Confusion.  Memories.

 

The first thing Luhan remembers is a face, one that seems familiar, but distant, and always floats just out of reach no matter how quickly he tries to grasp it.

 

Luhan is not a noisy child, crying little during the day and generally well-behaved, but his wails and shrieks slice through the nights—and his parents’ peace of mind—when tendrils of nightmares snake around his consciousness and threaten to never let go.  The contents of such visions have usually dissipated from his memory by the time Luhan jerks awake, but he always remembers that face, even if he’s not aware why he still reaches out to that visage despite the night terrors it brings with it.

 

He manages to put a name to the face when his little sister asks him who “Minseok” is and he realizes that the unintelligible sounds spilling from his lips just before jerking awake are actually his attempts to form a name.  The name strikes a chord of familiarity in his heartstrings, even at the age of seven, so he clings to Minseok even though he’s also scared because it’s pretty obvious—from the strange looks that his parents give him when he tries to tell them of the face and Minseok—that other children don’t have such vivid dreams about a person they’ve never met.  So Luhan keeps it to himself and tries his best to act like everyone else, even though there’s this part of him that his child self doesn’t understand, the part of him that wants to go around and search every corner of the world until he finds Minseok.  

 

The memories slowly seep back in as he grows older, like raindrops squeezing through cracks in a ceiling.  His dreams become more and more vivid until they’re imprinted into the walls of his brain, searing pain deep in his heart as they do so.  They stay as he wakes, until Luhan starts to confuse his past reality with this reality, and he feels as if he’s going to go insane.  The more he remembers, the more he wishes he doesn’t, but of course that does nothing to stop the flow.  Luhan has no doubt of what those memories are, because each recollection settles into his memory as if it was meant to be there, as if it was a puzzle piece he hadn’t known he was missing until it had been into its rightful place.  By the time he’s graduated high school, he can remember everything: Minseok, their relationship, Minseok’s marriage to the duchess, the way their relationship ended.  That memory was the worst; upon waking, Luhan curled up in a ball under his sheets and didn’t move until hours later when his mother burst in to scold him for being late for school.  Even when he got to school, he was uncharacteristically quiet and unresponsive, and didn’t go back to his normal self for a week.  

 

    Despite the mess his brain has become, Luhan still manages to make friends, even though he’s known by the rest of the school as that crazy bipolar kid who apparently has weird psychic nightmares (Luhan’s sister is definitely not the best person to keep a secret).   Luhan’s never been very concerned with his reputation though, so he pushes that aside because he knows the only opinions are from the people who actually care about him (besides, if anyone’s crazy and bipolar it’s Zitao).  He has fun with all of his friends, and they include him and accept him for who he is, and that’s all that matters.  But still, Luhan feels as if there’s something missing, and he knows perfectly well what--or who--it is, especially as time goes on and his memories fill in the missing gaps in his consciousness.  He doesn’t try asking around for Minseok, because that would warrant answers and explanations and he doesn’t want to seem even more insane than he feels, but he does quietly look for Minseok everywhere he goes, even if it is the craziest notion because--well, this is someone he’s never met before, who he isn’t even sure he exists, and how does he even know all this previous life is true?  

 

    Yes, he has doubts, because people can’t just go through life based on just feelings, and there are still things that confuse Luhan, even with all of those memories.  He remembers that wish, as sharp and real as life itself, and the fact that he remembers and is in another life means that he and Minseok must have been given another chance--but is he the only one who remembers?  If Minseok doesn’t remember anything--even if Luhan found him, how would he approach him?  All these questions muddle and twist themselves up, morphing into apprehension and fear because as much as he loves Minseok, Luhan is only human, and he’s scared of being hurt again.  

 

    Those feelings don’t lessen any of his yearning for Minseok, though, so despite Yixing’s and occasionally Yifan’s attempts to set him up with someone, the relationships don’t last past the first date because all Luhan sees is Minseok and it feels like cheating and wrong (even Luhan himself can see how crazy that is, because it’s not like he’s in a relationship with Minseok or anything--they haven’t even met, for God’s sake).  

