Notes: Written for the suhan fic fest (http://mydeerangel.livejournal.com/ )

Length: 10.3k

Warnings: Self-harm, depression, mental instability

Please don't read if any of these are triggering subjects!

Summary: Junmyeon has been waiting his whole life to meet his soul mate. He’s quickly sinking into a quicksand trap of self-loathing and desperation—but an unexpected individual holds the key to his escape.

Notes: First of all, thank you to my prompter for this awesome prompt! Secondly, thank you to mods for hosting this exchange, it was super fun! Thirdly, I am so, so sorry for not handling all of the topics in this prompt properly. I wasn’t able to fully incorporate my research on mental illness, and there may be inaccurate portrayals of mental illness in this fic. I ask for forgiveness for not being able to portray these correctly. Also please note that Junmyeon is not schizophrenic in this fic, but does have very severe depression. Other than that, again thank you to everyone and all my writer friends for supporting me on my journey to write this. I hope you enjoy!

Save Me

A cold winter wind blew down the street, and Junmyeon shivered in his thin argyle sweater as he stood on the front porch of his house with a watering can. He tipped the can over a pot of violets and watched water pour out of the spout and splash prettily over the dark purple petals of the flowers.

Another gust of wind pricked at the fingers and Junmyeon straightened his hands and came to stand beside the next plant. He looked out across the street, his posture slackening as his thoughts drifted away from his task.

“Everyone finds their soulmate someday. Some just find out later than most.”

Junmyeon’s mother had said those words to him last month, when she’d found him crying in a corner of the kitchen. She’d patted his back, handed him a handkerchief to dry his face, and then gently laughed at him for being so melodramatic about it later.

Junmyeon felt a bitter tug at his heart at the thought. His mother didn’t understand what he was going through. She and his father had found each other when they were only seven years old. Of course, they’d had their own troubles knowing each other from such a young age, but Junmyeon couldn’t help but feel like he had it worse—at least they knew that their soulmate existed. He didn’t even know if his soulmate was born yet, or where they were.

“Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon flinched and nearly dropped the watering can he was holding. “Yes mother?”

“You’ve been watering the plants for nearly half an hour now,” his mother chided him gently. “Hurry along now, your cousins are coming over for dinner soon.”

“I’m sorry.” Junmyeon hastily tipped the watering can so that water splashed on to the pot of geraniums sitting at his waist level. “I’ll hurry.”

His mother hummed softly in acknowledgement and left the room. Junmyeon let out a quiet sigh of relief and moved over to the next plant on the porch step; he’d been getting lost in his thoughts quite a bit lately, and he didn’t want his mother to give him another lecture about daydreaming.

His cousins from China had just moved into an apartment on the other side of town. Junmyeon vaguely remembered his mother turning her nose up slightly when she heard that they’d moved into one of the poorer neighborhoods, but he’d just shrugged and turned away. Apparently, his cousins had also brought another family, the Xiaos, with them, who lived in a house three streets over from Junmyeon. Both families would be coming for dinner tonight.

Honestly, Junmyeon didn’t care much for them. His aunt and his uncle had always been kind, but distant with him. The same thing went for his older cousin, Yifan, who currently was studying for the medical school entrance exams. Yixing was younger than him by a few months, and they were much closer than either Yifan or his parents, but he had a tendency to always be lost in his own mind, humming chromatic melodies under his breath or scribbling away on a sheaf of manuscript paper. Yixing had already applied to several Korean music colleges and was graduating from school six months early. Junmyeon vaguely wondered if his aunt and uncle would move again to follow Yixing and Yifan when they left, or if they would stay in this quiet town.

Junmyeon didn’t know much about their family friend, except that they had a son who was older than both Junmyeon and Yifan and liked to play soccer. Junmyeon wondered, bitterly, if the son had already found his soulmate, but then forced himself to stop. It was no good to get moody on a cold, winter day like this, especially right before company was coming over. He hurried back inside the house and set the empty watering can down next to the basket of apples on the kitchen counter and hurried upstairs to change his clothes and fix his hair.

A gentle knock sounded and his bedroom door opened a crack. “Junmyeon? May I come in?” His mother’s soft voice filled the room, and Junmyeon nearly dropped his hairbrush in surprise.

“Sure, come in mama.” Junmyeon turned back to the mirror on his dresser and began carefully combing his hair to lie flat over his forehead. He watched his mother enter the room behind him through the mirror.

His mother was a beautiful woman, and Junmyeon knew that he’d inherited his own fair skin and delicate facial structure from her. She had an elegant sense of fashion and always moved gracefully; Junmyeon didn’t think that he’d ever seen her trip or stumble once during his childhood. She was the epitome of a good housewife; she always had a charming smile on her face and ruled the household with gentle sternness. She always had a smile on her face for her husband and houseguests were always treated to the dulcet tones of her soft laughter. Junmyeon sometimes wondered if he would grow up to be like his mother if he were a girl, and how different it would be.

Junmyeon’s mother settled herself on his bed and smiled at him through the mirror. “Junmyeonnie,” she said gently, “Where’s that black sweater that I bought you last week? You should wear it tonight.”

“But black is such a dismal color for today,” Junmyeon murmured, his eyes concentrated on the teeth of the comb as they pressed lightly against his forehead. “I think that this blue sweater is alright.”

“But dark colors bring out your skin tone, dear.” Junmyeon’s mother got off the bed and began rummaging through Junmyeon’s closet and Junmyeon sighed through his nose; it looked like he was going to have to change sweaters…and redo his hair again. He set the comb down and walked over to pull the sweater out of his closet.

“Is there a reason why you want to bring out my skin tone tonight, mother?” Junmyeon as he slipped the sweater off of its hanger.

“The Xiao family is coming over tonight, and they have a son. I want you to make a good impression.”

“This is the son that’s older than both Yifan and I and likes soccer, right?” Junmyeon pulled his blue sweater over his head and gingerly tugged the black one on, doing his best to keep his hair unruffled.

“That’s right. Apparently he’s studying to be a dancer.” Junmyeon’s mother sniffed slightly. “I don’t understand why the Xiaos moved into a better neighborhood than Yuri, honestly.”

“Perhaps Aunt Yuri will move into a better neighborhood once she finds a better housing contract,” Junmyeon said wryly, crossing the room to go fix his hair in front of the mirror again. “Honestly mother, the neighborhood isn’t that bad.”

“You say that because you aren’t the one introducing Aunt Yuri to all of your acquaintances,” his mother said archly, but then collapsed into soft laughter. “It’s so silly. But I do hope that she moves soon, that neighborhood isn’t as safe as others are.”

