Luhan loves the night market that rests on the outskirts of town. It’s got everything that one could want and it’s never too crowded. Burrowing past the brightly lit stands of food and knick-knacks, past the tantalizing scents of fried goodies and the chatter of vendors, Luhan heads towards the back of the market. Dimly lit and showcasing things of a more practical use such as, old books, ornate upholstery, and finely crafted furniture; he bee lines for the first book stand he sees. Nodding to the vendor Luhan stands slightly to the side, eyes squinting up at the faded titles printed upon worn spines.

His perusing is interrupted by a loud bark of laughter a few stands down. Ripping his eyes away from the books Luhan notices a group of boys, around his age give or take a few years, clustered around a stand. Luhan’s blood runs cold as his eyes land upon the boy who emitted the loud laughter. His breath forcefully ripped from his lungs as recognition dawns on the other boys face. Luhan tries to swallow, only to choke on dense air.

Mouth dry Luhan can only gasp out one word, one name, “Sehun.”

The other boy, Sehun, slowly smirks. Luhan’s gut drops; it was the same teasing smirk Sehun used to give, the one that would have heat flashing through Luhan every time it was directed at him. But this smirk, this smirk, appeared different; there gleamed darkness to it, an unspoken danger. The wavering flicker of the lights in the stands near Sehun brings Luhan’s attention to another difference in the smirk. Sehun’s canines are longer, sharper, more feral; more so than that of a human.

Luhan feels as if the world has dropped away, all things tangible including his own body are void. Three years. For three years Oh Sehun has been missing, for two years Oh Sehun has been thought of as dead. Yet here he stands, right in front of Luhan, the boy from his childhood, the boy he confessed to a week before his disappearance. Alive.

That alone is too much to fathom for Luhan. His sanity departed, his body numb, and his emotions in a turbulent turmoil akin to that of a hurricane. Luhan wants to move, wants to bound up to Sehun, to kiss him, to scream, to cry, to laugh, to pound on his broad chest, and to be held against said broad chest. But he can’t, his legs are lead and his mind is mush, his neurons not working as they should. Luhan finds that he can only stand and gape as war wages within his mind.

In the end it’s Sehun who leaves first, turning his back on his best friend, his lover, to fade into the darkness at the far edge of the market. A sharp grunt from the old man working the stand has Luhan touching down to reality, his senses flooding back with a startling suddenness. With a fidgety bow and a mumbled apology Luhan escapes the market.

Somehow he manages to get home in one piece, physically at least for his insides are scattered and shattered. Raggedly Luhan climbs into his bed, his clothes from the market still on his body. There he lay willing away the hours and praying for sleep, thoughts unable to be fathomed, emotions refusing to calm, body shaking as a torrent of sobs wrack his lithe frame. Sehun was alive.