“This is boring,” Baekhyun mutters, eyes shut as he rests his head against Jongdae’s shoulder. “This is boring and I’m bored and I don’t understand why.”

The younger man rolls his eyes and fixes his glare on everything and anything. “I don’t know how to help you, Hyung. Maybe you could start by looking up alternatives to the word ‘bored’ in the dictionary.”

Baekhyun doesn’t hesitate to elbow his friend rather sharply from their lounging position, allowing a smile to light up his features when his fellow vocal groans in pain. “Looks like I’ve found my source of entertainment for the day.”

Jongdae is about to launch himself to the side in order to attack his offender’s body, but Minseok walks into the room with tired eyes and a smile that is so forced that it causes both of the men to recover some sense of their maturity.

There’s a moment of hesitation between the two younger men as they look at one another skeptically, before Baekhyun is prodded to speak. “Hey, Hyung. Are you alright?”

He has to repeat the question at least three more times before Minseok even registers that the words have been spoken.

“What? O-Oh yes, I’m fine. I think that I’m just a bit exhausted from our series of performances.” There’s a pause as he turns his stare towards his two bandmates directly. “It’s so early. What are you two doing awake at this time?”

Jongdae parts his lips – probably to remark on the fact that Minseok himself shouldn’t be up this early either – but Baekhyun cuts him off. “Well, we woke up when Wufan, Yixing, and Luhan left to go speak with the manager. At least, that’s what they had said they were going to go do. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just sneaking out to go get something to eat. Wufan probably doesn’t have enough money to pay for all of us, so it’s only expected that he’d take those two.”

“Though it’s somewhat surprising that they didn’t take Zitao with them this time around,” Jongdae adds, following his elder’s train of thought. “The four of them usually go together. Probably to talk about China stuff or something. Or wait. Aren’t we all supposed to fly to China for separate promotions in a few weeks? Or is that just for Hyung’s drama?”

The man next to him murmurs a few words regarding his questions, but Minseok finds that he could really care less about whether or not they’re flying to China soon or not (after all, his opinion on the matter isn’t exactly relevant to anything in the scope of things). Instead, his thoughts turn to focus on the fact that five of the six members of his sub-group are aware of something that has been happening, and he had unintentionally been left behind in the dust yet again. He allows a soft sigh, and it is this small sound that makes the two younger men stop their bickering (now it’s something about which member of their band is more likely to be a talented actor).

It’s Jongdae that reacts first, perhaps already knowing where Minseok’s mind had wandered to due to their closer relationship. He frowns, and when he speaks, it’s with an innocent assurance that he hopes is enough to assuage the older man’s worries.

(It’s not.)

“Don’t worry about it too much, Hyung. They’ve never taken me out either and it’s not something that I particularly want to be a part of. They’ve gone through a lot together, even prior to our debut, and maybe sometimes they just want to talk about things that only they can understand. It’s not really a big deal or anything, which is probably why they don’t really bring it up. I only know about it because I’m a light sleeper.”

“Light sleeper my ,” Baekhyun snorts. “It’s more like he wakes up at the strangest times of day because he gets hungry, is too scared to ask Kyungsoo to cook for him, and ends up coming to me instead.”

“Hey, sometimes I ask Junmyeon!”

Baekhyun laughs at this, and it isn’t long until Jongdae joins in the laughter as well.

Not wanting to spoil the mood, Minseok forces another smile and assents to cooking up something for Jongdae himself – much to the younger men’s excitement.

He can’t find it within himself to shake off the heavy weight tugging at his chest.

---

Promotions, for the most part, have ended some time ago. Now they’re left with much more free time than they would actually enjoy save for the occasional solo cf or photoshoot. They’ve just started learning the music for their next comeback, and none are too surprised to find that their newest song’s choreography is even more challenging and rigorous than the last. While Chanyeol and Jongdae lament this fact and Sehun and Junmyeon talk about possible concepts, Minseok is more torn over the sheet music that they’ve each been given.

It’s early in the process, and they’re getting ready to divide parts of the song amongst themselves. He can’t help but wonder what single line he’ll be allowed to sing this time around, quietly wondering if the producers will find it within themselves to grant him more seconds to sing.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t stop himself from doing so.

Minseok’s been in this situation numerous times before, so it’s silly that he allows himself to get lost in a dreamlike fantasy every time they reach this point in the year. It’s irrational and ridiculous and he wishes that he wasn’t like this.

