A/N: Hello my beauties - I am SO SO sorry that it has been so long, but life, and college/school, and exams, and UGH. Anyways, to make up for it, this is a nice long fractionally under 1.5k installment of my classic word vom. I hope you forgive me, and can try to enjoy this chapter as the story unfolds~

Sometimes, the school canteen serves half decent bowls of fruit in warm weather; quite a feat for a school as mediocre as theirs. Today is a mix of watermelon cubes and grapes.

“Watermelon is a lot of fun,” Sehun says from his seat next to Jongin at the canteen table, stabbing a cube from his bowl somewhat violently with a plastic fork. Luhan and Minseok were absent, opting instead to fit in some quick studying in the library for a test next period, so the two were alone.

Sceptical, Jongin replied,

“…why’s that?” sipping from his soda.

The barest hint of a smile danced about the corners of Sehun’s juice lacquered lips.

“You reach the point where you don’t know what you’re throwing up anymore – food, or your own insides.”

Jongin resists the urge to slam his head onto the table in front of him in despair.

He definitely prefers grapes.

__________

Through a continuing series of bathroom-centric incidents, which Jongin can’t decides whether he finds awkward or heartbreaking, he has learnt more and more about the side of Sehun that no one else knows. Maybe it’s just because they’re best friends… or maybe it’s because sure, everyone else looks, but Jongin is the only one who sees.

No one else knows to slip Sehun band aids under the desks in class when his cuts break open where he refuses to stop picking at the scabs. No one else catches and steadies him by the elbow when dizziness claims him as he stands up to leave at the end of a lesson. No one else patiently waits with a cup of water in hand for Sehun to emerge from the bathroom stall, red eyes and even redder lips. Jongin never asks; he is simply there. He would ask, and he would try to stop him, but Jongin knows that prying would only cause Sehun to push him away.

It’s not much, but slowly, ever so slowly, Sehun is beginning to open up to Jongin about himself. It may seem like nothing, just snippets, shards, little fragments of information, but Jongin knows their true value.

He knows the “what” of what happens: the restricting, the purging, the cutting.

But what he’s searching for, piecing together with the tiny fragments he hangs on to so dearly, is the “why”.

It’s times when he begins to see his perseverance pay off that he feels like he might be on the right track.

An example came on one of the rare occasions that the combined forces of Jongin, Luhan, and Minseok managed to coax Sehun outside one break time. The weather was pleasant, and Luhan said that Joonmyeon had managed to smuggle a football out of lost property, so Luhan and Minseok – couple football enthusiasts – were keen to join the game. Jongin could’ve sworn that Sehun was a vampire in another life. He positively hissed as the first ray of midday sun touched his skin.

Jongin and Sehun situated themselves in the shade of a tall evergreen tree on the outskirts of the lawn as several of their friends darted about, shouting happily and kicking the ball between their teams. There were a couple of upperclassmen Jongin didn’t know, but he recognised the shock of red hair that was Chanyeol between the goal posts, and Jongdae’s Cheshire cat smile as he laughed at something Minseok said. Wasn’t that tall jock-looking guy called Minho? He had a sports scholarship or something – Taemin might have mentioned him at dance class. His mind wandered.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Clean air punctuated by the faintest scent of pine.

As subtly as he could, Jongin glanced to look at the boy sat beside him. Despite the terrible stress of being forced to venture outside the safety of the classroom walls to the fresh air of the school grounds, Sehun looked almost peaceful. Leaning back on the flat of his hands, legs crossed, his deep brown eyes lazily followed the football’s progress across the lawn. Fluttering eyelashes broke his gaze every once in a while. The natural light of being outside only served to highlight the paleness of his skin, a trickling stream of blue veins barely visible at the side of his neck running down beneath his white shirt collar. Jongin mentally traced his clear cut side profile, distantly admiring his strong jawline and sharp cheekbones. Almost too sharp…

Eyes drifting down further, Jongin saw the crisscross of red lines on Sehun’s wrist peaking from beneath his shirt cuff where it had ridden up. Gently, Jongin reached out and tugged the sleeve down to cover them. The last thing Sehun wanted was for other people to see.