 

    …………………………………………………

 

    College is full of new people and new professors, of figuring out which crowd he belongs with and which one he should avoid at all costs, of classes at either ridiculously early or late times and never any in-between (NEVER ask Yixing to help with scheduling classes), of a very confusing campus with way too many twists and turns and too little maps.  College means pulling all-nighters for papers left to the last minute, cramming for tests the period before, passing out in the library more often than not, especially during finals week.  It means that Luhan is busy enough that he barely has time to think about Minseok and his previous life anymore, and when he collapses in bed at four in the morning he’s way too exhausted to dream, much less have nightmares.  Minseok is still on his mind, but he’s pushed to the back now, hovering on the edge of Luhan’s consciousness just behind microeconomics and languages and bills and overall life.  

 

    College also means roommates and late-night parties, and Luhan, who is not usually a hateful person, finds himself fervently wishing an expulsion on Baekhyun and his irresistible aegyo when he ends up situated outside his apartment door every weekend, headphones wrapped around his head in an attempt to escape the obnoxious fiasco blaring a wall away.  

 

    “Just get another roommate,” Yixing mildly suggests one day after Luhan’s fatigue-induced rant and consequential arm waving results in Sehun’s bubble tea finding its way into Tao’s lap and Chanyeol falling out his chair from laughing himself silly.  

 

    “I can’t,” Luhan groans loudly as he repeatedly bangs his forehead against the edge of the table they’re all seated around, ignoring Tao whine about his ruined designer jeans and Sehun’s scowl for his lost bubble tea.  He’s in no mood to treat anybody today.  “My apartment’s one of the cheapest around, if I kick Baekhyun out and can’t find another roommate, I’ll lose it and regret everything forever.  Besides, he’s not really that bad normally, he’s just a little --you two would get along,” he shoots at Chanyeol, who just grins and gives him the most wide-eyed, innocent look--which Luhan has learned is basically Chanyeol’s default expression and only succeeds in irritating him further.  

 

    “Tell him to throw his parties somewhere else or you’ll castrate him in his sleep,” Jongdae advises.  “That’s the best way to deal with little s.  Trust me, I am one.”  

 

    “Do you think I haven’t tried?”  Luhan mournfully picks at a random spot on the cafe table.  “I told him I’d kick him out if he kept this up, and he gave me the most pitiful look and was all ‘Hyuuuuuuung you can’t kick me out I’ve got nowhere to go are you really willing to live with the guilt of making me homeless for the rest of your life’ and he basically moped around for days until I changed my mind.”  He vengefully kicks at Chanyeol’s chair leg, nearly toppling the grinning giant over a second time.  “Stop laughing.”

 

    “I never thought I’d hear of someone who’s more dramatic than Luhan hyung,” Jongin grins and Luhan sends him a death glare before burying his head back in his arms.  

 

    “I’d room with you, but I think that would ruin our friendship,” Jongdae put in, snickering as Sehun’s sulk and Tao’s whines, having no effect on Yixing or Luhan, turn to Yifan, who is suddenly very interested in his cell phone.  “And I don’t know anyone who’s looking for a place.  Sorry, hyung.”

 

    “Doesn’t matter,” comes Luhan’s muffled answer.  “All I’m losing is sleep, as usual, nothing new.  If it gets really bad I’ll probably end up crashing at you or Yixing’s place anyway.  I think I’m getting hallucinations, too.”  He’d even thought he’d seen someone who looked like Minseok this morning; he was so tired he couldn’t even bring himself to look properly.  

 

    Yixing gives him a pitying look, seemingly oblivious to the scene unfolding next to him (Sehun has now resorted to nagging and tugging at Yifan’s sleeve because Yifan is weak and has money and money equals more bubble tea).  “Look at it this way: sleep loss is like, the very definition of college.  So you’ve officially reached the ultimate college experience.”  

 

    Luhan raises his head, stares at Yixing for a good minute, then hides his face in his hands.  His sleep-deprived brain is now churning out thoughts as outrageous as Yixing’s ideas, and Luhan is currently wishing he could burrow his way to the center of the earth and stay there forever.  It must be nice to be a mole, besides the blind part.  At least they can sleep.   

