the bed.

"I'm great at chess," sehun starts and before jongin can question anything, the younger grins. "because i'm making a move on you."

and jongin lets go of the laughter bubbling in the walls of his throat. he laughs because out of everything to say, sehun decides to utter a pick up line, and despite the absolutely horrific cheesiness, jongin might have sort of, could have blushed.

"you're a weird ."

"says the kid who gives out index cards to strangers on the street. like seriously, who the wouldn't find that disturbing?"

jongin doesn't reply. so sehun thinks that it's settled. he's a weird , and jongin an even weirder .

-------

they met in the campus, first talked outside jongin's dorm, explored each other's body in a beach nearby, and decided to get a place for themselves near the campus.

all they ever do is have , and be quiet whenever it's nine p.m. (you see, they both believed that there must be a time devoted for mythical creatures. sehun thinks that if you keep your mouth shut long enough, you might see the traces of the lost boy). and jongin, well, he doesn't question sehun. because he just sleeps and lives with him and love is completely out of the picture.

they both didn't believe in love, even though jongin keeps on splaterring kissing couples on canvasses, and sehun typing away words of affection on paper. for these two artists, love is nothing but an abstract idea that's commonly used for inspiration.

loveless, wreckless, careless and young, jongin and sehun sticks close to each other. they were like cigarettes and lighters in a way, theyre both dangerous, and could seriously kill once ignited together and used up long enough.

------------

breaking the ritual that they've silently established, sehun starts talking.

"are you google?" sehun would suddenly ask while jongin's busy forking food to his mouth. "because you got everything that i've been looking for."

"your dad must be a thief,because he stole the stars from the skies and put them in your eyes."

all these had tired jongin out. the only way that he could get sehun to shut up was to silence him with a kiss, make him moan, get him pizza, or threaten to throw his typewriter out of the window if he does as much as utter another pick up line.

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jongin once read that people turn to books because books gives reason for things. they have explanations, and it's not as mind boggling as real life. he finds out sehun's reasons one night when the younger's arm is draped lazily over his bare shoulders.

"jongin?"

"hmm," jongin timidly replies, knowing that something lengthy will follow.

"have you ever thought about leaving your mark in the world?--wait no. let me speak.it might seem crazy, but i sometimes worry about the idea of dying than death itself. maybe that's why i write. sometimes i wonder why i even write. i think it's got something to do with being forgotten."

jongin absentmindedly twirls a few strands of sehun's hair around his fingers. "someone once said that we die two times. the first one being our actual death, and the second one is when someone says your name for the last time. also, didn't one of your favorite authors say that the point isn't in living forever, but creating something that will?"

"god, you're so hot." sehun smiles, burying his face in jongin's chest. "i guess you're right."

"i am. you know, you already left footprints in my heart. i'm not trying to be cheesy, only you can pull it off. so remember that whenever you feel like dying or whenever you think you don't matter, you do to me. i'm not the king of england so what i feel probably doesn't mean much, but to me they do. i've got a mental wall filled with facts about you and a comfortable room in my heart where your memory could be, even if you aren't physically here anymore." he kisses the crown of sehun's head.

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19-02-13; man found dead. witnesses claim that he jumped off the ninth floor of the building. upon initial inspection, the police retrieved a note on his pocket. I'll be in that room, then."