When they attend the meeting with their music producers and company representatives, he doesn’t bother focusing in on the words that they’re saying or subtly asking for more parts in the songs. He doesn’t intend to do any such thing because he knows that he needs to remember how pointless doing so would be.

Instead, his eyes are drawn to the glazed over orbs of the man seated across from him, all pouty lips and grayed skin and nervous movements. He quietly wonders what’s going through his mind and why he isn’t saying anything even though he usually does. He quietly wonders why he keeps glancing towards Yifan with that permanent frown etched into his features. He quietly wonders why he isn’t elbowing his best friend and whispering words in Chinese that probably have to do with insisting that the latter asks for more lines on the new album.

He quietly wonders what the other is thinking.

It isn’t until Luhan feels the weight of Minseok’s stare that he finally looks up with his lips parted in remote surprise as though he had forgotten where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.

The younger man forces a bright smile that looks too good to be true before averting his eyes to face the head of the meeting as though nothing had ever happened.

Minseok doesn’t understand.

---

It’s unintentional, but Minseok thinks that he does this thing – something that is probably subconscious in which he makes up a problem in his head even though it doesn’t exist. There’s nothing particularly wrong with him, he thinks, because if there was something truly wrong with him, then someone would speak up with some sort of remark on the matter. That’s just what makes sense. And if something was wrong with him, he would feel it himself as well, wouldn’t he?

So this thing that plagues him in the back of his mind isn’t something that’s necessarily bad. And if Minseok thinks about it for a long enough time, he realizes that perhaps it’s even a good thing.

This… this thing is nothing more than a series of ridiculous notions, a tirade of unrealistic dreams that he knows don’t make sense. It’s something that he knows doesn’t make sense, but once it consumes him, he knows that there’s no going back. And when it happens, there’s no denying the elation that cools the burning nerves of his skin to a light tingling sensation. It’s comforting and relaxing and once he’s in the moment, he doesn’t want it to ever go away.

But when it’s gone, he never wants it to come back.

Perhaps there’s been a moment (or two, or three, or five, or seven) that the monster in his mind has stolen from him: a fleeting memory that’s there and then not, a requiem that’s been sung once before that he can’t remember the melody to. Minseok knows that the fragments exist, that they’ve been absorbed by his essence at one point or another, but for some reason, he can’t call forth the remnants into his consciousness. All that he knows is that whatever’s missing is something important, something that he needs, something that is absolutely essential to his being. They’re things that are joyous and harmonious that Minseok knows made him smile when they existed in his present and now that they’re chained up memories of his past, he can’t even begin to know what to do with himself.

And that’s why he hates it.

He can’t decide whether it’s best to never experience the momentary bliss that this thing offers and never have to have that anxious feeling clawing at his very heart rather than experiencing happiness for short, ephemeral illusions that aren’t illusions but might as well be.

Perhaps it’s this emotion, this happiness that clouds his mind. Perhaps everyone would be better off if Minseok never allowed the thing to overtake his stability to offer him the unimportant emotion. Perhaps if he refused its advances, he could find the courage to speak up about his insecurities and the guilt that he has somehow developed for reasons that are purely theoretical in their scope and irrational from every possible perspective.

He’d be better off that way. He knows he would.

It’s the logical standpoint that he knows he should take. And yet, every time he hears the strained whisper of this is new, forget the past, don’t remember what happened before this, don’t let it eat away at you he immediately succumbs to its requests.

Minseok knows that it will ruin him, but he can do nothing but allow himself to fall further and further from what he knows is sensible reasoning; further and further from what makes sense and into a delusion that is sweet while it lasts and bitter once it is gone.

He doesn’t understand  it and he’s given up on trying to understand it.

At this point, Minseok knows that it’s too late. Minseok knows that everything he wants to strive for is in vain.

Perhaps if he allows it to take over him once more, he’ll find it within himself to hope for the restlessness to finally depart.

---

“If you’re all so bored, why don’t you go out and do something then?” their manager asks one night when the twelve boys have decidedly gathered in the common room of their shared dorm to watch reruns of some drama that Chanyeol had already spoiled for them long ago.

The suggestion catches them all offguard, Kyungsoo even squeaking a surprised, “What?”

He responds with a casual shrug, “Why don’t you all go for it? I don’t see why there’s no harm. Just go out to get something to eat and maybe go do some dancing for a few hours. I don’t mind tagging along to make sure that you guys don’t get into too much trouble.”