Junmyeon restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Of course.”

The ringing of the doorbell sounded through the house, and Junmyeon’s mother quickly got to her feet. “Come downstairs soon sweetie.” She left in a rustle of skirts, and Junmyeon sighed with relief. He loved his mother, he honestly did, but sometimes he couldn’t stand her. Especially when she started talking about social things.

The sound of voices drifted from downstairs, and Junmyeon’s lips tilted upwards when he heard the familiar sounds of his aunt, uncle and cousins. There were also two—no, three unfamiliar voices, and Junmyeon supposed that they were the Xiaos.

Junmyeon sighed quietly and set his comb down, his bangs lying in a neat fringe across his forehead. He looked at himself critically in the mirror; he looked fragile, the black sweater making his skin seem paler than normal, and his lips and eyes standing out starkly from his face. He hoped that the Xiao boy wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that he was delicate, even though he was younger and had pale skin. Junmyeon had been fending for himself for years, against his classmates in high school, and his family. He didn’t need some guy protecting him from everything, as his friends and family were prone to doing.

Junmyeon listened until he was sure that everyone was seated in the living room and then left his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He’d come to an understanding of what his mother wanted from him when she told him to dress a certain way, and he quietly resigned himself to being led around like a show-pony for the rest of the night. He started down the stairs, setting one foot quietly down after another, silently hoping to make it to the bottom without being noticed, but no such luck.

“Junmyeon!” His mother trilled out from her seat on the sofa by the fireplace. Instantly, all the eyes in the room snapped over to him, and Junmyeon forced himself to smile disarmingly.

“Hello,” he said softly, his eyes flying across the room and settling on his aunt and uncle’s faces. They smiled back at him as he finally stepped on to the landing of the stairs.

“Junmyeon,” his mother smiled at him patiently, and Junmyeon obediently went over to her side. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Xiao, and their son, Luhan.” Junmyeon smiled politely and shook hands with them; Mr. Xiao was tall and stood stiffly, making Junmyeon wonder if he’d ever served in the military. Mrs. Xiao was similar to his own mother, standing with poised grace and a reserved smile on his face. Junmyeon suspected that she would get along with his mother marvelously.

And then there was Luhan. Junmyeon nearly gasped in surprise when he looked at Luhan’s face; Luhan was beautiful. Luckily, he regained his composure long enough to shake Luhan’s hand and then glance over at Yifan, who smirked back at him. Luhan’s parents split off to go talk with the adults, leaving Junmyeon and Luhan alone in front of the fireplace. Junmyeon smiled nervously at Luhan, who looked just as terrified at the prospect of awkward silence.

Luckily, they were saved by Yixing. “Junmyeon!” Yixing flung his arms around Junmyeon’s neck.

Junmyeon winced and nearly toppled over underneath Yixing’s weight. Luckily, Yifan came to his rescue a moment later and lifted Yixing neatly off of Junmyeon’s body. “We’ve missed you.”

“Clearly,” Junmyeon laughed, turning away from Luhan. “I missed you guys too.”

“I would never have guessed since you let Yifan rescue you,” Yixing pouted as Yifan let go of him.

“I was about to fall over, what else did you want me to do?” Junmyeon shot back, but he reached out to pull Yixing into another hug.

Yifan cleared his throat awkwardly, and both Junmyeon and Yixing turned their heads to look at him. Yifan had a hand on Luhan’s shoulder and gave them both a pointed look. “Anyways, so as Aunt Soojung said, this is Luhan. We were neighbors in China. Luhan’s dad got a job in a city nearby, so we all moved here.”

“I got a job as a vocal teacher here, but I’m also hunting around for jobs at entertainment companies in the city.” Luhan smiled, and Junmyeon noticed that he seemed a lot more comfortable, now that Yifan had introduced them.

“That’s wonderful,” Junmyeon said warmly, and gently disentangled himself from Yixing. “I’m still a high school student here, I’m taking my exit exams next winter.”

“I’m taking mine in five months,” Yixing piped up suddenly. “We should study together, Junmyeon.”

“You’ll be much farther ahead in your studies than me,” Junmyeon said doubtfully. “I don’t know…”

“Yixing,” Yifan said sharply.

“What?” Yixing snapped back at him.

Yifan pulled Yixing and murmured something quietly to him while Junmyeon watched them, completely nonplussed. Why was Yifan so upset?

“So,” Luhan said suddenly, filling the awkward silence as Yifan and Yixing glared at each other. “Do you know what you want to study in college, Junmyeon?”

“Um,” Junmyeon said slowly, his eyes darting back to Yifan and Yixing for a moment. “I’m not sure yet. I like literature, I was thinking about going into the humanities.”

Luhan opened his mouth to respond, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Junmyeon’s father.

“Boys,” he said with a warm smile. “Dinner is ready.”

“Thanks Dad.” Junmyeon smiled back at his father and turned away, leading the group out to the dining table.

Later that night, after the guests had left and he’d finished helping his parents clean up, Junmyeon reflected on the dinner. It had been nice to see his cousins again, and the Xiaos had been kind and polite. Luhan had been awkwardly silent, but Junmyeon supposed that the more time they spent together, Luhan would open up.

Junmyeon rolled over on to his side and stared unseeingly at the door of his closet. Yifan had announced that he and his soulmate, a girl who was apparently still living back in China, were planning to get married next fall. Junmyeon was happy for Yifan; he was incredibly happy that his cousin had found his soulmate and that they were getting ready to spend their lives together.

What he wasn’t happy about was the entire table had collectively stopped eating and glanced at him, including the Xiaos. That meant that they knew—that they knew Junmyeon was still alone. Junmyeon ground his teeth in frustration; he didn’t know whether or not Luhan had already found his soulmate, but judging from the striking mixture of sympathy and pity swimming in his eyes, Junmyeon could guess that he had.

Junmyeon rolled over on to his other side with a huff. What did Luhan know? He was used to being judged by strangers, but for some reason, he was especially bothered that Luhan was judging him. Maybe it was because Luhan was so beautiful. Junmyeon knew that he had a penchant for pretty faces.

Junmyeon sighed through his nose and tugged the bed covers up to his chin. He felt out of balance from how awkward the evening had been; normally, Junmyeon could breeze his way through a social situation, but Luhan had been so quiet and brooding, and Yifan and Yixing had always given him expectant looks as if they were waiting for him to open his mouth and fill the silence. Junmyeon shivered at the memory and rolled on his side. He hoped that Luhan wasn’t always so terrified of conversation.

