pairing: hunhan.
word count: 6900.
rating: pg-13.
genre: angst. super angst. more angst.
warning(s): character death. mentions of suicide. mentions of abuse. read with caution.
summary: luhan becomes the one thing that keeps sehun afloat in the murky waters of the sea of sadness he's drowning in.

---

The first time Sehun sees the boy is on the night where his father finally leaves for good. It's not much of a surprise, his father walking out on them. In fact, it's been a long time coming. He's been threatening to leave during each and every one of their constant fights, but this time he actually does it. This time he actually gets up and walks away from it all.

From the confines of his room, Sehun listens. He listens to the yelling and the sounds of items being thrown around along with the hateful words his parents fling at each other in bulk, and he's struggling to contain the fat tears about to spill. Even though this is far from the first time it has happened, it hasn't gotten easier for Sehun to handle hearing them going at it like this.

Whenever these fights happen – which they have more and more frequently as of late – he always wonders to himself if this is somehow all his fault, if he's the reason why they're always arguing about everything, the cause of their unhappiness. He knows he wasn't planned. He has seen pictures from before they had him, and they seemed so happy together back then, but now it's... this. Always this. Always fighting, always screaming, always crying. It's as if they're at war with each other, and it feels like he's to blame for it all.

The sudden slam of the front door is like a canon going off, and the silence that comes after is so deafening, Sehun is almost scared to as much as even take a breath for fear of disturbing the temporary peace that has fallen upon the house. It all comes crashing down on him with his mother's quiet sobs coming from the kitchen. Sehun can easily picture her, sitting by the dinner table, crying. He knows this scene well, has witnessed it firsthand on prior occasions.

(Last time he had attempted to comfort her after another one of their fights – a particularly ugly one that time around – he got a set of knuckle-shaped bruises printed across his sternum in return for his effort. Needless to say, he now knows better than to try that again.)

Sehun's fists clench on the windowsill he's leaning against. He squeezes his burning eyes shut in a vain attempt at keeping the oncoming tears at bay, and like so often before, he thinks that it would be so easy. It would be so easy for him to slide the window open, crawl through it and just... let go. Just jump. He wonders how long it would take for him to make the drop, what his body would sound like slamming against the pavement, if the fall would actually kill him as intended or just leave him crippled. It would be so easy to end it all, just like this.

Determination takes a hold of him, and he nods to himself. This is it. He's going to do it. With unsteady hands, he manages to open the window. A gust of air slams against his face, but it's fear rather than the cold that makes him tremble, and his fingers cramp up from clutching the window frame so tightly as he leans forward to peer over the edge. The ground is more than two hundred feet below, the concrete like a dark abyss waiting to break him, and he finds it scary, but it seems to call out for him. He takes a deep breath. Yes. He's going to do it. This time he's going to end it.

A narrow alleyway separates this apartment complex from the next, and the distance between the two buildings is so small that Sehun would be able to look right into the home of the people living directly across from him. Most of them time he keeps his eyes to himself, feeling like it would be a breech of their privacy for him to as much as glance in there. He's not a voyeur, and he would hate for them to catch him looking, so he usually doesn't. But today, for some reason, something compels him to do it, so he lifts his head and...

There's a boy. There's a boy in the window, watching Sehun with wide eyes. He appears to be around Sehun's age, possibly a little younger, and his face is so pretty, Sehun could've easily mistaken him for a girl if it wasn't for his short-cropped hair and overall boyish physique. It's strange. Sehun has lived here almost his entire life, and he has never seen a boy in that room, not even the few times he caught accidental (or intentional whenever his curiosity got the best of him) glimpses of the tenants living in the apartment across from his. Yet there he is, a boy in the flesh, and he's staring right at Sehun, who stares back in surprise.

For a while they both just stand there. Every previous thought and intention have been erased from Sehun's mind, and taking their place is a slew of curious questions. He's not even fazed by the tears that have overcome his valiant effort of holding them back and are now rolling down his cheeks. All he can think about is the boy. Who is he? What is he doing there? Why has Sehun never seen him before? Did he move in recently?