 

    “I don’t think you’re helping very much, hyung,” Jongdae muses to the clueless Yixing as Yifan sighs and reaches for his wallet.

 

…………………………………

 

    In the end, Luhan keeps his roommate and his apartment.  Being kicked out of his own residence happens so often that Luhan doesn’t even bother going inside when he gets home for the weekend, because if Baekhyun wants the apartment for his own Luhan should at least get the patio.  

 

    It’s after eleven when Luhan finally gets home one night after getting stuck in a particularly hellish traffic jam.  When he hears the blaring music and drunken whoops coming from inside, Luhan resists the urge to break down the door and kick everyone out, instead half-slamming his bag to the ground with a loud thunk (it does help a little until he remembers that his laptop’s in there).  He slides his back down the wall just outside the door and fishes his laptop out, not bothering to put headphones in because honestly the racket is way too loud tonight.  

 

    Luhan’s halfway through his not-due-for-another-week Accounting paper when he hears footsteps nearing him.  It’s probably another partygoer, so Luhan doesn’t think much of it until the footsteps come to a stop in front of him and a voice sounds, uncertain.

 

“Um, excuse me..?”

 

    Luhan looks up and immediately freezes because he’s just laid eyes on the very face he’s been dreaming about for as long as he can remember, and the name spills past his lips before his mind can catch up with his mouth.  “Minseok?”

 

    Minseok blinks at him, confusion written all over his face.  “How do you--do I know you?”

 

    Ouch.  Luhan suppresses a wince, but the bitterness wells up on his tongue anyway.  He knew Minseok most likely didn’t remember, he’d told himself so many times over the years, but...why did it still hurt so much?  Cover it up, he doesn’t know, you haven’t met him yet, be careful--”I heard someone point you out once in passing.”  Luhan chuckles sheepishly, running a hand through his hair and ignoring the knife twisting in his gut.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.  Did you come here for the party?”

 

    “Oh.”  Minseok frowns slightly at the screen door, through which the booming stereo could be heard very clearly.  “Actually, I was wondering if you could keep it down?  I only moved in upstairs a couple weeks back, so I didn’t want to complain, but it’s kind of hard to study when my apartment’s shaking.”  

 

    Luhan laughs.  He can’t help himself; not only because nobody inside the apartment is likely to heed a neighbor (they haven’t even paid much attention to him, and he lives there), but Luhan was actually very knowledgeable about how much Minseok didn’t like it when people bothered him while he was studying because he himself had often been the source distraction.  I already know so much about you, but you don’t even remember my name...you’re so mean, Minseok.  “I’d tell them if they’d listen.”  He grins apologetically at Minseok.  “It’s my roommate who’s throwing the party in there, and even though I’ve told him multiple times to take the party somewhere else, he never listens and I end up out here every weekend.”  Luhan gestures to the spot he’d previously been occupying.  “He’s the worst dongsaeng.”  

 

    Minseok cracks a smile at that, a smile that simultaneously warms and hurts Luhan’s heart, because it’s such a beautiful smile and he hasn’t seen it in so long… “I know the feeling.”  He glances at the apartment door again.  “Maybe he’d listen to me?”

 

    “Not when he’s too drunk to comprehend the alphabet he won’t,” Luhan says seriously.  “Best to attack in the morning when he’s hungover and doesn’t have an excuse to ignore you.  And good luck.  Baekhyun’s a handful, he doesn’t listen to anyone.”

 

    “I’m good at dealing with rebellious dongsaengs,” Minseok gives him a mischievous grin.  “Thanks anyway, um…?”  He looks at Luhan questioningly and the knife in Luhan’s gut does another 360 degree twist.  

 

    “Luhan.  It’s nice to meet you, Minseok.”

 

…………………………………………………………..

 

    Luhan learns that the hardest part of remembering reincarnation is pretending that he doesn’t remember.  

