“You should definitely go.”

Kyung had barely made it into his bedroom before Jiho practically pounced on him. He took off his socks and tossed them in the corner, trying his best to ignore the other boy. But Jiho was persistent and followed the red-head with his eyes.

“ off. I don’t want to.”

“Why not? You never go out anymore. You aren’t the same guy you used to be. It’s starting to get a little pathetic.”

Why didn’t he shut up? Kyung had been trying his hardest to ignore Jiho, but the guy just didn’t seem to understand. He wanted to be alone in his own house for once without having to wonder when and where Jiho would show up unannounced.

He rummaged through his desk, pushing half-crumpled papers and empty food wrappings onto the already messy floor. Kyung pushed open his bathroom door and rummaged through the bathroom cupboard and tossed several empty prescription pill bottles over his shoulder. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

“You must really want me gone.” Jiho was standing at the bathroom entrance, his face betraying his disappointment as Kyung fumbled to open the bottle. “Is it such a bad thing that I’m here?”

“Yes, Jiho, it’s really terrible that you’re here, okay?” His tone was flat when he spoke.

“You used to be so fun to be around before you started wallowing in your own misery. Is this fun for you?”

“Nothing’s fun for me anymore, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s a shame. Does that fix it?” he asked, nodding towards the pills.

Kyung ignored him when the bottle finally popped open and a few of the pills slipped onto the floor. As they clattered onto the tile, Kyung’s blinked confusedly. He stared at the fallen medicine with a frown glued to his face. They were big and ugly and disgusting, like bugs scurrying away from a source of light. That’s exactly what it sounded like: the sound of a million insects crawling, crawling away from his feet and towards the bathroom sink.

“Kyung.”

The older boy blinked some more and gazed in Jiho’s direction, but he was looking past him like he wasn’t there. “Clean up the bugs later,” he said airily as he walked back into his room and collapsed on the bed. He waited for Jiho to say something else, but he didn’t speak. Maybe he was preoccupied, or maybe he decided to leave Kyung alone for a while like he’d asked. To him, it didn’t matter. The apartment was silent again.

Much later, the door to his bedroom opened, followed by a sharp intake of air. Kyung opened one eye then quickly closed it, praying to God that it wasn’t who he thought it was. The apartment had been so blissfully quiet, and he didn’t feel up for being disturbed again.

“Kyung-ah?”

A sigh of relief. The voice was female and, although it took him a moment to place it, it was soft and comforting. Park Saehim, Kyung’s sister, trudged her way into Kyung’s dirty room until she was next to his bed. “Are you all right? How long have you been in bed?”