It’s clear that they’re all skeptical about the sudden freedom that they’ve been granted, and Jongin and Sehun have already begun whispering about what they could have possibly done to be rewarded with such a gift. Junmyeon, after sharing a glance with Kyungsoo, carefully asks, “And what of the fans? Won’t they be eager to follow us around?”

“As long as you guys at least try to disguise yourselves I suppose that it’ll be okay. We can sneak through the back of the building to avoid the crowds for the most part; don’t be silly, I know that many of you have gotten past them before.”

Nervous laughter rings throughout the room before Chanyeol’s excited voice finally overwhelms the others’, “Okay, then let’s do it! I feel like I haven’t been able to go out like this in such a long time.”

There are excited murmurs of agreement and it isn’t long before the room begins to empty as the boys leave to dash into their closets. Minseok hesitates for a moment, not entirely seeing the point in going and completely comfortable with just sitting around doing nothing, but it isn’t long until the awkwardness of standing alone in the room with the manager’s careful gaze set upon him finally settles in, and he scuttles after the rest of his band members.

By the time they’re all done and preparing to depart, the manager calls, “Yifan, Luhan, and Yixing, the company needs to talk to you. If you have time, you can catch up with the rest of us later.”

Sehun, Jongdae, and Baekhyun whine particularly loud about the statement, calling after Junmyeon to postpone their outing for an hour or two so that their beloved friends won’t miss out on the occasion. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, doesn’t hesitate to make a joke about how the manager is treating them all like little kids that only Jongin seems to hear.

“No,” the oldest man insists, “I don’t know how long the discussion will take. If the rest of us don’t leave now, then we won’t be able to have dinner first and that’s what you’re all really interested in, right?”

While it’s more than obvious that the food is all the boys had originally cared about (that and being able to actually do something for once), the hesitation seems to outweigh their desire. After only a few mere moments of thought, Junmyeon parts his lips to reject the offer and insist to stay behind and wait, but Yifan cuts him off. “We’ll be alright. We’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“Ge, it’s alright,” Zitao starts almost immediately, “We don’t want to go without you guys. It won’t be the same without the three of you.” And there’s something in his voice as he whispers the words that make Minseok do a double take, but there’s no trace on the young boy’s features to betray any of his thoughts. “We can wait. All twelve of us have to go for it to be fun. It’s has to be all twelve of us or nothing at all.”

Yifan turns to face his longtime friend with a sharp spin of the foot, expression full of defeated fatigue as he mumbles something in Mandarin so rapid that Minseok finds he can’t understand a word that’s been spoken. Yixing is the one that has to gently place a hand on his older friend’s shoulder in order to make him stop his tirade, and it’s only then that it seems that Yifan realizes that perhaps he’s said too much. He turns back to face the manager with tired eyes, offering Minseok a clear view of Zitao: head bowed in thought but disappointed eyes still visible from his position.

“Please just go on without us,” Luhan casually says, a familiar smile already on his lips. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Minseok doesn’t need to listen to his words to know that they have to be a lie – after all, Luhan’s lips say it all.

It’s clear that there’s a vast amount of hesitation on Junmyeon features as he quietly regards the rest of the group before he slowly whispers, “Well, alright then. We’ll be expecting you soon, Hyung.”

After the words are spoken, it’s as though there had never been a trace of worry in the first place: smiles break out among the other members of the group and they once again engage in their excited chatter.

Only Minseok, Zitao, and Jongdae take a final moment to wave goodbye to their group members.

There is a smile on Yifan’s face, though it looks like it’s about to crack at any moment. The shortest of the three shoots them a small thumbs up and a playful wink as he smiles after them, as though insisting that they go off and have their own fun without troubling themselves with worries.

And on Luhan’s face, the same smile that they’ve all grown accustomed to remains on engraved onto his features.

No words are spoken as they shut the door behind them.

Jongdae hesitates for a moment, feeling some sort of emotion stirring in his chest. However, it isn’t long until he runs after the rest of the group, calling for them to wait up for him and leaving Zitao and Minseok behind.

The older of the two is intelligent enough to know that something isn’t exactly right and that only his young companion is aware of the truth of it all. And the tension regarding the situation is enough for him to force the courage to inquire about it. “Zitao, what’s going on?”

His bandmate says nothing for a moment, but eventually offers a pained shrug. “I don’t know anymore, Hyung.”

Minseok knows that he’s not lying.

---

Electronic beats fill Minseok’s eardrums as he feels his head sway back and forth, balance offset by the intake of alcohol and the rhythm of the music. He recalls that hours earlier, he had quietly promised himself to not have too much fun until he was completely sure of what was going on, and looking at himself now, he can’t stop himself from chuckling.

