Woohyun’s eyes widen as he watches Sunggyu fold up the paper in quick succession, into a square, a smaller square, and a smaller one.

A chilly silence hangs in the air as Woohyun stares at Sunggyu, who seems to be staring lasers into the very small square of paper, as though he is burning it with just the intensity of his stares.

“Sunggyu...?” The silence is scaring Woohyun— for someone who obviously likes to talk a lot, silence is his biggest enemy.

“Don’t.” 

The silence that lapses between Sunggyu’s last said word is even more haunting than ever. But this time, Woohyun learns to keep his silence— for the first time ever, he realises that his words kill, judging by the look on Sunggyu’s face.

“Don’t talk about cutting like it’s... it’s nothing.” 

Sunggyu abruptly pulls all his papers together, and his shirt sleeve falls back a little. But with that one inch of skin exposed; Woohyun can see a thin, scar line, the skin around the line a nasty, pale red. The wound doesn’t look fresh, but when Woohyun spots duplicates of the same line, he feels nauseated.

Just then, Sunggyu stands, and his sleeve falls back into place, pulling shut the curtains that hides his scars well.

And when he leaves, the realisation that Woohyun has single-handedly knocked down whichever bridges that he’s tried to build to get to Sunggyu, leaves an empty feeling at the bottom of his stomach.

Then something clicks, and Woohyun quickly stands, the scraping of his chair against the marbled tiles of the floor creating an unpleasant screech that makes him flinch. But that doesn’t stop him. 

He dodges shelves, knocking into several other students on his way out, but the moment he pushes the glass doors of the library open, he despairs.

It is too late.

The corridors are filled with bustling students, and Woohyun remembers that the time now is probably a few minutes after the start of their lunch break.

But then he spots a familiar shade of pink, and he starts making his way through the crowd, which is starting to disperse.

“Dongwoo!” He calls out, and the figure stiffens. After a good few seconds, Dongwoo turns.

“Oh hey, Woohyun,” a half-hearted smile is plastered on Dongwoo’s face. Woohyun calmly loops an arm across Dongwoo’s shoulders, and he can feel the boy stiffening up further.

“You seem to be avoiding me these days, huh? Are you guilty of something that I don’t know?” Woohyun starts off casually, shooting Dongwoo a small smile.

Dongwoo freezes.

But Dongwoo is fast to react. He quickly laughs it off, waving a hand in front of his face as though swatting an invisible fly. “Um, no! Hahaha, why would I keep anything from you? You’re my best friend—” 

“I heard you and that Kim Sunggyu were once very close,” Woohyun cuts in.

And then he witnesses what Myungsoo means by Dongwoo is an extremely sensitive person.

Woohyun doesn’t spot anything wrong at first, when Dongwoo starts to fan his face. Then Dongwoo starts wiping his eyes frantically. It doesn’t even take Woohyun any more words before the kid starts spluttering frightfully.

“It’s not me, I d-didn’t do it, all I did was t-tell Howon and h-honestly I had n-no idea he would...” 

Woohyun wordlessly puts two arms around him, rubbing circles on Dongwoo’s back. 

Dongwoo starts to sob, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. “I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry S-Sunggyu hyung, I was scared.” 

“I loved him too much, I c-couldn’t—” 

Dongwoo suddenly stops, and Woohyun looks up from his cycle of continuously rubbing circles on Dongwoo’s back to find his friend staring frightfully at something.

At someone.

He turns his head a little, and that’s exactly when the shade of red turns and starts running off.

Woohyun is tempted to run after him, but he’s holding his shaking friend in his arms, and he decides that maybe for this time, Dongwoo is more important.

But then again, since when is Sunggyu important to him?

__________________

“Here.” 

Woohyun passes Dongwoo a warm can of coffee, to which Dongwoo accepts graciously, rolling it from numb palm to numb palm.

They sit silently at the school’s bleachers, Woohyun occasionally shivering a little from the cold wind. He looks over to Dongwoo, who stares blankly into the space in front of them. When Dongwoo doesn’t seem to talk anytime soon, Woohyun opens his own can of warm coffee and is somewhat gracious for the hot liquid seeping down his freezing throat, no matter how much he doesn’t like the drink.

“I’m sorry for just now.” Dongwoo mutters softly, continuing his routine of rolling the warm coffee can against his freezing fingers. 