It all ends when the boy's lips curve into a small smile as he raises his hand in a wave. The action rips Sehun out of his stupor, and he promptly shuts the window, closes the curtains and proceeds to bury himself under the covers of his bed, his face heating up. A new batch of tears spring forward in his eyes, tears of anger and embarrassment. No one was supposed to see him like that. No one was supposed to stop him. .

 

Sehun's father doesn't come back. He's still gone in the morning when Sehun leaves for school, and when Sehun comes home at night, the apartment is dark save for the lonely light above the kitchen table where his mother sits, face buried in the palms of her pale, slender hands. She's quiet. She's not crying. She just sits there, completely still.

Anxious, Sehun clenches the straps of his book bag tight enough for his knuckles to turn white as he approaches her with caution. He purposely stays just out of her reach. “Mom?” Even when Sehun calls out for her, she still doesn't move a muscle. He dares take another step closer, and that is when the harsh smell of liquor hits him, followed by an instant wave of nausea strong enough to set off his gag reflex. He swallows thickly. “Mom.” Not again.

“What do you want?” She doesn't sound sad or angry or anything of the sort, just very, very exhausted. That doesn't make Sehun feel more at ease, though, quite the contrary. Her lack of palpable emotion means he won't know what to expect from her.

“What's going on?” he asks with careful words.

His mother lets out a noise that could be a laugh or a sob or somewhere in between, Sehun isn't sure. Then she drags her hands slowly down her face and looks at him with eyes that can't seem to focus properly in her inebriated state. “That er ing walked out on me,” she slurs. “He walked out and... and ing abandoned me here, with you.”

There must be indents in Sehun's skin from how deep his nails are digging into his palms now. He feels like he's going to throw up all over the floor. “D-dad's not coming back?”

“Are you deaf or just ing stupid?” His mother scoffs. “No wonder your father ing left.” She gets up on unsteady legs. Sehun automatically takes a step backwards, casting a quick glance behind himself to make sure the exit is easily accessible in case it should become necessary to make a run for it. His mother doesn't pay him any attention, though, she just heads for the fridge to grab a beer. Half of it is gone with only a few gulps, and she slams the bottle down on the kitchen counter, which she then leans against, head hanging.

Sehun swallows again. “I'm... I'm sorry,” he manages to whisper, words catching in his still clogged up throat. “I'm sorry. Mom, please, I...” He goes quiet and holds his breath as her grip on the edge of the counter grows tighter and tighter. Sehun can feel his pulse in his throat, hammering like the erratic heartbeat of a scared rabbit, and even though his mother isn't looking at him, he doesn't take his eyes off her. He doesn't dare.

Eventually, her hold is tight enough to make her hands shake with exertion. Sehun is sure she's going to snap at any second, he's already preparing for the worst. But then she lets go. “Get the out of here,” she mutters without looking at him, picking the beer back up. “I don't want to see your ing face right now.” Her voice is quiet and deceptively calm, but her tone clearly says that it would be better for Sehun if he complied. So he does.

Darkness lingers long after Sehun has shut the door behind himself, and for a long time he just stands there in the lightless room, staring at absolutely nothing. On the other side of the door, he can hear his mother stumbling about in the apartment, once in a while cursing out loud whenever she bumps into a piece of furniture or knocks something over. And then the front door rattles open and slams closed and everything is dead silent, like Sehun's suddenly under water.

He doesn't realize that his eyes have welled up until they spill over and tears start trickling down his face. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, feeling a bitter sting in his gut. His father always told him that real boys don't cry, and of course that had only made Sehun cry even harder every time. Like the ing disappointment he is. “No wonder he left,” he murmurs to himself. He's such a ing crybaby. “Stop crying. Stop ing crying.”

Despite his attempts to stop the tears, they keep coming, a steady stream of droplets pouring from his eyes, and he keeps rubbing at his cheeks over and over and over until the skin starts going raw from the friction. Annoyed, he makes his way towards his desk to find the box of tissues he knows he keeps there. He promptly forgets all about that, however, when he just so happens to look out the window and sees that boy, the same boy as last time, looking right at him from the apartment on the other side of the alley. He's sitting there by the window of his own room, just staring, and like last time, he ing waves.

Anger boils up in Sehun, originating in his stomach like a low simmer and slowly climbing up the inside of his ribcage until it threatens to spill from his mouth like vicious vipers slithering through his cracked lips. He's so angry. Angry with the boy for staring at him like that (who the does he think he is? Does he know nothing of personal boundaries?), but most of all he's angry with himself for being so ing pathetic, crying for other people to see.

