the damage is damning me down, down, down.

Hyukjae had always thought of Lee Donghae to be something like his "platonic soulmate". He had been 12 years old when they had officially met, while Donghae had been 15. As someone who lived in a very tight-knit community, on the occassions he was able to get past his natural shyness Hyukjae happened to love meeting new people and befriending them as best he could so he often found himself strolling around until late hours of the evening just in the hope he could spot any unfamiliar faces. But if he wasn't befriending anyone, he was observing. He found the different mannerisms in people to be interesting, even at an early age.

Hyukjae likes to remember the first time he saw Donghae, when he was 8 years old. Walking hand in hand with his aunt down the street on their way to get snacks from the convenience store, a flurry of brown hair and bony limbs nearly knocked him down before Hyukjae even had time to blink, but before he could hit the ground he was swiftly caught by skinny, yet strong arms.

"Sorry! You okay, kid?" a voice had sounded from above him after pulling him back up to his feet. Hyukjae could only nod. Donghae nodded back, bowed to his aunt quickly and sped off down the road, Hyukjae craning his head to look after him before his aunt tugged his hand, mumbling something about irresponsible teenagers and their parents must not be teaching them proper manners these days.

Hyukjae had by no means developed something like a crush on the boy just from that one incident; he barely had any time to register he was there before he was running away, but instead he just found him to be intriguing. Inspiring, even. From that day on he began to see Donghae around so much he wondered how he couldn't have noticed him before. Something that particularly stood out to him was the worn, brown leather-bound sketchbook that always seemed to be in Donghae's hands.

 Hyukjae was quite the artistic child himself. Whenever he had the opportunity, he was doodling or sketching on the nearest sheet of paper he could find. So when he was able to get a glimpse of a particularly good piece of Donghae's artwork from time to time as the years went on, he began to develop a sense of awe and a feeling he could only describe as pride. Funny, Hyukjae would think, when I've never even actually talked to him. 

 Hyukjae had also found it to be fascinating that Donghae was -- effortlessly -- such a people magnet. Everytime he saw him there was always at least two other people hovering near Donghae, chattering in his ear while Donghae was either laughing so hard he couldn't hold himself back from slapping whatever body part he could reach first, or humming quietly in response while hunched over his notebook. Whenever Hyukjae caught these small interactions between Donghae and his friends, his mind always wandered. He wondered what it would be like to have an actual conversation with Lee Donghae, what kind of things Lee Donghae would say to him, if Lee Donghae would laugh at his jokes like he did everyone else's.

By the time he was 11 years old, he began to idolize Donghae. He thought of him as someone more than