“It’s really okay,” Woohyun replies awkwardly. In all his years of knowing Dongwoo, the only moments when he sees his friend cry like this is during birthday parties.

Dongwoo puts down the unopened can of coffee, flexing his fingers. 

Both of them sit like that, the tense atmosphere loosening up, as they stare at the gradually greying sky. 

Half an hour passes in silence, until Dongwoo clears his throat. Woohyun’s attention is immediately on him, and the former looks away, trying to avoid Woohyun’s glance.

“Woohyun,” Dongwoo starts off, unsure. “Your impression of me won’t change even if I tell you anything, right?” 

Woohyun keeps silent. The request that Dongwoo just makes is near impossible. He knows that, and he doesn’t want to make a false promise. False promises are hard to keep.

Dongwoo lets out a hollow sigh. “Whatever happens, please, I didn’t mean it to turn out like this...” 

Woohyun doesn’t reply again. Usually, he’ll just say ‘I know’ even if he doesn’t know, but this time, Woohyun really doesn’t know.

A part of him honestly doesn’t want to know.

Dongwoo stands, and Woohyun’s gaze follows him as he straightens. Finally, Dongwoo turns towards him and gives him a small smile.

“You might want to get inside soon. Wouldn’t want to be dancing in the rain.” 

Woohyun nods, and somehow, he smiles back. When Dongwoo leaves, he looks back at the rapidly greying clouds. 

He stands, and is about to leave the bleaches when he spots Dongwoo’s unopened can of coffee. Woohyun picks it up and rolls it between his fingers.

Still warm.

Deciding not to waste the coffee and giving it to Sungyeol, Woohyun jumps down the bleaches, two at a time, and begins his walk to the dorms block. 

He chooses to take a rather long, and sheltered route, cutting around the back of the blocks.

Woohyun comes across an area that looks grassy and somewhat forested, due to the amount of trees and plants there. He almost passes the area without giving it a second glance when something shiny catches his eye.

He backtracks, and stops when he spots a rather old path leading to the inner part of his ‘forest’. Ignoring his begging instincts to just ignore it, Woohyun sets foot onto the gravel path.

And then he stops, in a deep breath.

An old swing sits in the middle of the ‘forest’, to which Woohyun realises is just moss growing on the wall, a few bushes here and there and maybe some trees at the side. The swing is painted a light silver, the paint peeling off at the sides.

Woohyun approaches the swing, an air of apprehension around him. He places the can of coffee on the ground, before carefully poking the swing, then giving it a light push. It moves, slowly at first, with a few scratchy creaks, but when Woohyun pushes it harder, the swing’s creaks get a little louder.

He stares at it for another five seconds, before getting in. Rocking himself gently, he ponders about Dongwoo’s words, the steady creaking of the swing marking out a slow rhythm and not bothering him at all.

I didn’t mean it to turn out like this...

“So what did you mean it to turn out like?” Woohyun mumbles absentmindedly, leaning back onto the swing, which creaks more under his weight. “How else could it have turned out?” 

His question isn’t much answered when a tiny drop of water splashes on the back of Woohyun’s hand. He looks at it for a moment, but when the second drop comes, he makes a run for it, reaching a shelter a few metres away.

Woohyun runs a hand through his partially wet hair, trying to dry it a little. After a few seconds of an incessant itch on his thigh, he realises that someone is calling him.

He pulls the vibrating phone out, suddenly remembering the abandoned can of coffee outside. Woohyun glances at the mercilessly pouring rain outside, before looking back at his phone.

He picks up the call, and is almost deafened when the caller starts yelling into his ear.

 “Hyung, where are you now?” 

Sungjong’s voice is hurried, but Woohyun, being the dense tree he is, doesn’t get the urgency in Sungjong’s voice.

“Somewhere. Why?”

“Hyung, come back to your dorm now. I need you to open the door.”

“Why?”

Woohyun can already imagine Sungjong taking a long, deep breath to prevent himself from really yelling at him, before Sungjong continues, “I’ll explain to you later. I just need you to come, now. Fast.”

“No. I won’t move until you tell me what happened.”

There is a short, silent pause before Sungjong speaks again, quickly. “Sunggyu hyung’s extremely upset. I’m scared he might do stupid things.”