His hands are trembling with agitation as he grabs a piece of paper and a pen from his desk, and with big, blocky letters, he writes: WHAT??? He slams the paper up against the window, glowering at the boy in what he hopes comes across as a hostile manner. He's probably not very intimidating, though, considering he's basically snorting back his own snot at the moment.

The boy's eyes go wide as he reads the note. He looks like a ing deer caught in the headlights. After a quick glance at Sehun's face, he disappears, and Sehun draws a breath of relief, figuring (hoping) that he managed to successfully scare him off. Unfortunately, it only takes a moment before the boy is back, now holding a notepad and a pen of his own. He writes a message, hand flying swiftly over the paper, and then he holds it up for Sehun to see. Are you okay?

If Sehun wasn't so angry, he would laugh at the sheer absurdity of the question. He flips his paper over, writes, slams it against the window again. do i in look okay? He gestures at his own face, the blotches on his skin, his bloodshot eyes, the drying streaks of tears on his cheeks. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he looks like right now. The boy reads the message, then looks at him, shaking his head. Sehun sneers. He writes again. what do you want?

Do you want to talk about it? The look on the boy's face is so earnest, so pleading, like he's practically begging Sehun to let him help whichever way he can.

Sehun grabs another piece of paper from the haphazard mess on his desk. not really.

Across from him, the boy's shoulders slump in resignation, but he quickly picks his notebook back up. There's a determined set to his features as he writes. Do you want to talk about something else then? Sehun stares at him, expression remaining icy. He's having a hard time understanding what this guy's deal is. What does he even want? Why does he even bother? The boy seems to take his lack of reaction as a sign for him to continue. My name's Luhan, what's yours?

Sehun keeps staring, but now the boy, Luhan, is staring right back at him, resolute. And Sehun just... gives up. He's too exhausted for this. Heaving a heavy sigh, he drags his desk chair over to the window, plops down on it and takes another piece of paper to write: I'm sehun.

Through notes, Sehun learns that Luhan is more of a man than a boy. He's actually four years older than Sehun despite his youthful looks (he pouts when Sehun tells him he looks like a middle schooler, and Sehun is forced to fight back a smile along with unwelcome thoughts of how cute Luhan is). Sehun also learns that Luhan loves football and Korean music, that he's originally from Beijing, and that he moved to Seoul not too long ago after his parents sent him here to live with his aunt and uncle. He doesn't say anything about why they suddenly decided to make him move to another country. Sehun doesn't pry.

When Luhan asks him to tell him something about himself in return, Sehun talks about his classes and his best friend Zitao, who just so happens to be Chinese as well, and how his dream is to become an entertainer even though he knows he's not very likely to succeed in that. He doesn't tell Luhan that he despises the majority of his classes, that Zitao is literally his only friend out of the entire school's population, that all the other kids either shove him around or treat him like he doesn't exist, and he definitely does not talk about the situation with his parents. Only shallows facts and light conversation. The deep waters are dangerous.

It's not until Luhan's eyes start to droop that Sehun realizes they've been at it for hours without him noticing. Luhan looks about halfway asleep in his chair already, and at the look of Sehun's worried expression, he sits upright to scribble a quick apology: Sorry, I get tired quickly these days

no, sorry for keeping you up for so long. you probably have important stuff to do tomorrow. Something flashes over Luhan's face, but it's so brief Sehun doesn't get a chance to home in on it or even properly register it before it's gone. He brushes it off. It's probably nothing. go to bed. get some rest.

Luhan nods sluggishly and reaches for the notepad one last time. I'll talk to you tomorrow? Sehun waves at Luhan, who waves back. Then the curtains are closed, a few minutes later the lights go out, and once more Sehun is left with nothing but darkness as company.

Sehun crawls into bed, sprawling out on his back and staring up into the ceiling. There's a massive pile of homework waiting to be completed in his backpack, which he hasn't touched at all since he let it drop to the floor earlier, but all he can think about at the moment is doe eyes and pretty lips. He wonders what Luhan's voice sounds like.