Junmyeon closed his eyes and nestled down in the darkness. Maybe the night would look up; maybe he would have a dream about his soulmate, and maybe they would find each other soon. And yet, at the very thought, the demons rose out of the darkness and came to circle around his head, chewing away at his hope piece by piece, laughing at the tears that trickled down his face and sang him a song of despair.

Junmyeon had been hearing voices in head for several years now. Ever since his best friend, a kid named Kim Jongin, had moved away from their sleepy little town to go be with his soulmate in Seoul, the voices had whispered softly in Junmyeon’s ears. Often times, the voices were cruel and hateful towards him, reminding him of his short-comings, and telling him that he would never, ever find his soulmate. But sometimes, they could be kind. They would sing him soothing songs that would help him sleep on some nights, and Junmyeon often hummed the songs under his breath when he needed some comfort.

Right now, though, the voices were singing him a song of mourning. Junmyeon sighed and hoisted his backpack higher on to his shoulders as he walked down the quiet streets of his neighborhood towards his school. The melody drifting through his mind weighed heavily on his heart, and for a few moments, Junmyeon felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on his shoulders, dragging him down, down, down…

“Whoa!” A warm, slightly familiar voice

Junmyeon flinched backwards when a warm hand grabbed on to his arm and yanked him upright. Junmyeon hadn’t even realized he was falling forwards until he was pulled firmly into the person’s side.

“Are you alright—Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon stared blankly up at the person who had pulled him upright, and with a start, he realized that it was Luhan. Junmyeon hastily stepped out of Luhan’s hold and bowed in greeting. “Good morning, Luhan.”

“Are you alright? You look…tired.” Luhan gazed at him concernedly.

“I’m alright.” Junmyeon forced a smile on his face. “Thanks for catching me.”

Luhan was silent for a few moments, his gaze warm and serious as his eyes searched Junmyeon’s face; for what, Junmyeon wasn’t sure. At last, he finally looked away. “Take care to watch your step.”

“I will, thank you.” Junmyeon smiled tentatively at Luhan, but when it seemed that Luhan had nothing more to say, Junmyeon took a step forward. “Goodbye.”

“’Bye.” Luhan smiled and waved, and Junmyeon took that as his cue to turn away and continue on his walk to school.

Junmyeon wasn’t too worried about the incident just now. He had fainting spells every now and then because of his weak health.

Sometimes, Junmyeon wondered if the way he lived—with voices singing to him in his head, black-outs, breakdowns, etc.—was normal. But there was no one he was especially close to that he could ask; he was close to his cousins, but they were often in China. And what if it wasn’t normal—he didn’t want to disappoint his parents if that was the case.

Junmyeon hoisted his bag higher over his shoulder with a heavy sigh. He had to steel himself to get ready for school, and to become someone else; someone who wasn’t waiting for their soulmate, someone who had close-to-perfect grades, someone who was on the edge of a bright future—that was his life at school. Junmyeon stopped walking for a moment and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, nothing had changed. He was still Kim Junmyeon, a paradox of two personalities, and he still had a school day to face, and no soulmate in sight. Junmyeon sighed heavily and began walking again; he had really hoped that closing his eyes and imagining would work this time.

“Junmyeon!” A high-pitched voice pierced his ears over the sea of hundreds of separate conversations happening in the school cafeteria.

Junmyeon automatically pasted a smile on to his face as he turned towards the source of the call. He quickly spotted the familiar face of Joohyun, a girl in the year below him.

Joohyun waved him over enthusiastically. Junmyeon glanced around and was surprised to realize that Joohyun was sitting all by herself; normally she hung out with a group of four or five other girls in her year.

“Where’re all your friends, Joohyun?” Junmyeon looked around curiously.

“Well, hello to you too, Junmyeon.” Joohyun pouted at him for a moment, but then her face burst back into a brilliant smile. “They’ll be here in a little bit. But I just wanted to ask you something before they all show up.”

“Ask away,” Junmyeon said distractedly, his eyes flying up to the clock. He had to eat his lunch quickly and then go meet with one of his teachers to discuss a paper that he’d turned in—

“Junmyeon, will you go to the school dance with me?”

Junmyeon nearly dropped his lunch tray, and his eyes instantly flew back to Joohyun. She gave him a confident stare in return.

“I beg your pardon?” Junmyeon said at last, when it became clear that Joohyun wasn’t going to say anything.

“Was there something you didn’t understand?” A hint of ice crept on to Joohyun’s features.

“Joohyun, why are you asking me to the dance? Shouldn’t you be going with your soulmate?” Junmyeon frowned at her. Joohyun’s soulmate was a guy named Kim Jongdae in her year; Jongdae was a nice guy with a cute smile and an obnoxious laugh. Were they having a fight? Or…

Something flickered in Joohyun’s features, and Junmyeon felt his heart sink. “Alright,” he sighed. “Who put you up to this? Was it Camille again? Or was it Taeyang?”

“What?” Joohyun frowned in confusion. “Wait, no, Junmyeon, this isn’t them trying to make fun of you again, I swear!”

“So then why aren’t you going with Jongdae to the dance?” Junmyeon sighed. “I really hope you’re being honest about this Joohyun.”

A cool voice cut into the conversation. “Oh, Junmyeon, I couldn’t help overhearing you and Joohyun.” Camille, a girl a year older than Junmyeon who always wore fake blue contacts and had her glossy black hair curled into perfect ringlets, sneered down at him. “You should be happy Joohyun is asking you. Isn’t it just so thoughtful of her?” Camille smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “I hope I see you two together at the dance. You two would make such a cute couple.” And with that, she flounced away, her glossy black ringlets bouncing prettily against her back.

Junmyeon glanced back at Joohyun, who looked sick to her stomach. “Well.”

“Junmyeon, please believe me, Camille had nothing to do with this,” Joohyun said pleadingly. “I swear, I’m just asking you to go with me.”

“You haven’t said why you won’t go with Jongdae yet—not that it matters,” Junmyeon said quickly, collecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go with you Joohyun. I’m sure Jongdae is expecting to go with you, and I wouldn’t want to interfere with that.” Junmyeon gave her a brisk smile and ignored the tears that were welling up in Joohyun’s eyes. “I’ll see you later.” He turned away and hurried off to scarf down his lunch in a corner of the cafeteria, safely out of the eyes of anyone he might know. He watched Joohyun’s friends flock over to her table and gather around her, and he vaguely wondered if they were comforting her, or if they were giggling over how clever they thought Camille was.