Well, the past is only the past after all.

He’s allowed the whispers to take over his head, joyfully drowning himself in the night without a care in the world.

Have I ever had this much fun before? How much of the world am I allowing myself to miss out on?

The questions are like staccato notes in his head, momentarily taking up entire measures before quickly being replaced by the high-pitched screams of the party-goers and the light bumps that he receives from the people around him. The staggered fragments seem unnecessary and worthless, so Minseok throws them out of his mind as soon as he can.

And with the questions, he throws away long-forgotten memories of midnight conversations and tearful eyes and pained confessions and pleas. He throws away the fragments of a dream that he feels like he once dreamt maybe, figuring that what’s lost is lost has already been forsaken. Perhaps it’s destiny or perhaps it’s simply just carelessness.

The debate only leads to more questions, which only leads to more forgetting.

Minseok doesn’t close his eyes the entire night.

---

They return after hours of time spent in the restaurant and at a small, exclusive club, most drunk with too much excitement and mirth to notice that three of their brothers never caught up to them as promised.

It isn’t until they come home to all of the lights in the dorm on and Yixing, Yifan, and Luhan silently standing by the front door with packed bags at their feet come into view that a harsh reality suddenly collapses over the shoulders of the other nine boys, expressions dropping and minds suddenly rushing to clear themselves of the lost euphoria.

“H-Hyung, what’s going on?”

There’s a pained expression on the older man’s features: an expression full of regret and indecision and guilt and the silent plea for forgiveness. He closes his eyes and rakes a shaking hand through his hair before quietly whispering, “It’s complicated, Chanyeol. But the three of us – we’re leaving.”

Minseok knows that he’s not the only one who feels like he’s falling. He knows that he’s not the only one that’s suddenly found that he can’t breathe and that he’s not the only one who feels like his heart has collapsed in on itself. He knows that.

But for some reason, he finds that he can’t accept that logic.

“What do you mean? What did they want to talk to you about?”

A sigh escapes Luhan’s lips as he turns his stare towards his shoes. Yixing looks as though he’s on the verge of tears as he halfheartedly explains, “There had been some talk about the three of us trying to get our contracts nullified – that we were trying to leave the company. I suppose that they just wanted to set the record straight.”

“Well, if that’s all they wanted,” Sehun innocently starts, fear and desperation weighing heavily on his voice, “Then why are they making the three of you leave?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

And it’s that single sentence that sends Minseok’s world spiraling out of control, vision flashing black and white and red and blue and every color of the rainbow as something inside him keeps screaming no, no, no.

The words hit every boy hard, eight of them turning rigid at the words as thoughts of “What did we do wrong?” and “Why are they abandoning us like this?” and “No, no, please don’t leave” flood their minds.

It is only Zitao with his shaking shoulders and wavering tenor that seem to have retained some sense of mobility. “B-But, Ge… You promised that you would think this all through again. You promised that if you guys really did leave that you would make sure it was on good terms. You promised that you would never hurt any of us. You promised –“

“Things change, Tao,” Luhan bluntly interjects. The young man has finally looked up now, expression solid and voice trembling only slightly. “This isn’t intentional. You know that we would stay if we could.” He’s met with silence all around as the younger man can do nothing but shake his head quietly, tears already streaking down his face. The action seems to crack Luhan’s tough guy façade slightly as he moves forward to embrace him in a tight hug, “It’ll turn out alright, Taozi. Just you watch, we’ll all make it through this and we’ll all be okay afterwards.”

When that fails to assuage the younger man’s tension, Yifan quietly steps forward to pat him in the shoulder, “Nothing is set in stone yet. We’ll work it out. I promise.”

It’s these words that make Zitao flinch away from their embrace with another shake of his head, “If the three of you are still set on leaving us then it changes nothing. And at the same time, I don’t want any of you to stay if it’s making you unhappy. Your feelings matter, too.”

Yixing’s started crying as well now, rushing forward to pull his other three Chinamen into another tight embrace without a word.

It’s only in that single moment that Minseok realizes that the entire conversation that he has just witnessed has taken place in Mandarin, offering a silent explanation to the puzzled expressions of the Korean members in the room. He shoots a glance over at Jongdae to note that the younger man’s features are twisted in considerable pain, meaning that he understood at least a part of what had been spoken, even if he didn’t catch the whole thing.