 

The curtains are still closed when Sehun gets out of bed the next morning, and he finds that he's slightly disappointed about that. It would have been nice if he could've seen Luhan before going to school, even if just for a few minutes. He supposes it'll have to wait.

The rest of the day happens just like Sehun had expected, neither better nor worse. He gets pushed around by other students claiming he was in their way (he never has it in him to argue, especially not when he's by himself and Zitao isn't there to back him up), he spends hours after school studying in the library until it closes, and he comes home to find his mother fast asleep on the couch with the TV blaring and a cluster of empty bottles gathered on the coffee table in front of her. Sehun puts a blanket around her and turns off the TV before going to his room.

Luhan is home now. Sehun can see him walking around, so he turns on the light in his own room and stands by the window, waiting for Luhan to notice him. The smile that spreads on Luhan's face when he turns around and sees Sehun makes Sehun's heart skip a beat, and Sehun knows he's probably in way over his head.

 

It doesn't take long for Luhan to become the high point of Sehun's day, the one thing that keeps him afloat in the murky waters of the sea of sadness he's drowning in. It's kind of foolish, really, the fact that Sehun is so infatuated with a guy he barely even knows, but Sehun doesn't have a lot of people he feels comfortable around, and Luhan has this ability to make him feel at ease just by being there for him, never asking him about things he doesn't want to talk about, never prying.

They talk frequently, using written messages to communicate, and they tend to talk for hours. They talk about their favorite music (Sehun is very unimpressed by Luhan's collection of bubblegum pop and also learns that Luhan looks really cute when he's scowling) and their favorite books (Luhan insists that manhwa doesn't count, Sehun begs to differ). Luhan talks about life in China, about his friends and his house and his parents (he still doesn't share his reason for moving to Seoul, and Sehun still doesn't ask). Luhan wanted to play football for a living, but his parents wanted him to be a doctor. Luhan wanted to make his family proud, but he failed to do so.

(Sehun wants to hug Luhan and tell him everything's going to be okay, but they're separated by window panes and about five feet of open air.)

Eventually, Sehun does end up telling Luhan about his parents as well. About how his father is still gone without a trace and hasn't even contacted them, about how his mother drinks and smokes and spends her time with men Sehun has never met before. He also, hesitantly, tells Luhan about the mean words and the name-calling and the violence. He shows Luhan the black and blue bruise stretching across his ribs and part of his back from where his mother shoved him against a wall a few days earlier, still dark enough for Luhan to see it all the way from his own room.

There is no pity in Luhan's expression, and he doesn't look put off by Sehun's b tears either. He just looks appalled and angry on Sehun's behalf, and he tells Sehun that he is most definitely not worthless, that he's worth something to him. Sehun doesn't mention it, but he is so thankful to have Luhan in his life. It's dark, and Luhan is the light.

It's always Luhan who excuses himself from their conversations first, and Sehun always lets him go, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He stays by the window and watches the shadows cast on Luhan's closed curtains until the light goes out in the room across the alleyway, and although they've never met in person or even been in the same room, Sehun likes to think of Luhan as a friend. Somehow the loneliness seems worse now that Sehun knows what it's like to have someone else.

we should totally hang out some time.

Hang out?

yeah. i can come over.

we can just talk and stuff.

doesn't have to be anything huge.

I don't know about that

okay. maybe you can come over here, then?

I can't

why not?

hyung, why?

I'm sick

oh. well, then we can do it when you've gotten better.

right?

Sure

There are some days where Luhan doesn't show up until hours after Sehun does, and there are some days where he doesn't show up at all. Those days are the worst. Luhan's absence gives Sehun a lot of time alone to think, and he always ends up thinking about how pathetic he really is, sitting around waiting for a semi-stranger, whom he might not even get to see. He knows that he has gotten far too attached, far too quickly.

It's almost a little desperate, the way Sehun clings to Luhan. Luhan is one of the only good things he has, though, and he doesn't want to lose that. Very few people show any kind of genuine interest in Sehun, but Luhan does, which is also why it's so easy for Sehun to convince himself that Luhan actually gives a about him.

hey.

Hey

How have you been?

fine.

kinda missed you, though.

You did?

. sorry. that was lame.

forget it.

you probably think i'm just some dumb clingy kid.

haha.

pls don't hate me.

hyung?

