“I can’t sleep, hyung."

It was sad just how accustomed Minseok had grown to those words, sad how their garbled mix of mandarin and korean actually made sense to them, sad just how they had found themselves clinging to each other for a false sense of protection. It hurt for those words to hang unsaid in the cool night air, those three simple words that never climbed out of their throats because of a fear of rejection. A fear of being unloved, even if deep down in their fragile hearts, they knew that love was inevitable. No, the apprehension of it all had silenced the useless wails of their subconscious trying to alert them, left them in a cycle of giving and receiving with few words. That was the cruel truth of the broken relationship between Minseok and Zitao, and it seemed that nothing could truly repair such a fractured dream. Nothing but a few words left unsaid.

‘I love you.’