 

    It’s difficult to pretend he doesn’t want to kiss Minseok right then and there when he gives a slightly cowering Baekhyun a piece of his mind the next morning.  It’s difficult not to be so obvious when he cheerfully invites Minseok to coffee as a treat afterwards, and then again and again, as friends of course.  It’s difficult to pretend to get to know Minseok again, to not blurt out the crazy truth, because even if he’s not exactly lying, he’s hiding, and it feels like lying, but he keeps his mouth shut, he’s got no choice.  It’s really difficult to keep his hands off Minseok, especially when Minseok smiles his adorable gummy smile at Luhan or laughs or just does something that is just so Minseok that Luhan wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and kiss his round cheeks (for which Luhan dubs Minseok baozi because dumplings are his favorite food and so is Minseok).  

 

    Luhan finds that he lives off Minseok, and it’s so strange, because even if he has his past life’s memories, he’s in a different life now and those memories feel...distant.  It’s odd how Minseok is still so familiar to him, that he knows just what to do to make Minseok laugh and smile, knows just what to do to get under his skin and in the same way let Minseok get to know Luhan himself.  And he ends up falling in love with Minseok all over again, because even if this is the same Minseok deep down, he’s got a different story now, like a companion book in one of those series Minseok loves.  How is it possible to fall in love twice, with the same person?

 

    It’s even worse when he finds out that Minseok’s single, and Luhan finds himself agonizing night and day over whether he should just ask Minseok out already.  But there are so many problems to that simple question--he doesn’t even know if Minseok is interested in men (hell, Luhan doesn’t even know if he’s specifically interested in men), and there are so many things that could go wrong and he could lose Minseok forever.  Luhan’s scared, because he remembers the pain of Minseok’s death all too well, and he doesn’t want to mess this up again, so he conducts an argument with himself over and over until his inner conflict becomes as obvious to everyone around him as Hitler starting WWII.  

 

    “You’re screwed, hyung,” Sehun observes one day after a particularly frustrating (for Luhan) group outing where Luhan internally agonizes the entire time over how he can think Minseok looks even more adorable than usual in a T-shirt and jeans and consequently hovers over Minseok like a distressed hummingbird until Jongdae jokes that if Minseok needs a restraining order Junmyeon hyung’s the one with the law major.  

 

Luhan doesn’t even try to deny it.  “I’m going crazy, Sehunnie,” he whines pitifully, hugging his knees to his chest and gloomily watching Jongin tag along, smitten, after Kyungsoo, who’s trying not to look too pleased (Minseok had introduced them).   

 

“Then just ask him out.”  Sehun is already disinterested in the conversation, his eyes flitting around the room.  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who he’s looking for.

 

“Easy for you to say,” Luhan grumbles.  “You and Taozi were meant for each other since the moment you demolished his precious Maserati.  I don’t even know if Minseok likes men!”

 

Sehun scowls.  “It was only a dent.  And really hyung, there’s only one way to find out, so ask him out already.  You’ve dragged him to like a million coffee dates, it shouldn’t be that difficult.”  And then he spots Tao, cruelly abandoning Luhan to his pity sulk.  Luhan hates happy couples.

 

…………………………………………………

 

Sehun turns out to be right after all (although Luhan would never admit it, not in a million years, because Oh Sehun is a little brat and deserves whatever misfortune befalls him).

 

“What took you so long?” is the first thing out of Minseok’s mouth after Luhan stutters his way through a confession at their usual cafe on a Tuesday afternoon.

 

“Hey, in my defense, I had no idea if you were even interested in guys, okay?” Luhan snaps back while wondering if Minseok will ever be remotely surprised that Luhan has feelings for him.  Is he really that obvious?  

 

Minseok snorts.  “You could have asked Kyungsoo.”

 

“No I couldn’t have, shuttup.”  Of course Luhan couldn’t tell him the real reason he’d taken a while, even if it was a joke.  “Soooooo is that a yes?”

 

Minseok rolled his eyes, despite the telltale blush and the wide smile on his face.  “Yes, of course I’ll go out with you.”