I actually think you're kind of cute really nice

Sometimes Luhan is away, but he's always there when Sehun really needs him. He's there on the day where Sehun's mother tells him he was a mistake, that he ruined her life and her marriage, that she wishes he had never been born. Luhan asks no questions when Sehun comes storming into his room with tears streaming down his face and begs Luhan for a distraction, he just does as he's told and talks to Sehun until the crying subsides (and until Sehun's mind stops telling him to fill the hollow void in his chest with a bottle of sleeping pills to get rid of the suffocating sadness).

Luhan is also there on the day where Zitao tells Sehun that his exchange period is over and he has to go back to China at the end of the month (and Sehun considers mourning the loss of his only friend by walking headfirst into traffic or throwing himself in front of a train). Again Luhan distracts him, assures him that Zitao wasn't his only friend and that Luhan will be there for him whenever he can. And Sehun feels a lot better, knowing that at least Luhan thinks of him as a friend as well.

Luhan is there on the nights where the air in Sehun's house is heavy with the lingering smell of cigarette smoke creeping through the hallways, and Sehun is forced to listen through thin walls to the sounds of his mother bringing home yet another stranger. Luhan is awake too, and he distracts Sehun well enough for the noises to fade into the background completely (and makes Sehun forget how much he wants to take a blade to his wrist to escape this life).

Luhan is always there when Sehun really needs him, which is all that matters to Sehun. This is also why he eventually feels comfortable enough with Luhan to open up about things he has never shared with anyone ever before.

can i tell you a secret?

Of course

sometimes i wish i wasn't here.

What do you mean?

i wish i wasn't alive.

i want to kill myself.

I don't know what to say to that

it's alright, you don't have to say anything.

I'm sorry you feel that way

I wish I could help

it's alright.

do you ever think about dying?

Pretty much all the time

what do you think?

That I don't want to die

are you scared?

Not as much as I used to be

 

Can I tell you a secret too?

sure.

what is it?

hyung?

Actually, nevermind

It doesn't matter

are you sure?

you know you can talk to me about anything.

It doesn't matter

And then one day, Luhan isn't there. It's not unusual for him to be gone for a couple of days at a time, Sehun is used to that by now. But when Luhan disappears without warning and is gone for more than a week, Sehun grows nervous. There's a feeling in his gut that tells him something is wrong, and though he doesn't know what it is – or if he's even right in his assumptions – it's enough to make him sick with worry.

On the tenth day he starts considering going over there to ask about Luhan.

On the twelfth day he does just that.

The building Luhan lives in is, not surprisingly, pretty much like Sehun's with the exception of a few minor details. Sehun knows which floor Luhan lives on – the same as his own – and he had meticulously counted the windows to figure out where he needed to go, so here he is now, on the twenty-third floor, four apartments over from the staircase, standing in front of a door he hopes is the right one. There are no signs that tell him he has come to the right place, nothing that indicates that this is really where Luhan lives. Sehun decides to take the chance anyway.

From the time Sehun rings to doorbell to the time the intercom crackles to life, an eternity seems to pass. Then... “Yes?” The voice is distinctly male, but not one Sehun recognizes. He opens his mouth to reply and immediately realizes that he should've probably thought this through a little better before coming here. He has no idea what to say.

“Uh,” he begins. “Yeah, hi, uhm... does... does Luhan live here?” His own awkwardness is enough to make him grimace. Social interaction was never a strong point for him.

The man goes quiet for some time, and Sehun just stands there, not sure what to do. Then the electronic lock beeps and the door opens to reveal what Sehun figures (hopes) is the uncle Luhan mentioned. “He does,” the man says slowly while looking Sehun over. Sehun feels simultaneously relieved because he actually managed to find the right place and anxious because of the man's somber tone. “And you are...?”

“Oh sorry.” Sehun bows stiffly. “My name is Oh Sehun, I'm a friend of Luhan's. I was wondering if he's home? I-I haven't seen him in a few days so...”

Once more the man looks him over, only this time he looks like he pities him more than anything. The reason for that becomes evident when he sighs and says: “Luhan is in the hospital.”

Sehun suddenly feels nauseous. “The... the hospital?” he echoes, voice weak. “Wh-why is he...? What happened? Is he okay?”