He didn’t know why Camille insisted on making him feel excluded all the time. They didn’t have any kind of bad history, and Camille herself was well-off with her older soulmate who was currently attending college in a coast city. He didn’t know if knowing why Camille acted cruelly towards him would help with the pain though; every day that Camille reminded him that he was alone, the loneliness and isolation just got worse and worse.

Junmyeon closed his eyes for a moment and tried to listen for the invisible voices that spoke to him. Would they hold some comfort for him?

You’ll always be alone, someone hissed in his right ear.

Junmyeon jumped and banged his knee on the table. He looked around frantically, his eyes watering from the pain, but saw no one near his table.

You’re not worth being someone’s soulmate the voice whispered again. You’ll never find them, and they don’t even want to find you.

Junmyeon blinked back the tears in his eyes and settled down to scarf down his lunch. He got up mechanically from his seat, picked up his bags, put his tray in the disposal area and left the cafeteria. He began to walk upstairs towards his English teacher for his meeting. Inexplicably, tears began to well up in his eyes as he walked—but Junmyeon just brushed them away with the edge of his sleeve and forced a smile on to his face as he entered his classroom.

The days carried on in a similar fashion, and days turned into weeks, turned into months. Junmyeon had hoped that he would see more of his cousins, but Yixing was always wrapped up in studying for his exams, and Yifan had gone back to China for a few weeks to be with his fiancée. His aunt and uncle dropped by for dinner sometimes, and the Xiaos had also stopped by a couple of times.

Unfortunately, Luhan hadn’t grown any less awkward as they spent more time together. Junmyeon had been surprised that Luhan also hadn’t found his soulmate yet; he had been so hopeful that he would have someone to turn to when he was lonely! But right after Luhan had told him, Luhan had suddenly grown more cold and distant than ever.

Junmyeon supposed that made sense. He would probably feel a little awkward too, if he just blurted out the fact that he didn’t have a soulmate to a stranger. But still, he couldn’t help feeling lonelier than ever—it had seemed as if his salvation was right within his grasp, only to be ripped away from him.

Junmyeon had briefly entertained the idea that he and Luhan might be soulmates. But they had known each other for months now, and Junmyeon doubted that they had any deeper connection. Soulmates usually knew who their match was right after they met, and Junmyeon hadn’t felt anything the first time he met Luhan.

Junmyeon rolled over on his bed and buried his face in his comforter. He half-heartedly wished that he had been able to fall asleep earlier so that he wasn’t stuck lying in the dark, turning his thoughts over and over in his head. Loneliness gnawed at his heart and his mind, and Junmyeon quietly rubbed away the tears on his cheeks with his sleeve.

Moonlight shone through a crack in his curtains, and a glint of metal shone from his desk. Junmyeon’s eyes zeroed in on the sight, and he went very still when he realized that the moonlight was illuminating his shaving razor from where he’d dropped it as he rushed out of his room for school that morning.

Everything hurt so badly. He just wanted it to stop—a distraction, something to punish himself for being so worthless—

Junmyeon had gotten out of bed before he quite realized what he was doing. He quietly walked over to his desk and picked up his razor, surveying the shiny blade in the quiet moonlight. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of his desk and turned the razor over in his hands.

There were risks to doing this of course. He could get addicted, and wouldn’t want to stop. And there was the possibility that his soulmate was alive and well, living somewhere wanting to find him as much as he wanted to find them…

You think they’d want to find you?

Junmyeon flinched, and the cold metal of the razor slid against his hand. Junmyeon blinked in surprise when the cut began to sting and blood began to well up around the edges. It was only a small cut, but the pain was a distraction. For the first time, Junmyeon began to feel his concentration tugging away from his loneliness.

Try it again, a voice whispered softly in his ear. Don’t worry about anything else, just try it again.

Junmyeon frowned. He should be worried—no matter what the voice had to say, what if his soulmate really was worried for him? His soulmate would bear the same scars on his or her arms, and…

TRY IT AGAIN the voices in his head chorused. AGAIN, AGAIN, TRY IT AGAIN…

Well that was odd. The voices almost never spoke in unison; Junmyeon knew that he shouldn’t trust them and that he should think this through, but the sting of the cut had been such a delicious distraction…

Junmyeon rolled his left sleeve up and placed the razor blade against the pale skin of his inner arm. His hands trembled with anticipation, and then he pressed lightly, and then a little harder when the skin didn’t break.

Beads of red welled up on his arm, and Junmyeon winced as the pain of the cut hit him. It wasn’t a very deep cut; but it was a cut nonetheless, and Junmyeon stared at his arm in fascination.

Suddenly, an owl hooted outside, and the spell was broken. Junmyeon stared in horror at the blood on his arm, and quickly dropped the razor back on to his desk. What had he done?

He quietly crossed his bedroom and opened the door, carefully listening for if his parents were awake. When he was satisfied with the quiet of the house, he quietly left his bedroom and entered the bathroom. He washed the blood off of his arm, put some disinfectant on the cuts and wrapped the one on his forearm in gauze. He crept back into his room, closed the curtains with a firm finality and went to bed, the cut burning on his arm as he burrowed under his blankets.

And yet, the pain was such a sweet distraction from his isolation. Junmyeon closed his eyes and buried his face in his comforter, determined to block out the voices from his head, and any untoward thoughts about cutting.

And yet, he knew that the following night, he would be tempted to try again.

A few weeks passed since the night when he’d first tried to cut. Junmyeon had tried not to keep doing it, but it felt so good to not just feel lonely, and he hadn’t been strong enough to resist the temptation to try again. There were now multiple cuts hidden under the sleeves of his school uniform, and Junmyeon was getting better at carrying his books in a way that didn’t irritate the cuts.

Junmyeon was returning home from school one day, and his head was in the clouds. He was thinking about how his mother had told him that Aunt Yuri and Mrs. Xiao were coming over for dinner tonight, and how she wanted him to help her clean the house. How was he going to hide his cuts from her? He didn’t like cleaning in long-sleeve shirts, especially as the days grew warmer.

“Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon paused at the call of his name. He turned around towards the source of the voice and blinked in surprise when he saw Luhan jogging towards him. “Luhan?”

“Hey.” Luhan gave him an uneasy smile, and Junmyeon blinked in confusion. “Uh…I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner at my house today. We haven’t talked in a while.”

“Today?” Junmyeon blinked in surprise. Luhan had been so standoffish in the past few months…this wasn’t making any sense. “I suppose I could come.”

