Myungsoo has good days and bad days.

He's fairly calm and collected -- and sometimes even miraculously happy, like today -- on his good days, just quietly working on puzzles or crosswords or reading books while slowly sipping from his cup of lukewarm cocoa (Sunggyu has left hot out of the options after that one time).

On bad -- worse, worst, all the same -- days, he's a plain lost, terrified little puppy; he'd flinch and jump at practically everything, and look at everyone like they're out there to get him.

It's no contest really, which days Sungjong would -- should -- prefer at any given time. So he acknowledges, with a grim smile and bitter, soft laugh and sickening twist on his stomach, what it says about his mental state that he could even consider the possibility of wanting the bad over the good.

But Sungjong's way past the point of questioning his own sanity. All he knows is that if he were still anything at all right now, he was desperate. Too many good days like today -- thirty six, he's been counting -- are taking its toll on him and he just doesn't know for how much longer -- how many more good days -- he'd able able to hold it in.

His hold on his cup tightens when Myungsoo, just a couple booths down across where he is seated, lets out a carefree laugh -- not that loud to actually be heard all across the buzzing cafe, but Sungjong always prides himself in picking up that sound anytime anywhere, because it's Myungsoo's -- over a joke that Woohyun has just probably told him but Sungjong couldn't catch.

He chances a glance just in time to see Woohyun leans in closer to whisper again and when he sees Myungsoo doesn't even so much as twitch, Sungjong's wounds just bleed afresh.

He catches a glimpse of Sunggyu's apologetic smile from where he stands behind the counter, knows all too well what it means -- you gotta understand, Sungjong, please please please understand because you know he can't -- and wishes that just for this one time he can make Sunggyu -- anyone, really -- understand why sometimes -- right now -- he'd delude himself into believing that even the worst days are actually better than this.

Than Myungsoo being so perfectly happy, like everything's all right and nothing can ever go wrong and he's not missing out on anything in his life; like forgetting Sungjong means nothing at all to him.

Like Lee Sungjong means nothing at all to him.

After all those years -- of gentle touches, of endless care, of i love you's and you are my universe's and other mushiness that were said in more ways than one -- Sungjong could have sworn, even against his better judgement, that Myungsoo might forget everything else -- why why why did i ever think of that -- but there's just no way he'd forget about him.

Well, isn't irony sweet?

At least on bad -- worst -- days, it's fair game. He's not the only one totally wiped clean from Myungsoo's memory. Everyone that matters -- him, Sunggyu and their late parents, few close friends -- are non-existent, but heck, Kim Myungsoo barely even exists on such days.

And it's wrong on so many levels, Sungjong knows, that he'd prefer something that wicked to the beautiful smile etched on Myungsoo's face right now -- not for him, no longer for him, no more. It's a whole lot darker shade of selfish, wanting Myungsoo to remember nothing at all -- not even himself -- if he can't even remember him.

But before he was desperate, Sungjong was selfish -- had always been -- and conceited too, and Myungsoo's okay with that. Myungsoo loves -- loved but oh my god it hurts so much -- him for all that he was, and in the end, that's everything Sungjong ever wanted to be, the only thing he knew he was: someone that Kim Myungsoo loved.

And if Myungsoo can't even remember that, maybe my life isn't even worth--

Sungjong feels rather than sees it; the feeling of having someone's eyes on you, and the way his skin crawls and his heart feels like it's going to jump out of his throat anytime telling him that it's not just anyone.

Myungsoo's.

Sungjong shudders, and takes a deep breath before lifting his head up just slightly to peek from behind his bangs. His breath catches.

Myungsoo's staring at him from over Woohyun's shoulders, and there's no mistaking the look on his face: he's curious all right -- can't blame him, the storm of emotions must've put quite a show on Sungjong's face -- but there's something else, something more evident that his eyes just can't quite hide.

Concern. Worry. Care in the least significant way possible, but care all the same.

He cares, even when Sungjong's technically a total stranger in his new, ed-up world.

Sungjong has only ever cried a handful of times all his life, but right there and then, he's so close to add another on the record because Myungsoo's flashing him a smile -- not the jolly, brilliant one that'd even put sunshine to shame, the one he always said he'd reserve for Sungjong and Sungjong only -- that is a little tight around the edges, a little conserved, but nonetheless beautiful.

Hey, life's not so bad, cheer up.

Sungjong can even hear the words Myungsoo doesn't say.

So he smiles back, stiffly because he's still fighting back the sobs threatening to make ways from his throat. And then he leans back on his booth, more relaxed than he's been in weeks, and thinks.

He could be anything Myungsoo wants him to be: someone he loves, the person he cherishes, his universe, his everything. But maybe now that Myungsoo is so lost, all he ever needs is a home to come home to.

Well, Sungjong could be that, too.

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