“Luhan is sick,” the man says slowly, still intently watching Sehun's face as if to read his reactions. “Didn't he tell you?”

Sehun shakes his head, frantic. “N-no, no, he never mentioned...” He pauses.

hyung, why?

I'm sick
 

“He's sick,” Sehun whispers. Realization has hit him hard. Luhan had told him, but Sehun never expected it to be to this extent. When Luhan said he was sick, Sehun had been thinking something more like a cold or maybe a sore throat, not... not this. “He's sick.”

The man's eyes have grown soft now. He puts his hand on Sehun's shoulder, a comforting touch. “Maybe you should come inside.”

 

Luhan has been in and out of the hospital for months. He has pulmonary hypertension, a lung disease. His parents sent him to Seoul in hopes that the air would be cleaner than the air in Beijing and that his condition would improve accordingly. It didn't. Sehun sits on the couch in the living room as Luhan's uncles switches between talking to him in Korean and his wife, Luhan's mother's sister, in Chinese. She looks sad, like she's been crying recently, crying a lot. She probably has, given the situation. There's a glass of juice standing on the coffee table in front of Sehun, but he has barely touched it. He's still trying to process the information he's being given.

The more Luhan's uncle speaks, the better Sehun understands everything that has happened since he met Luhan. Luhan's absences were due to doctor's appointments and overnight stays at the hospital, and he was constantly tired because of the sickness. Luhan's response had been vague when Sehun asked him what he wanted to become, he had said that he wasn't too sure about his future, and...

are you scared?

Not as much as I used to be

Luhan had already come to terms with the fact that he might not have a lot of time left. The thought makes Sehun sick to his stomach. Luhan knew he was going to die.

Everything makes more sense now, but it's still a lot to take in, and Sehun's mind struggles to keep up. When he gathers his wits, he finds Luhan's uncle looking at him with an expression of concern. Sehun shakes himself out of his reverie and sits up straighter, posture reverting back to polite rather than defeated. He clears his throat. “So,” he says. “Luhan's in... in the hospital?” Luhan's uncle nods to confirm this. Sehun nods as well, weighing his words. He can't help but be hopeful. “Do you know when he's going to... come back?”

Luhan's uncle exchanges a look with his wife, who now appears to be about to burst into tears again. She excuses herself and leaves the room with hurried steps. Luhan's uncle watches her until she's out of sight, and then, with a sigh, he looks at Sehun again. “I'm really sorry,” he says. The words come out obscured, like Sehun is suddenly submerged in water, when Luhan's uncle adds: “I don't know if he is coming back this time.”

 

Sehun doesn't remember how he gets home. He vaguely remembers Luhan's uncle promising to tell Luhan about Sehun's visit, and next thing he knows he's in his own room, slowly sinking down to sit on the edge of his bed. Everything in between is a blur. He doesn't remember leaving, he doesn't remember coming home, he doesn't remember anything. He doesn't know how long he sits there like that, staring at nothing.

Once more he can't help but think about how strange it is that he's so affected by this. He's frighteningly dependent on Luhan's presence now, and they still haven't even met. With great despair, he realizes that they're never going to meet either, and suddenly everything seems so hopeless. The thought of Luhan not being there when Sehun is sad, when Sehun wants to end it all... it's enough to make Sehun's throat clog up, like he's drowning in the sadness washing over him now that he no longer has Luhan to keep his head above the water, and Sehun wants to cry, to let it all out, but for once in his life the tears refuse to come to him.

Instead he strips out of his clothes, crawls into bed and falls into a restless sleep.

 

At some point before dawn, Sehun is awoken by a quiet whisper of his name. The voice is unfamiliar, yet at the same time he feels like he knows it somehow, and when he opens his eyes, he realizes why that might be: Luhan is standing next to his bed. Just standing there. “Sehun,” he whispers again even though Sehun is looking right at him.

It takes a moment for the pieces to click together in Sehun's mind, but once they do, he sits up so fast he gets a little dizzy. Or maybe it's the shock of seeing Luhan that makes the room spin. Either way, he's completely disoriented, trying to kick his drowsy brain into action. Luhan is standing next to his bed. “Why...? What...? How did you...?” Sehun doesn't understand how this is possible. He just doesn't understand. Right when everything was starting to make sense to him, this happened. None of this makes sense. None of it.