“Great.” Luhan gave him another uneasy smile. “So I’ll see you at my house around…seven? Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.” Junmyeon smiled back at him and waved as Luhan jogged back in the direction he’d come from. Luhan was dressed in athletic shorts and an old t-shirt; Junmyeon vaguely wondered if he was going off to the park to play soccer with someone. Or maybe he was just jogging by himself—it hardly mattered, after all. Junmyeon shook his head and continued on his walk home. What could Luhan possibly want to talk about? Especially since he’d never wanted to talk about much in the first place.

Junmyeon went home. He reluctantly pulled a long-sleeve shirt over his head and helped his mother to clean the house, protesting that he felt too cold without one when she asked him about it. He got permission from her to go to Luhan’s house, and for the rest of the afternoon, that was all he could think about. Why on earth did Luhan want to talk to him, much less have dinner with him?

Junmyeon left his house and walked over to Luhan’s, passing Mrs. Xiao on the way over. He spoke with her briefly for a few minutes, and then hurried on his way. He was practically dying of curiosity, and he also kind of wanted to get the evening over with as quickly as possible. He knocked sharply on Luhan’s front door and took a step back as he waited for Luhan to answer.

After a few moments later, there was the sound of something rattling inside, and then Luhan opened the door. Junmyeon was surprised when a genuine smile appeared on Luhan’s face. “You came!”

“Were you expecting me not to?” Junmyeon asked as he stepped inside. He took of his shoes and looked around the hall curiously, not really expecting an answer.

Luhan coughed awkwardly and shuffled his feet. “…I thought you might not. I know that it’s really been a while since we’ve talked.”

“Well, I’m here now.” Junmyeon looked away from a painting of violets hanging on the wall, and he smiled at Luhan. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

Luhan looked at him with an indiscernable expression for a moment, but then his face quickly broke out into a sunny grin. “Let’s eat dinner, shall we? The kitchen’s this way. Mom made something for us right before she left.”

“Sure.” Junmyeon smiled and obediently followed Luhan into the kitchen. He tugged absent-mindedly at his sweater sleeve as the warmth of the kitchen seeped into his clothing. “You have a nice house.”

“Thanks.” Luhan smiled at him and handed him a bowl. “There’s a bowl full of chicken and rice noodles on the stove. You can go ahead and serve yourself.”

“Thank you.” Junmyeon self-consciously took the bowl from Luhan and began filling it with food. An awkward silence started to set in, and Junmyeon frantically scrambled for something to say as the silence stretched on.

Luhan beat him to it. “Aren’t you feeling a bit warm, Junmyeon? Don’t you want to take your sweater off?”

Junmyeon flinched and nearly dropped his bowl as he carried it over to the small table in Luhan’s kitchen. “N-no!” Junmyeon set the bowl down and tried to gather his composure. “I mean, I feel fine.”

Luhan gave him an odd look. “Whatever you want.” Luhan came and sat down across from him.

Junmyeon sat down and picked nervously at his food. Luhan was eating with gusto and didn’t seem to feel awkward at all, but Junmyeon could feel curiosity eating away at him, until at last, he had to set his chopsticks down. “Luhan?”

“Yeah?” Luhan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Is the food alright? You’ve barely eaten anything. I can get you something else, if you want.”

“No, no, don’t worry about that. It’s just…” Junmyeon took a deep breath and folded his hands together in his lap. “Why am I here? You barely even talk to me anymore, and this just feels kind of…weird.”

Luhan’s face darkened for a moment, and Junmyeon began to worry that he’d been too forward. But just when Junmyeon was about to open his mouth and retract his question, Luhan suddenly sighed deeply.

“I was hoping that eating something would put you at ease make things a little less awkward,” Luhan chuckled. “I guess it didn’t really work though.”

“No, I mean—“ Junmyeon tried to interject, mortified at the thought that Luhan might think that he was complaining.

“No, don’t worry, I feel pretty awkward too.” Luhan smiled at him, and Junmyeon blinked at how lovely Luhan’s face was. “I…there’s something I need your help with.”

“You need my help?” Junmyeon gaped in astonishment. “What could I possibly help you with?”

“It’s about soulmates.” Luhan shifted in his seat, and Junmyeon felt his confusion grow as Luhan seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable. “We both haven’t met our soulmate yet, right?”

“That’s right.”  Junmyeon felt a twinge of bitterness. “What of it?”

Luhan opened his mouth, and then closed it. He opened it again, and then shook his head. “I think…well, just hold on a moment.”

Junmyeon stared, absolutely nonplussed as Luhan suddenly started pulling his sweater over his head. “Luhan? What are you—”

Junmyeon stopped talking when he saw Luhan’s bare arms. They were covered in white gauze, and Junmyeon began to feel light-headed when Luhan wordlessly slid some of the bandages away to reveal bright red cuts on his skin.

Luhan chuckled somewhat bitterly. “Like I was saying. I think that…well, I think that my soulmate is cutting themselves.”

Junmyeon stared at Luhan’s arm, the world spinning around him as the red welt stared accusingly up at him. He’d cut in that exact same place on his own arm this morning, and Luhan had a cut there too? It was likely that cutters tended to cut on the same parts of their arms or legs, but…

“I don’t know what to do.” Luhan slid the bandage back up over the cut, his eyes sharp with terror and anguish. “My soulmate must be hurting so badly if they’re doing this to themselves, and I’m so useless, I can’t even try and find them.”

Junmyeon put a hand on the table to steady himself. He’d thought that there was absolutely no way that he and Luhan were soulmates, but—could it really be? Luhan stared at him expectantly for a moment, but then realized how pale Junmyeon looked. “Junmyeon? Are you ok? Oh my god, I’m so sorry I probably shouldn’t have shown you that.”

Junmyeon gripped the table tightly, ignoring Luhan’s panicked ramblings. “Luhan.”

“What?” Luhan looked at him intently.

“Are there any other cuts? On your legs?”

Luhan hesitated a moment before answering. “…Yeah. They’re on both arms, and there are some on my thighs too.”

Junmyeon bit his lip, lost in thought. Should he risk it? What if he was wrong? Then Luhan would probably never talk to him again, and would do what any normal person would do, and get as far away from Junmyeon as possible.

But what if he was right?

Junmyeon listened for the voices in his head, but they were oddly silent. There was no music, there was no latent whispering—there was dead silence in his head for the first time in fifteen years, which made Junmyeon terrified, but almost certain that he was making the right choice.

Junmyeon suddenly began pulling his sweater of his head, revealing his bare arms. He didn’t wrap any of his cuts, and the red lines and raised scar tissue stood out starkly against the pale skin of his arms.

Luhan’s eyes widened in shock. “You…”

Junmyeon swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. “Yeah.”

Luhan was silent for a few moments. “…those cuts are in the exact same places as mine.”