 

Luhan feels a grin split his face and he nearly knocks over his unfinished frappuccino when he almost literally leaps across the table to tackle Minseok in a bear hug, not giving a flying that he might be the least bit overdramatic or that the waitress is sending them disapproving looks.

 

……………………………………………………………

They stay together through university, and Luhan is the happiest man alive at their graduation, although Minseok says otherwise.  

 

    There’s none of that uncertainty that maybe they aren’t meant for each other, as exists for some couples, because people don’t get reincarnated for anyone less than their soulmate.  And Luhan knows that this is his chance, their chance, at a happy life together that they didn’t get in the life tucked away in his memories.  Now, four years later, his heart still hurts every time he sees Minseok, but in an entirely different way.  

 

    After graduation, Minseok gladly moves in with Luhan, since his new house is much closer to Minseok’s law school.  Luhan, on the other hand, is going into business, specifically accounting, though Minseok teases that Luhan’s facial expressions are way too undignified for a refined occupation like business.  Despite his jokes, they’re both aware that Luhan is far smarter than people give him credit for, and Luhan knows Minseok is actually proud of him.

 

    Though they’re now much busier than they were in college (Minseok at studying and Luhan at finding a job), they somehow manage to still spend time with each other.  Luhan never fails to drag Minseok out to celebrate after a particularly grueling final, and Minseok returns the favor when Luhan gets his first promotion at the office.  And they make sure to watch at least one cheesy movie together each week.

 

    “I’m so tired,” Luhan sighs as he blissfully sinks into the couch after an especially exhausting day of complicated paperwork and barely manageable employees.

 

    Minseok looks up from his spot on the floor where he’s sorting through DVDs.  “Let’s pick a boring one tonight then.”

 

    “So I can fall asleep on my Minseokkie’s shoulder you mean?”  Luhan gives his boyfriend a sly grin and makes grabby hands at him.  “Come here so I can snuggle my baozi.”

 

    Minseok makes a face and inserts a disc in the player before sliding onto the couch next to Luhan, who immediately wraps himself around Minseok, pressing his face in his neck and inhaling his scent.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minseok try not to smile.  “Luhan, you’re supposed to have your eyes directed on the television to watch a movie, you know.”

 

“I missed my baozi.” Luhan sounds like a petulant child and he knows it.

 

    He feels Minseok entangle his fingers in his hair, the way Minseok knows he likes it, and the warmth against the top of his head indicates his lover’s head leaning against his own.  It’s moments like these that make those long days at work a little more bearable.  “I missed you too Luhan,” Minseok says softly.  Then he kisses Luhan, and they just stay like that for the rest of the night until the movie ends with Luhan, predictably, falling asleep on Minseok’s shoulder and having to be carried to bed.  

    If Minseok and Luhan can fit together so easily even under the stress of work and school, they can definitely put up with each other for the rest of their lives, so it’s not a big surprise to anyone when Luhan proposes and Minseok says yes.

 

……………………………………………………………

 

    The wall builds so slowly and gradually that neither of them notice its existence until it’s too obvious to look past, and too late to destroy.

 

    The foundation is laid when Minseok finally graduates law school and almost immediately lands a job.  He quickly makes partner, and of course Luhan is the first person he calls to tell the news to, and of course Luhan shows more than enough excitement for the both of them, squealing in a voice so high the bats could have heard him and prompting his co-worker in the next cubicle to violently shush him.  

 

    But a promotion means more work and clients and therefore even more late nights and it turns out that Minseok’s new office is much farther away from their house than his school was, and by the time he’s finished work Minseok’s too tired to drive home, so he calls or texts Luhan that he’ll be sleeping at the office that night.  

 

    Except those calls and texts gradually cease to come because over time Minseok spends all of his time at the office and almost never comes home.  Luhan gradually stops visiting Minseok at his office because he’s got his hands and brain filled to the brim at his own office, and when he comes home he’s too exhausted to for his mind to register that he’s collapsed into an empty bed.  The periods between each visit and call slowly stretch out, from 24 hours to every other day to every week and then once a month, and with each extension another brick of that wall is slid into place.  