Luhan raises both of his hands in a disarming manner. “Don't freak out,” he pleads (his voice is sweeter than anything Sehun has ever imagined on the nights where he was alone).

“It's kind of a little too late for that,” Sehun says with a bitter laugh. Squinting, he looks Luhan up and down. There's something off about him, but Sehun can't quite put a finger on what that something might be. He runs a hand over his face. He's way too sleepy for this. “Are you really here? How are you here? What is happening?”

“I need you to stay calm.”

“I am calm,” Sehun lies. “Really ing calm. Calm like a really calm thing.”

Luhan doesn't look convinced. Nevertheless, he sighs, and after a moment of contemplation, he goes right ahead and says: “Sehun, I'm dead.” Silence falls over them and lasts for a few seconds. Then Sehun bursts into laughter. Luhan frowns. “Why is that funny?”

“How can you be dead when you're standing right there?”

“How do you think I'm even here in the first place?” Luhan does a defeated gesture, arms flailing. “Do you think I kicked down your front door and broke into your room or...?”

Sehun's laughter dies out and soon his smile follows. He sits up a little straighter. “You're... dead?” Luhan nods. Sehun suddenly feels panicked. He's nauseous and uneasy and his pulse is rising to unhealthy levels. “You can't be...” He looks Luhan over again, trying to look closer this time, and now he sees it, the thing that seems off about Luhan. Sehun feels like an idiot for not noticing before now that Luhan is transparent. He's a ghost. A bout of horror rushes through Sehun and knocks the air out of his lungs, though not for the obvious reasons (there's a ing ghost standing in his room), more so at the thought of losing Luhan. He breathing stutters. “You can't be dead.”

“But I am.” Luhan looks sad, but he doesn't seem surprised about this outcome. Sehun almost laughs again. Of course he's not ing surprised, why would he be? He already knew this would happen. He knew all along that he was going to die. “I passed away late last night in my hospital bed. It all happened so fast, I barely even realized it had... happened.” He lets out an incredulous chuckle. Sehun doesn't see what's funny about this.

The room is still spinning, and Sehun thinks he's going to throw up. He pulls at his own hair. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, no, no. You can't be dead, you can't. Wh-what am I...? How am I supposed to...? You-you're all I have! All I had!” The admission should probably be embarrassing, but Sehun is too worked up to care. His eyes are stinging. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. He doesn't understand how Luhan can be so collected about the entire thing when he's ing dead. “I don't want you to leave me.”

“That's... actually kind of why I'm here,” Luhan says, now wearing a weak smile. “I have unfinished business keeping me from crossing over, and that unfinished business is you. You're the one thing that keeps me bound to this world still. Because you refuse to let me go.”

“Good,” Sehun spits out. “I don't want you to go anywhere, I want you to stay here with me.” The way Luhan is looking at him, almost patronizingly, makes Sehun feel like a petulant child throwing a tantrum because he's not getting what he wants. He does his best not to let that affect him.

“Don't you think that's selfish of you?” Luhan asks when it becomes evident that Sehun isn't going to budge so easily. “Do you think this feels good for me? I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't touch anything. Or anyone.” For inexplicable reasons, Sehun flushes at that. “All I can do is exist, just like this, forever. Do you really think that's fair?” Sehun can feel his own defenses crumble, and unfortunately, Luhan picks up on it. “You have to let go, Sehun. Please.”

“I don't want to lose you,” Sehun whispers. And, yeah, he does feel selfish.

Luhan laughs, but it's not quite bright enough to seem genuinely happy. “Don't you think you've grown attached awfully quickly to a guy you've never even met in person?” He's right. Sehun knows he's right. He's been thinking the same thing for a long time.

Still... “You're the only good thing I have. What am I supposed to do without you?”

Luhan's forced smile fades away. “You'll figure it out,” he says after a moment. “You'll figure it all out. You'll know what to do. I know you will.” He sounds so sure of it that Sehun is almost inclined to believe him. Almost. But he knows he won't figure it out, that he won't know what to do, and he wants to keep being selfish, he wants to keep Luhan here. He can't do this by himself. “Sehun, please.” Luhan's pleading face is too much, so Sehun shuts his eyes to block it out. He can still see it clearly, though, as if it's seared into his retinas, and it makes his eyes water. “You have to let go. Please. If you ever cared about me, let go.”