With this assurance, Minseok waits for Jongdae to speak up and ask them to change their minds. After all, Jongdae’s always had a decent flair for words and is sure to say the right thing at the right time. And now’s the time when words are needed most. Even Minseok knows that.

“When the time comes, after we’ve all calmed down a bit, Tao will explain everything to the rest of you. But for now, I think that it’s time that we all got going,” Yifan states in feigned calmness. He turns to the dumbfounded expression still evident on Chanyeol’s face and forces another smile, moving towards him to ruffle his hair. “Why do you look so sad? It’ll be alright. You’ll see me again in no time.”

Chanyeol holds his gaze with the utmost seriousness for a moment, before his lower lip trembles, and he launches himself forward to embrace Yifan.

Words aren’t spoken, but Minseok knows that they’re there.

And suddenly hugs and empty promises are being thrown around the room and tears are being shed and Minseok finds that he still can’t move because this isn’t happening and it can’t be happening and he must be lost again within his own head because that’s the only possible explanation he can come up with for this.

He registers a sudden hug and words whispered into his ears. He registers that his shoulder is suddenly very wet and that a flustered Yixing has bowed to him profusely apologizing over and over again for something that isn’t even that significant. He registers Yifan thanking him for everything that he’s done and imploring him to look after Zitao and Jongdae. He registers Junmyeon bursting into tears and grabbing onto all three of the young men at one point, asking them what he’s done wrong and why they have to go. He registers Sehun crying because he doesn’t understand what’s going on and Kyungsoo and Jongin trying their best to comfort him despite the tears in their own eyes. He registers Baekhyun trying to speak some sort of sense into Yixing, begging him to stay and Jongdae holding back tears as Yifan reminds him to stay out of trouble and to not do anything too reckless in mock seriousness.

And then he suddenly registers a familiar smile in front of him paired with sad, doe eyes that are filled with grief and regret and guilt and loss. “Hi, Minseok. Are you alright?”

Minseok knows that he isn’t and he knows that it’s a silly, stupid question and it makes him want to yell and shout and scream for Luhan to tell him what on earth is going on because nothing makes sense and nothing made sense before and all he wants is to understand what is happening.

But he finds that he still can’t locate the proper words.

As though he’s fully aware of this, Luhan chuckles bitterly, “Right, right. Anyway, I don’t know when the next time we’ll see each other again will be, and I suppose that I just wanted to say goodbye.” He closes his eyes.

A pause.

“You know, I really liked you, Minseok. You’re a great listener and even though it seems like you never remember any of the conversations that we’ve had, I’m still glad that I was able to have them with you.” When Minseok can do nothing but blink in confusion at these words, Luhan forces another laugh. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I’ve let this topic slip through this big mouth of mine a number of times, don’t you remember? I’m glad that you were able to understand what I had been going through. I guess it was nice knowing that I wouldn’t be upsetting one out of the nine of you if I suddenly got up and left.”

No, no, no. You have it all wrong. I don’t understand at all. It hurts, Luhan, it hurts. Why are you leaving? Why do you have to go? Don’t leave us behind. Please don’t leave me behind.

The words aren’t spoken.

Luhan’s smile finally cracks and suddenly the tears are overflowing and he pulls the older male into a quick hug and whispers hushed words of Mandarin that Minseok wants to understand, but his heart is hurting too much to focus in on the words and his lips are burning with desperation and hopelessness and it suddenly feels as though everything has been forsaken before his very eyes.

“Goodbye, Minseok.”

Suddenly the warmth is gone and so is the strength keeping his lungs from collapsing in on themselves and the comforting tenor that has blindly assured him that things will be alright. Gone is the hope and the belief in a friendship that may or not be real and the trust that Minseok that he had created between himself and the departed individual. Everything seems to have disappeared from his very view.

But the clarity comes racing back.

“Do you care about what I think, Minseok?”

“How are you feeling today? Did I do something wrong?”

“Would you miss me if I disappeared?”

“You’re a good friend. You know that, right?”

Minseok would willingly throw away every last bit of understanding that he possesses if it means having things return to the way they used to be. He’d willingly throw away every piece of himself if it meant returning things to the way they used to be. That’s what’s right, that’s what’s fair, that’s what makes sense.

The front door opens, a sudden burst of cold, autumn air rushing into the room as Yifan, Luhan, and Yixing quietly pick up their things and get ready to file out through the door.