    

    By the time Luhan realizes what’s happening, the wall is already complete.

 

    It finally dawns on Luhan one day after he comes home from work.  He’s had this feeling that there’s something missing for months now, but he’s always too tired to really think about it.  But today is different.  Today is the day he got The Call.  It’s got Luhan thinking about things he normally wouldn’t dwell on, and Luhan realizes as he’s scrolling through his contacts that there’s really only one person Luhan wants to talk to.

 

    That same person hasn’t talked to Luhan in months, hasn’t come home to their house and slept in their bed, hasn’t cooked in their kitchen or sat in their living room.  

 

    No, not our,  Luhan thinks as he numbly makes his way to his bedroom.  Mine.  It’s my house now.  I’m the only one living here.  I lost him.  

 

    He curls up on the bed like he always does when he gets home late, except this time Luhan is painfully aware of the cold, empty space next to him, the one that hasn’t been filled in what feels like forever, the one that’s meant to be filled.

 

    Luhan wishes that Minseok would appear and fill that empty space.

 

    This time, his wish doesn’t come true.  

 

……………………………………………………………………

 

    “He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Luhan slurs as he downs his fifth drink in a bar later that week.  Or is it his tenth?  Yixing’s next to him, telling him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen.  Maybe if he drinks enough alcohol he can forget everything.

 

    “Well if you tried calling him--”

 

    “I’ve called him so many times Yixing.”  Luhan glares at the regretfully empty glass in his hand, willing more beer to appear.  “He never answers.  He knows if he doesn’t pick up my calls I’ll just keep calling and annoying him, and I even waited 24 hours in between calls, so he’s not busy or anything.”  

 

    “You have a problem,” Jongdae mutters, and Yixing throws him a look.  Luhan pretends he didn’t hear.  It’s easy enough, there’s this buzzing in his ears loud enough to drown out any conversation.  

 

    “So you haven’t told him, have you?”  Yixing bites his lip as Luhan shakes his head.  “You could go see him…”

 

    “If he doesn’t want to talk to me he definitely does NOT want to see me.”  Luhan considers throwing his glass at the bartender’s head, but reluctantly decides against it after Yixing pries the glass out of his hand.  

 

“Enough alcohol, hyung,” Jongdae tells him firmly.  “You have to tell him somehow.”

 

“I’m not important to him anymore.  He’s gone. I can’t tell him, he’ll just feel obligated to come back and I don’t want that.”  Luhan suddenly feels like crying.  “He’s probably seeing someone else anyway.”

 

The silence from his companions stretches far too long for even the highly intoxicated Luhan to stay oblivious to.  He lifts his head in time to catch Yixing and Jongdae exchanging a look.  He can’t even bring himself to feel surprised.  “He is seeing someone, isn’t he?  What did Junmyeon tell you?”

    

    Yixing hesitates.  “It’s not even dating--not yet.  They’re just--flirting.”  

 

    “Flirting,” Luhan repeats.  “And so of course, everyone knows but me.  His ing husband is the last person to know.”  He starts giggling so hard he almost topples off his chair.  “That’s so funny.”

 

    His dongsaengs are staring at him.  “Hyung,” Jongdae says slowly.  “Are you...okay?”

 

    Luhan manages to catch his breath and finds his vision blurred with tears because no he’s not okay.  He’s far from okay.  Minseok’s falling for someone else other than him, and there’s nothing he can do about it.  Somehow that hurts far more than the thought of Minseok dying in his previous life.  What’s wrong with him?  “No,” he says, his voice somber.  Yixing, forever the caring friend, hugs him, and that’s when Luhan starts crying.  “I want Minseok.”

 

……………………………………………………………………..

 

    “I want a divorce.”

 

    He should have seen this coming.  He did see this coming.

 

    “Luhan, we--our marriage...it doesn’t exist anymore, and you know it.”

 

    No.  That’s not true.

 

    “So if you could--”

 

    “You found someone else, didn’t you?”

 

    Minseok blinks at Luhan, startled.  “What?”