Junmyeon braved himself to look up and across the table, and flinched when he saw Luhan suddenly stand up and walk over to his side of the table. Luhan stood beside him and pulled his gauze down to reveal his left arm. He put his arm next to Junmyeon’s, and the scars and cuts were in the exact same places.

Junmyeon couldn’t bring himself to look at Luhan, his shoulders starting to tremble with fear. He waited for the inevitable rejection, for Luhan to be hurt and angry with him, for Luhan to hit him and shout at him to never come back—

Junmyeon flinched and nearly knocked his chair over when he felt Luhan lean down and pull him into a soft hug. “Luhan?”

“Junmyeon,” Luhan breathed lightly into his hair. Junmyeon relaxed into the hug, melting into Luhan’s warmth.

After a few moments, Luhan let go, and Junmyeon turned in his chair so that they were facing each other.

“So it’s you.” Luhan looked down at him, and Junmyeon wasn’t surprised to see all sorts of emotions flickering through Luhan’s eyes. “Or, at least, it seems like it’s you.”

“How could I trick you about something like this?” Junmyeon looked away from Luhan’s face and swallowed heavily. A heavy, unbreakable silence rested over them as Luhan stared at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon stared down at the floor.

At last, Junmyeon couldn’t take it any longer. He suddenly grabbed his sweater from his lap and pulled it over his head in jerky movements. He hastily stuffed his hands into the sleeves and stood up, his hands shaking with terror as he still refused to look at Luhan.

“I’m sorry. I’ll—I understand that you don’t want someone like me. I’m—I’m sorry,” Junmyeon stuttered out, tears b in his eyes as he stood in front of Luhan. I’m sorry I cut. I’m sorry that we’ll both bear the scars from this. I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—

“Wait a moment, Junmyeon.” Luhan stopped him from leaving with a warm hand on his arm. “I don’t—I do want you. I’m—I can understand why you cut. It was so painful, not knowing and being lonely for so long. Actually, when you started cutting, I—“ Luhan stopped speaking for a moment and chuckled darkly. “…It felt good. I knew why you were doing it.”

Junmyeon could barely breathe. Why hadn’t Luhan thrown him out yet? No one wanted a broken soulmate, much less a broken friend.

The voices suddenly came back into his head, rushing in and whispering hateful words of pain and deceit. Junmyeon cried out in surprise, and then pain as his head began to throb sharply. He crouched down whimpered in pain as the demons crept out from the corners of his mind and began to howl.

“Junmyeon? Junmyeon, what’s wrong?” Luhan crouched down by Junmyeon’s side, his eyes wide with worry.

Junmyeon just clutched his head and whimpered. Luhan would throw him out soon, he should prepare for the heartbreak, what was he doing clutching his head as the voices screamed at him to GO DIE YOU WORTHLESS BOY, WHO WOULD WANT YOU—YOU, BROKEN LITTLE YOU, FOR A SOULMATE?

Junmyeon keeled over on his side, his hands still clutching at his head. The last thing he was aware of was a warm hand gently touching his cheek, and a panicked voice shouting for help.

Junmyeon woke up in a world of white. Everything was white—the walls, the chair at his bedside, his bedsheets, the flowers growing outside of the window. There was even a woman dressed in white, holding a clipboard and sitting at his bedside.

Junmyeon made a small noise of discomfort when he felt a sudden throb of pain in his ribs, he automatically reached towards his abdomen and winced when he touched a tender spot. It almost felt as if his ribs were—

“Bruised.” The woman with a clipboard gave him a kind smile and gently moved his hand away. “You took quite a spill and bruised your entire left side.”

“Oh.” Junmyeon kept his hand where the woman had put it at his side. “Um…where am I? And who’re you?”

“I’m Doctor Wong.” The woman smiled at him. “You’re in the hospital because you fell. Your soulmate was quite worried about you.”

Junmyeon opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t found his soul mate yet, but then he remembered about Luhan. Tears instantly welled up in his eyes and he shut his mouth tightly at the thought. There was no way that Luhan had been worried about him—Luhan should have rejected him by now, after seeing what he had done. Who was this woman really? Had he been kidnapped? What was going on?

“Would you like to see your soulmate?” Doctor Wong asked kindly, her warm eyes narrowing slightly with worry. “He’s in the waiting room right now. You can see him for a few minutes before I discuss your treatment with you.”

Junmyeon debated for a few moments, and then slowly shook his head. Maybe this lady couldn’t be trusted—but between the choice of having been kidnapped, and being forced to face Luhan, Junmyeon knew what he would choose.

“Very well.” Doctor Wong reached out and gave him a comforting pat on his knee. “Well, as I said before, you fell quite heavily on your side. You have bruises running all up your left leg. Your soulmate also said that the two of you have numerous cuts on your arms and legs.”

Junmyeon froze, a cold sweat sticking to the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry. Your soulmate explained that you had only discovered each other a few hours ago.” Doctor Wong gave him a kind smile, and Junmyeon felt tears welling up again.

“Do you know…I also found my soulmate quite late,” Doctor Wong said softly, her gaze shifting away from Junmyeon’s face to the window by his bedside. “I didn’t find my soulmate until I was twenty-five.”

Junmyeon sniffled a little as a tear escaped from his eyes and slowly trailed down his cheek.

“I also cut,” Doctor Wong said suddenly, her gaze swinging back to Junmyeon. “It was such a sweet distraction from the loneliness. I also did drugs, and I drank a fair amount. But I found my soulmate, like I said. And when I met him, I was so worried that he would hate me for all the things I had done. We would both bear my scars, and I felt so irreparably broken when I met him. I thought he would hate me. I thought that he would reject me.” Doctor Wong sighed slowly, her hand tightening slightly on Junmyeon’s knee.

“D-did he?” Junmyeon whispered softly, as another warm tear coursed down his cheek.

Doctor Wong was silent for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, he didn’t.” She gave Junmyeon a warm look. “He didn’t reject me. He loved me, and he knew that he was born to love me. And he didn’t his best to understand me and help me get better, and to recover from those twenty-five years of loneliness.” Doctor Wong smiled gently at Junmyeon. “You must trust your soulmate to love you, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon stayed silent, letting his tears trickle down his cheeks without trying to wipe them away. How could he trust Luhan to love him? He and Luhan hadn’t even recognized their connection to each other, let alone believed that they were meant to love each other.

Doctor Wong patted his knee, and then retracted her hand with a soft sigh. “After those twenty-five years, my soulmate had me go see a doctor. It turned out that I had severe depression. I had severe self-esteem and psychological issues, even to the point where I could hear voices in my head.”