Without thinking of any possible repercussions, Minseok reaches forward to grab onto the closest element of his departing bandmates within his reach, settling for the back of Yixing’s shirt. The slight force is enough to halt the young man’s advance, but Luhan and Yifan continue forward towards the hailed taxi without noticing his absence.

“Don’t go,” Minseok hears himself whisper, “I don’t want any of you to leave. Please stay.”

And the words are quiet and hushed – pathetic almost – but Minseok doesn’t care because he doesn’t know what else he can possibly do at this point. It suddenly feels as though it is only the two of them in the room; the weight of the other eight boys’ stares feels like nothing on Minseok’s back as he pleads. This is all he has left. It’s his only option.

It scares him.

“You know I can’t do that, Hyung,” Yixing mumbles in his awkward Korean, back still facing Minseok. “It’s no one’s fault, really. But there comes a time when someone realizes how maladapted they are for the path they have chosen, and it’s better for them to correct themselves early on before they find themselves abandoned and lost on a road that they can’t run backwards on.”

The words are probably supposed to make some sort of sense to Minseok, but the man finds that they’re all just a jumble of syllables and all his mind can register is no, no, no.

“We’ve been putting it off for a while now because we love all of you too much to want to leave in this sort of way. But I suppose that now that the company has heard about our supposed intentions, there’s no longer a point in trying to push it away. And Luhan, who had been pushing for the longest time that we’re important here and we can’t leave you guys because you need us, has suddenly stopped pushing that point. He’s started to say that even though we love being a group of twelve and we’re loved for being a group of twelve, it doesn’t matter all too much as long as we stay in touch. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

But it’s not enough for Minseok because he loves being offered dancing tips from Yixing in the practice room and having Yifan give him advice on how to make himself more likable and having Luhan sit with him when no one else will and just talking to him to make all the loneliness go away.

He doesn’t want to believe that this is happening.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner. I don’t want any of you to go. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here and I want you stay with us and I promise that we can fix whatever problems you guys have with the company and everything can go back to the way it was before –"

It’s only now that Yixing turns to face the rest of the men in the room – slow and deliberate, as though he’s not sure if he should say what he’s about to say – with a sad smile that doesn’t look like it belongs on his face. “You of all people should know how much your words mean to Luhan. If this is how you feel, why did you never say a word of this to him?”

And the question makes Minseok’s heart stop beating in his chest as he asks himself why, why, why and he knows that he’s just stalling for time because the answer has been clear to him for what feels like his whole life.

“Because I was too scared.”

If it’s possible, Yixing’s smile shifts slightly to allow some sort of sympathy to shine through, and suddenly Minseok feels like this smile is maybe even more forced than Luhan’s. It’s suddenly clear to him that Yixing doesn’t actually want to leave and that he’s sad that it’s come to this and so maybe it’s the same scenario with both Yifan and Luhan. He’s not sure, but all he knows is that there’s something about the assuring aura that the younger man is trying to share that makes Minseok’s heart freeze.

“I don’t understand how you can allow yourself to live in such fear all the time.”

Minseok knows that he doesn’t understand it either and knows that he has no hope for possibly understanding it at all.

He can do nothing but quietly fall to the floor as he allows his sobs to finally rack his small frame.

Yixing says something else – something to the rest of the group as a whole that sends Junmyeon and Baekhyun running to engulf him in another hug. He grabs his last bag from the floor, but before leaving, whispers one more thing to Minseok.

Minseok really wishes that he had paid attention to the words that he had spoken. Perhaps it would have given him more of a sense of closure. But unluckily for him, his mind is too preoccupied with thoughts of desperation and pleas that they can’t process anything.

And it infuriates him to no end.

The Chinese man is doing his best to hold back his tears as he turns once more and exits the dormitory one last time.

Minseok can’t even find the courage to say goodbye – and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s still too scared to do so, or if it’s because the word seems to possess a tone of finality to it that he doesn’t want to believe is real.

---

author's note: okay, i'm actually really disappointed with how the ending came out because it feels way too rushed. OTL. the deadline came sooner than i thought it would, which totally . definitely going to come back and edit this later. ;nnnn;

anywho, here were the cards used:

genre: canon!verse
genre: romance
prompt: "stop swimming across oceans for people who won't jump a puddle for you."
prompt: "i had a weird, empty feeling inside of me. not a bad sort of empty. it was a sort of lack of sensation, like being in pain for a long time and then suddenly realizing that you're not anymore."
phrase: "how do you live in fear all the time?"

thank you all for sticking with me on this roller coaster! it means so much! ;uuu;