“Okay,” Sehun finally says. Tears slip through the cracks of his lids to roll down his face. “I'm sorry. I'll... I'll let you go.” He keeps his eyes closed because he knows that having Luhan right there next to him, even if it's just an illusion, will most likely make him change his mind. “You can leave.”

Something cold ghosts over Sehun's wet cheek, and he draws in a shuddery breath. “Thank you,” Luhan mutters. It sounds like he's closer now, but Sehun doesn't confirm it.

“Goodbye,” Sehun whispers.

Luhan exhales slowly, and he sounds sad when he mutters: “I understand. See you soon.”

The next time Sehun opens his eyes, he's alone.

 

There are no more tears. Sehun had cried and cried until his eyes felt swollen and his head was pounding, and then the tears had run out, so now he's just lying there, lifeless. Even crying for an hour straight, screaming into his pillow until his voice turned hoarse and his throat was scratchy, hadn't been enough, it hadn't provided the outlet he needed. He feels exhausted. He feels miserable. Now, more than ever, he wants to just end it all.

It hits him that maybe he should. Maybe he should really end it. The realization is like a kick in the head and it tastes a lot like the hope he had long abandoned. In his mind, he weighs the pros and cons and eventually he comes up in strong favor of doing it. He has lost the last thing that meant anything to him, which means he has nothing left to lose. The solution seems so simple it almost makes him laugh. He's going to do it. This time he's going to end it.

I understand. See you soon.

Yes. Sehun wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand, gets out of bed, gets dressed and marches across the floor, determination flowing in his veins like lifeblood, like courage. Yes. This is it. He's going to do it.

With remarkably steady hands, he manages to open the window. A gust of air slams against his face, but this time he doesn't tremble, not even as he swings both legs through the opening and lets his head and torso follow until he's standing on the protruding ledge that runs along the wall below his window and the only thing that keeps him from falling is his fingers, cramping up from clutching the window frame so tightly.

You have to let go, Sehun.

The ground is more than two hundred feet below, the concrete like a dark abyss waiting to break him, and he doesn't find it scary anymore, but it still seems to call out for him.

You have to let go.

He takes a deep breath.

Please.

And he lets go.

 

~*~

 

A/N: so. that happened. I don't have much to say about this story other than it's... it's kind of personal for me. I'm not going to elaborate on that because it doesn't really matter. some of you already know. you guys are my luhan. ♥

I had about a billion different ideas about how this was going to turn out, and this is the ending I decided to go with. it's probably the saddest possible outcome. like I said to my friend mia while I was still in the process of writing this: "I want to make it sadder". I hope it was as sad to you guys as it is to me. pulmonary hypertension is an actual lung disease, not just something I made up. oh, and the title of the story comes from this song. it seemed fitting. yeah. 

I would also just like to point out that suicide is never the solution to your problems. even if you're sad and you feel like you can't go on, it doesn't solve anything. take this from someone who has experience with this: don't do it. don't.

by the way, this marks the one year anniversary of this oneshot collection. the first story was posted exactly one year ago. it was hunhan's birthday story, and so is this... it's supposed to be that, anyway. cause, you know, what better way to celebrate a double birthday and an anniversary than by killing off two people, huh? man, I really know how to party like it's BC.

happy birthday oh sehun (april 12) and luhan (april 20). ♥

also, thanks to (there are going to be a lot of these because it's been a billion years since the last time I did this OTL):
aejeol - bannib - contaegious - silverstone - thecruelqueen - babyasian18 - rawrnise - geetoriya - amayixing - reineism - fabbutt - igkaupk - xiao-mae - ninjacodybanks - apoksea - jexotic97 - etteine - luhanass - kacichan - yeoljun - squishsquishkyungsoo - stewchicken91 - fallentwin - hunhanoppa - kwon_eunji - ultrablue - hyemolly - wangfire - senritsu - jinchan - sungielove - thehun-ah - hyeseong21 - renderedlovenai - marchtwentyfour - mehrainbow - kpopfanficlovers0606 - theblackcat96 - adogcalled-luhan
for upvoting. \o/ it means a lot to me, even if I don't always get around to thanking you guys.