 

    “You found someone else.  You love them, or you’re at least attracted to them.  That’s the only reason you would come to me for a divorce.”  Luhan leans forward, resting his chin in his hands, gazing steadily at Minseok, pretending that those words aren’t burning his tongue.  Pretending that it’s easy.  His lips are even curled in a small, albeit bitter smile.  “You don’t just spontaneously make major decisions out of the blue.”  

 

    Minseok’s wide eyes stare at him from across the table, the table sitting in the kitchen that was once theirs.  The very same kitchen that Minseok had attempted to teach Luhan to cook, where Luhan had tried--and failed--to make breakfast one morning, which had resulted in Minseok kissing him and very sweetly telling him to never wake him up with the smoke alarm again.  The same kitchen that held so many memories for the both of them, and now Minseok would add one more.  “Luhan, it’s not about that--”

 

    “I’ll do it.  I’ll sign the divorce papers.”

 

    And for the second time that afternoon, Luhan manages to surprise Minseok.  “...you will?”

 

    It’s ironic, Luhan thinks.  Twenty years they’ve been together, and the only time Luhan manages to catch Minseok off guard is at the very end of it all.  Or maybe it’s because Minseok still knows Luhan more than he thinks, because Minseok should know Luhan’s not the type of person to easily let go.  

 

    That’s what’s so sad, Luhan tells himself as he looks at Minseok, really looks at him.  He thinks we’ve changed too much to ever be the same, but he’s still the person I fell in love with, deep down.  He doesn’t know it, and he never will.  That’s why it hurts.  

 

    “Yeah.  It’s for the best, right?”  Luhan gives Minseok a smile that feels alien on his face.  His chair screeches, a harsh, piercing sound, as he stands up.  

 

    Minseok is still staring at him, teeth worrying his lower lip.  “Luhan, I--I’m sorry….that you have to do this, I....”  he trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish his sentence.  Luhan knows.  

 

    “You don’t need to feel bad, Minseok-ah.”  Because of course Minseok feels terrible about this, Minseok feels for people even though he’s a lawyer, and Luhan’s always told him he should’ve picked a happier job-- “Don’t worry about me, yeah?  I’ll be okay.”  And then Luhan ushers Minseok out and Minseok leaves and that’s the last time he’ll ever be in this house--their house.  

 

    When Luhan closes the door behind Minseok, the tears finally come and he slides his back down the coarse wood to curl up on the floor, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.  He’s shaking, but whether from the cold or the hurt, he doesn’t know.

 

    Because Luhan’s dying, and has been for a month now.  

 

I’m sorry Minseok, but I’m going to have to surprise you one last time.    

 

………………………………………………………………

 

    He doesn’t die completely alone, because he has friends this time, people he swears to secrecy.  Don’t tell Minseok, he tells them, and don’t tell anyone who’s likely to tell Minseok.

 

Luhan doesn’t want Minseok to know.  He wants Minseok to come because he wants to come, not because he feels obligated to.  That would hurt Luhan even more, and he doesn’t know how much he can take.  It’s selfish on Luhan’s part because he knows perfectly well learning the truth will probably hurt Minseok even more after his death than before, and he’ll most likely be angry at Luhan.  But it’s something he doesn’t want, and Luhan always gets what he wants and doesn’t want, no matter what.  

 

Luhan’s so utterly selfish he wonders how Minseok could ever love him back in the first place.  He wonders if this is it; he used up his chance, and he won’t get another one.  They did get to be together, him and Minseok, for longer this time--but not long enough.  Well I didn’t wish for a happy ending, did I?  I wanted another chance, and I got one.  I just ed it up.  If he was lucky enough to get another chance, Luhan would take it and keep it tucked away forever.

 

Luhan doesn’t die alone, but Minseok isn’t there when he does, and that makes him feel like the loneliest person in the world.  

 

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A/N: Wow that was so long!  I did NOT expect it to go so far.  So I lied, there's gonna be a ton of angst because I'm just better at writing it.  Thanks a ton to all the subscribers and comments, you guys make my day ^_^ So put a comment below and tell me what you think~