As if the touch had broken Sehun’s trance, he turned sleepily to look at Jongin. Glancing down, he realised what it had been for.

“Oh… thanks,” he said. “Seems to keep happening recently.”

A pause.

“I guess there are just a lot of them,” Jongin ventured. He knew he was pushing boundaries.

Sehun pursed his lips as if in thought. Seemingly coming to a conclusion, he replied,

“One for every slip up. I record them in a book at home.”

His eyes resumed their tracking of the football, and Jongin allowed the peaceful silence to surround them once again.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

And it was a big chunk towards Jongin’s mental puzzle of “why”.

__________

Jongin’s final class of the day was advanced mathematics, but his mind was far from the equations scrawled across the pages of his book.

“One for every slip up.”

He tapped his pen against his plump lower lip.

Sehun was a generally quiet person; Jongin couldn’t imagine him majorly crossing any kind of line. So what on earth could he possibly mean by a “slip up”? Sure, as their friendship group’s resident bratty maknae, he was known to be a little cheeky to his hyungs, but… nothing so bad as to make Jongin think he would cut himself over it.

But what consisted as “bad” for Sehun? Maybe that was where the answer to his question lay. Stripping everything back to its barest layers, for Sehun, “bad” was equal to food. So maybe a slip up in some way involving what he ate…?

However, Sehun was also quite a withdrawn person. He didn’t get close to people; didn’t let them in. Well, apart from maybe Jongin. Luhan’s text seemed to flash before his eyes:

“Yes, but to Sehun, I’m not you.”

Maybe it was some kind of social slip up? Letting someone get too close? Letting himself go?

A few desks to his left sat the object of his inner monologue, slim, delicate fingers flicking through his text book to find another page. Jongin stole a momentary glance across at him. He sighed gently. It would never cease to confound him how someone so utterly perfect could be so terribly self-destructive, no matter the reason.

RIIIIIING

The blaring noise of the bell signalling the end of the day snapped him out of his momentary reverie. He couldn’t help but think to himself,

“Wow… that got a little bit gay.”

He was pretty sure that s were usually his thing… He packed up his stationary and unfinished quadratic equations, and stood to leave, his mind screaming “FREEDOM”.

Just as he reached the door, he felt slender fingers circle his wrist. He turned to see Sehun, and together they walked out into the corridor.

“Gotta love some good quadratic equations,” Sehun drawled as they sauntered along. “And don’t even get me started on quadratic functions.”

“ to me,” Jongin replied sarcastically. The two chuckled darkly.

“Hey, uh… I was thinking,” Sehun said.

“Never a good sign,” deadpanned Jongin. Sehun gave him a look, then continued,

“Uhm… d’you want to come round to mine this weekend?”

This was new; they never been to each other’s houses before, only hung out in the city, scouring the streets for which coffee shops sold the cheapest skinny lattes.

“S-sure,” Jongin replied, a little taken aback, but nonetheless interested.

“Great. I’ll text you later, yeah?” And before he realised it, Sehun was gone.

The corridors began to fill up around him as more and more classes were let out, so he picked up his pace to reach his locker before the human traffic became unbearable. As he changed over his books for the final time that day, Jongin found that he was left with unexpected butterflies in his stomach, and his mind screaming something much more exciting than “freedom”.

A/N: I've said it once but I'll say it again - if you've got struggles, issues, anything at all, PLEASE please don't suffer in silence. Talk to me. I'm here, and I care.

That aside, how are we all feeling about Jongin's confused inner monologue about who he likes, eh? ;) I know we'd all still love him no matter who he wants to be with, but the question is, can he still love himself...? Just goes to show that we've all got our struggles, and they all come in different shapes and forms.

Beautifuls subs, silent readers, and you, yes you, I thank you all for sticking with this so far and waiting so patiently. I will try to update again soon!