Junmyeon startled, his eyes darting up to Doctor Wong’s face. “V-voices?”

“Yes, voices.” Doctor Wong looked at him steadily. “Do you hear them too?”

Junmyeon nodded vigorously. “Yes.” Then, he bit his lip. “That’s…that isn’t normal, is it?”

Doctor Wong looked away, and Junmyeon had his answer. “What do I need to do? Am I depressed too?” Junmyeon’s throat suddenly tightened, and he couldn’t speak for a few moments.

Doctor Wong took the opportunity to speak without interruptions. “You might be depressed. I’ll schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist for you,” she said gently. “Even though your physical injuries are minimal, and should heal in a few days, I’ve requested that you remain at the hospital until we can assess the mental health of you and your soulmate.”

Junmyeon’s eyes widened. “Mental health? For both of us? I thought that it was only physical injuries that could affect Luhan.” His mind began to spin with panic—had it been his fault, then, that Luhan had felt lonely too? Had any of what he’d thought or the voices, the voices, the cruel voices, had they carried over to Luhan too?

“You’re right. Your mental conditions will be separate. Don’t worry, your own mental stability should not have affected your soulmate’s. But Junmyeon, consider this—your soulmate was probably just as lonely as you were. He might have his own issues as well.”

Junmyeon bit his lip in thought. Now that he was less panicked, he remembered Luhan saying that when Junmyeon had cut, the cuts had felt good.

There was a sudden twinge of pain in his side, and Junmyeon winced in discomfort. He suddenly realized that Luhan must also have the bruises and feel sore as well. “You said Luhan is outside? But he must also be hurt, right?”

“Luhan recovered much more quickly than you did. He insisted on waiting for you, but we’ll take him back to his room after he sees you.” Doctor Wong smiled slightly. “He was very insistent on seeing you. He even threatened to kick his nurse in the balls if he tried to stop him from leaving.”

Junmyeon laughed in surprise; that seemed nothing like the shy, awkward Luhan he’d gotten to know.

“Although,” Doctor Wong continued, her smile fading slightly, “Your families have also been notified, and are also waiting to see you.”

“Oh.” Junmyeon stiffened. “Do they—do they know? About the cuts?”

“I have already spoken with them.” Doctor Wong’s eyes softened with pity. “However, Junmyeon—your parents love you very much. They responded with concern and sadness, but not hatred.”

“I see.” Junmyeon blanked out, his gaze resting quietly on his knees. He had never anticipated his parents finding out that he cut, much less in such a dramatic way.

Doctor Wong got to her feet. “As I said before, I’ve requested that you stay overnight and see a clinical psychiatrist tomorrow morning. You have several visitors waiting for you outside—shall I let them in? Or would you prefer to be alone now?”

Junmyeon sighed heavily. He was going to face them eventually, and he knew that his fear would only grow the longer he waited. “I’ll see them. Thank you very much, Doctor Wong.”

“It’s no trouble. I’ll see you in the morning, Junmyeon.” And with that, Doctor Wong walked out of the room.

A few moments after Doctor Wong left, Luhan burst in through the doors. Junmyeon startled, his hands flying up automatically to protect himself from anything that was coming at him. Junmyeon peeked out from behind his hands after a moment, and was both relieved and nervous to see Luhan flop into the chair at his bedside.

“Junmyeon.” Luhan reached out and tenderly took Junmyeon’s hands away from his face. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

Junmyeon flinched away from Luhan’s gentle touch. He was still waiting for Luhan to reject him, afraid that a touch would make him hope for something he couldn’t have.

Luhan was undeterred. “Junmyeon. Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to reject you, or throw you away. I’ve been waiting for you for twenty years. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that it was you, but I know now, and just—I’m never going to let you go after this. Never. You’ll always have me, and I’ll always want you, no matter what happens.”

Junmyeon felt tears running down his face for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the span of a few minutes. “L-Luhan…”

“It’s been hard on both of us,” Luhan continued earnestly, leaning forward and gently taking Junmyeon’s hand in his own again. “But I want to be there for you. And I think that we can do this together.”

Together. Junmyeon froze, startled by how powerfully the word struck him. For his entire life so far, he’d been so used to doing things alone. But to have someone at his side…

“Thank you.” The words slipped out of Junmyeon’s mouth before he realized it.

Relief spread across Luhan’s face and he squeezed Junmyeon’s fingers in response. Junmyeon shyly squeezed back, his fears that Luhan would throw him away diminishing by the second. Of course, there was still some distrust. Junmyeon doubted that that distrust would go away anytime soon because of how deeply rooted it was in his very nature, but it was good to know that things were already starting to look up.

Luhan stayed for another half hour, simply holding hands with Junmyeon and comforting each other as they both worried about what the future would bring. Luhan admitted that while he didn’t hear voices in his head and didn’t have suicidal thoughts, he didn’t know if his mind was really all in one piece.

“But no matter what happens to us, Junmyeon, we’ll stick together. I’m always here for you, you have to trust me,” Luhan said seriously as he stood up to go.

“The same goes for you,” Junmyeon responded softly. “I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes for the two of us to get…better.

Luhan gave him a soft smile and left. A few minutes later, his parents came in. Any comfort that Junmyeon had felt from Luhan vaporized into thin air the moment he saw the shell-shocked look on his mother’s face. His parents came to sit quietly at his bedside, and didn’t have much to say. They told him that they still loved him, and that they would support him as he tried to heal, and that he and Luhan had their full support. Junmyeon saw them glance surreptitiously at the sleeves of his hospital gown from time to time, but they never asked to see the scars, and they left quickly with the promise that they would be back in the morning.

After his parents left, a nurse came in with a tray of food and took several readings of pulse, weight, and temperature before telling him that someone would be there to call him in the morning in time for his appointment. The nurse waited until he was done eating, and then turned out the lights and closed the door behind him. Junmyeon sat in the darkness, half-heartedly looking around for the glint of something sharp to cut with, but then tamped down the desire and lay back in bed. He was here to get better, not to keep putting Luhan through his pain.

The voices had been relatively quiet in his head all day. Junmyeon wondered at that, but he could only feel relieved when he closed his eyes and rested his head on his pillow, and sweet sleep swept over him without any cutting mockery.

One year later...

“Luhan! Luhan! Luhaaaaaaan!” Junmyeon called out as he entered his boyfriend’s apartment. Junmyeon pouted slightly when he didn’t get a response, but just as he was about to open his mouth to call out for his soulmate, a slightly amused-looking man popped into the hallway.

“Luhan just went outside to pick up some snacks from the convenience store. He should be back in a minute.

