There are moments when he wonders how this all started. But remembering and pointing at the exact moment is just simply impossible. It’s been so long and it’s so tiring and painful that all the memories of when it was good are faded. It’s like they’re not even there, it’s like all he knows is this constant tension inside him, telling him there’s threat everywhere. Because that’s how he sees everything.

                There’s a threat in a hand stretched in his direction in a greeting. There’s a threat in an open water bottle someone offered him, there’s a threat in a doorknob. Nothing is the same to him after two years and he doesn’t think it ever will be despite him trying. He always thought of himself as a strong mentally person but this all proves he’s so ing wrong every day, every second and it’s like that spoon he put in a wrong place yesterday is laughing at him with voices of a million. How could someone possibly corner themselves so much, it doesn’t make any sense. When did his brain decide to go on a war with him? Because that’s the worst thing ever. Fighting your own mind, that should be responsible for your well and happy being. And it’s making you miserable. How it that fair?

                Xiumin looks at his hands, that are gripping a paper cup with a hot coffee in it. They’re scratched here and there, red in some places. They really hurt sometimes, but it’s all his fault, he knows it. He sighs and takes a sip of the hot liquid, looking out of the window to the busy street. It’s December and people are rushing somewhere happily, probably heading home, where they’re awaited by their also happy family. It’s strange, watching all this enthusiasm, knowing you won’t feel it. Because he’s skeptical about all this happy family thing. He knows it’s not a problem of his upbringing, he loves his parents. They’re lovely people that love each other and always have. He received and receives the best kind of affection you can receive from your parents, but he just can’t bring himself to get close to anyone. It’s another of his problems. That, he actually accepted. He simply doesn’t need another nuisance at this moment and he doesn’t think anyone would want a nuisance like him either. It’s the best this way. He gets up and heads toward the exit, crumpling the used cup in his right hand. He watches as the man in front of him sneezes into his palm and grabs a doorknob right after. "So dirty" - Xiumin thinks, his upper lip twitching in disgust. He pushes the door open with his forearm before it closes again.

               It's getting dark, the snow is falling prettily onto the pavement, not minding the passers-by. Why can't he be like this and just enjoy everything around him? The freedom, the wonders? He doesn't have the answer...

                                                                                                                  ***

This is going to be an agst. I'm not sure about the pairing, I still haven't decided who would be perfect for the character I have in mind, but I'll get to it. Probably it's going to be Chanyeol or Sehun, idk. This one is actually important to me in many different ways so I'm going to write this carefully to relay a message in some way. I hope this makes sense *sighs*. Anyways, I hope you won't get bored. :)