When he awoke that morning, Kim Jongin felt as though the world was new. The sun peeked into his room through the blinds and coaxed his sleepy eyes open. It was still rather early, only about 8 a.m, and for once in a very long while, he had no schedule to worry about. The smile that chanced upon his face was tiny and warm, and he rolled onto his back, ready to face the day.

While everyone else remained asleep, Jongin quietly crept into the kitchen to fix himself a quick breakfast of cheerios and a glass of water. He always did like the simplicity of morning; the undisturbed quiet allowed him to relax fully. He sat at the kitchen table, sipping his water and gazing outside of the window. From his perch, he could make out a man walking his dogs and several straggling teenagers on their way to school. Jongin smiles wistfully. He often misses those days of routine easiness, when dancing was at best a very good hobby and he could still see his parents whenever he wanted to. A part of him regrets not spending enough time with the people that brought him to life but if anyone were to ask if he regretted joining Exo, he would say never. It will always be ‘never’.

Jongin refocuses his attention to his now soggy cereal and slurps it all down before washing the bowl and spoon out and putting them on the rack to dry. He checks the time on the microwave and is not really surprised to see that it is now 8:45. When all is still, he often gets lost in his own mind, unaware of the passing time as his thoughts gain complete control of his conscious. It’s alright, though, because he likes these times. He likes to watch each thought come and go, as though he’s sitting on a hill watching a train go by. In the times, Jongin is tranquil and Jongin is happy.

He moves to the living room and pushes the coffee table off to the side. This is his favorite part of the early morning. Jongin silently lays down flat on his back in the middle of the floor and breathes. Just breathes. He focuses on filling his belly with all the air he can muster, then releasing it all in a steady, gentle stream. He repeats this and lets his eyes flutter closed. He lets the breaths even out his pulse until he can barely feel his heart beating in his chest. He lets his tongue become soft, unclenching his tongue, teeth, mouth and eventually his whole face. His body is pliant, now, and relaxed and he lets himself melt into the floor. This is Jongin in his finest element, the art of being nothing. He is everything, yet he is nothing. Jongin is filling himself with light, here. This is how he is so bright on stage. He lets the nothingness culminate into something that explodes into something magnificent when the stage lights shine on him. He is a star and he is going to explode.

Jongin is somewhere else entirely; mind and body completely separated, so much so that he doesn’t hear the soft padded footsteps that approach the living room. He’s about to roll onto his stomach to do some quick morning yoga when he hears the quiet thump of a body sitting next to him. All Jongin has to do is turn his head a little to the left and open his eyes. He’s met with large eyes the color of melted chocolate, and his heart speeds up, just a little.

“Morning, Kyungsoo-hyung.”

The aforementioned man stifles his yawn and smiles down at his silly dongsaeng. This is not the first time Kyungsoo has found Jongin sprawled out on the floor like this, and it certainly will not be the last. He lets his fingers comb through Jongin’s bedhead hair almost absentmindedly and spends the next few minutes admiring how beautiful Jongin is when he has nothing to worry about. He hopes and prays that Jongin can stay this untroubled, if only for a little while. This Jongin is so rare, and so vulnerable, and Kyungsoo thanks whatever God there is that let this cherubic boy cross his path.

He stills his idle hands.

“Say, Jongin-ah.”

The boy opens his eyes once again when he feels the soothing fingers stop their mapping of his head. “Yes, hyung?”

“Do you want to grab some coffee at that little café down the street? You know the one next to the pet store that you like so much?”

And Jongin’s heart positively takes off running in his chest and the intensity of it all leaves him slightly breathless. He wonders if talking with his hyung will ever feel less miraculous than it does right now. He hopes to God that it never will.

The smile on his face threatens to split his face open with its sheer force and he sighs.

“Yes, hyung.”  It will always only be ‘yes.”