Junmyeon blushed bright red. Luhan shared an apartment with Yifan and two other men living in the city, whom Junmyeon wasn’t very familiar with, and often embarrassed himself in front of them. “I’m sorry Changmin. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“No worries.” Changmin gave him a friendly smile and disappeared back into the hallway. Junmyeon opted to wait on the edge of the sofa as he waited for Luhan to return.

Just as Changmin promised, within a minute, the sound of the door open sounded through the apartment. Junmyeon got to his feet and gave Luhan his best smile when Luhan entered the common area.

“Junmyeon!” Luhan set down the plastic convenience store bags at his feet and opened his arms to pull Junmyeon into a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“I found a shorter way to get here,” Junmyeon said into Luhan’s shoulder. He drew back after a moment and looked at Luhan with a worried expression. “I hope I’m not imposing.”

“I only wish that I could’ve been here to greet you,” Luhan said with a warm smile, and reluctantly let go of Junmyeon’s slim shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, you’re not a bother.”

“Okay.” Junmyeon reached down and picked up one of Luhan’s plastic bags. “Let me help you put things away.”

“Alright.” Luhan picked up the other bags and ushered Junmyeon into the kitchen. “You just came back from therapy with Doctor Park, right? How was it?”

“It went well! Doctor Park said that I’ve been making a lot of improvement. The new drugs have also been helping me keep my head under control.” The couple began sorting through Luhan’s purchases to place them in different cupboards. Ever since they had both visited a psychiatrist a year ago, they had both been taking counseling and therapy sessions. They had both been improving, and Junmyeon was happy to say that he had been stable for nearly a month straight now. It had been rough, at first—it had been difficult to wrap his head around the idea that Luhan would still love him and that he wasn’t worth it. But once he had gotten over that hurdle, and had also started taking medications to keep his mental health under control, he had been getting better and better.

They sorted through the rest of the purchases, keeping up a light banter about how Junmyeon’s classes had gone, how Luhan’s job was going, about Luhan’s upcoming dance performance, and about how he wanted Junmyeon to sing for him sometime.

“Changmin says that you have a voice like an angel. It isn’t fair that I haven’t heard it yet,” Luhan whined to him. Junmyeon blushed at the memory from two months ago; he’d thought that everyone was out and had started singing quietly in the living room while he waited for Luhan to return. Unfortunately, Changmin had been home and had come out of his room to investigate the source of the noise.

“Maybe another time,” Junmyeon hedged, looking down shyly at the kitchen counter. Singing was still something he was nervous about; singing was very much a way of expressing himself, and even though he and Luhan were very open with each other, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give away this last part of his thoughts

“Alright. No pressure though,” Luhan said, and gave him a light pat on the elbow. “Anyways, do you want to go out for dinner today? There’s a new Thai place that opened up down the street.”

“That sounds fun.” Junmyeon smiled up at Luhan and stood on his toes to kiss Luhan’s cheek. “You don’t need to rest or anything before we go?”

If Luhan noticed the pink tint on Junmyeon’s cheeks, he didn’t say anything. “I’m fine. Let’s just go now, I’m so hungry.” And with that, before Junmyeon quite realized what was happening, he was being dragged down the street for dinner.

Junmyeon and Luhan were moving pretty slowly. Even though they were eager to know each other, and to quench the drought of loneliness that had been afflicting their hearts, they both also knew that the other wasn’t necessarily whole, and they didn’t want to push any buttons or pull any cracks that might cause the other to fall apart. Luhan had always been kind and gentle to him, and the farthest they’d ever gone was some intense making out on the couch without taking their clothes off. Junmyeon really appreciated that he’d ended up with a guy like Luhan. Luhan was always attentive to his feelings, and always going out of his way to make Junmyeon comfortable.

They lived in the same city, but in different apartments. Their parents had seemed a little relieved at their choice to live separately (they’d giggled about the matching looks of relief on their parents’ faces when they’d announced their plans) and had been fully supportive of the match. Junmyeon was now enrolled in a university in the big city, and Luhan had been accepted into a small entertainment company where he was training to sing and dance, and to just become a better performer.

Junmyeon squeezed Luhan’s hand tightly as they threaded their way through the bustling sidewalks. He was so grateful for Luhan. He still felt guilty about the matching scars on their bodies, especially since now, if he had known that he would be this happy a year ago, he never would have tried cutting.

“Junmyeon?”

“Hm?” Junmyeon looked over at Luhan.

Luhan gave him a knowing look. “Feeling guilty again?”

Junmyeon blushed bright red. “You always know what I’m thinking.”

“It’s because your face is an open book,” Luhan chuckled softly. He squeezed Junmyeon’s hand gently, and then tucked their entwined fingers into his coat pocket. “Don’t feel guilty, Junmyeon. It’s in the past.”

“I’m trying,” Junmyeon said truthfully. “It’s just…” he trailed off into silence.

“I know.” Luhan gave him a reassuring look. “I know you’re trying.”

“Thanks,” Junmyeon said softly.

Without warning, Luhan suddenly stopped walking and leaned down to press a butterfly kiss to Junmyeon’s lips. Junmyeon jerked backwards and nearly tripped over the pavement in surprise; they usually never kissed in public. What was Luhan’s deal?

Luhan just smiled at him and tugged him closer before setting off again. Junmyeon nestled into his coat and tried to hide the heavy blush on his face. He loved Luhan, and he was so lucky that Luhan was his soulmate. He didn’t know how they’d missed the connection the first time they’d met. Perhaps they had just been too awkward to really have any conversation, and had missed the spark. But they were definitely soulmates, and Luhan was the kindest, most patient man that Junmyeon could ever ask for.

Luhan led him up the steps of a two-story building, and they quickly ducked out of the cold winter air and into the warm, oil-scented air of a small Thai restaurant. They waited for the waitress to seat them, and then they began to pick up their conversation from where it had left off at the apartment. Time flew by, and before they realized it, Junmyeon realized that he should head home soon before it became too dark. They parted ways with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to call the other once they were safely back. Junmyeon walked down the sidewalks of the city with a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, and a bounce springing in his step. It had taken a lot of pain, and many, many hardships to get to where he was now. He didn’t know if he would ever be fully healed, or if he would always be slightly cracked on the inside. But, in all honesty, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was, at the very least, he had his soulmate to spend his future with. And only happiness awaited him with Luhan.

Fin

a/n: So suhan found their happy ending! I hope that for all of us who have been through depression and have had these thoughts, that we can all find our own happiness <3 Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry this took so long to post huhu. Please wait patiently for more works from me in the future~