Donghae pressed a pillow against his face. He didn’t want to hear that. Not again. However, sobs on the other side of a cold wall were too loud. Or the cold wall was too thin. Suddenly, there was nothing but silence. Yesung had probably come to the room, so it was safer to stop crying and pretend nothing had happened. It was safer to pretend everything was alright.

He didn’t understand the crying boy behind the cold wall. And he knew he would never do. He really tried, but he couldn’t. It was better to put the pillow back under his head and try to fall asleep, although he knew it was almost impossible… because the silence was even more painful than desperate crying.

 

He could hear the doorbell, but it took him a few seconds to realize what he was supposed to do. His sleepy eyes turned to the hallway. The alarm clock woke him up mercilessly just a while after he finally had fallen asleep. He moved, heading to the door. He was untidy and wearing just a t-shirt and his underwear, but it didn’t matter. Only one person could be behind the door at this hour.

He opened the door, finding his smiling neighbour. Heechul was holding two cups of coffee; his dark eyes were as gentle as ever. Donghae just frowned, inviting him in. Then he slammed the door. He was too tired and angry to act calm.

Heechul crossed the living room, putting cups on a coffee table and curiously looking at his friend. Of course, he noticed his mood. There was no way to miss something so clear.

“What happened?” he gave him another smile.

Donghae’s eyes darkened. He wasn’t sure, if he was even able to reply, because his throat was clenched with anger. He reached his friend and lifted his hand. For a moment, he had to fight sudden need to kill someone, when his friend instinctively flinched. He grabbed his chin, making him turn his head, so he could clearly see painful bruise on his neck, covered with cheap make-up.

“He did that again, didn’t he?” Donghae hissed.

Heechul frowned. “It’s… not what you think. He didn’t want to…”

“Sure, he never wants and then I can hear you cry every night!” Donghae shouted, even though he wanted to stay calm.

Heechul’s eyes found the floor. He didn’t move for a while, probably considering what to say. After that, he sat on a sofa, taking one of the cups. He pressed it against his chest, trying to find at least little comfort.

“You should drink it, you look tired,” he said quietly.

Donghae silently sat too, pressing his own cup. He really didn’t want to shout at him. But he couldn’t control himself, when it came to his friend and terrible things that was his boyfriend doing to him. He couldn’t be as silent as his friend. Why did Heechul love him anyway? And why did he believe Yesung still did love him back? If he did, he would never hurt him. If he did, he would treasure his smile, his gentle eyes, soft hair, beautiful body, delightful voice…

They were drinking without speaking.

“Would you like something for breakfast?” Donghae asked, already calmed down.

Heechul’s eyes found his friend. “Yeah, sure. I will make –“

“No.” Donghae interrupted him, standing up.

He rejected to support Yesung’s actions. Yesung made a tool of him – for cooking, cleaning and . And Heechul still didn’t want to leave, although his body was covered with bruises every day.

“,” he cursed, when his angry fingers pressed an egg too firmly, breaking fragile shell and spreading yellow substance all over the kitchen.

He sighed, cleaning the mess he had done. He put eggs to the pan, adding some bacon. If he was alone he wouldn’t try so hard, but he felt pretty strong urge to take care of Heechul no matter what. He wanted him to sit and just enjoy someone else caring. Donghae was upset even because of coffee Heechul was bringing him every morning. He didn’t know if it was his usual need to serve somebody or if he just wanted a few minutes to talk with someone he didn’t have to be afraid of.

He put both plates on the table. Heechul gave him another bright smile. Why didn’t he understand something like this shouldn’t be anything special? There was no need for his grateful smiles.

“You should get out.” Donghae mumbled.

Heechul raised his scared face, eyes turning to the door.

“You know what I mean.” Donghae corrected himself. “You should leave him.”

Heechul visibly relaxed, smiling. “I have already told you, haven’t I? It’s not as easy as you think. And he loves me.”

“Of course, he does. And one day, he’s gonna kill you from loving you so hard.” Donghae growled.

“That’s not true; he really cares about me… And he always regrets everything in the morning, apologizing. He suffers too, you know?”

“Yeah…”

Heechul was playing with his hair, smiling gently, and Donghae whined silently. He loved him so much. He sighed in resignation. It was useless. He knew Heechul wouldn’t listen to him. It didn’t matter how many times he tried. It didn’t matter how much he loved him.

“You’re such an idiot.”

 

Donghae whimpered, when he found out the elevator wasn’t working again. It was pain in the to drag shopping bags to fifth floor. Someone should finally call repairman.

He could hear screaming already in the third floor. His eyes found the floor, trying to ignore it, although there was no chance to mishear it. He could just break the door and kill him. Yesung’s death would solve all problems. He would hide his body in a freezer; no one would miss him… Okay, that wasn’t a good idea. And he should suppress cruel smile.

He finally reached his floor, looking for the keys. If Heechul didn’t plead him so much, he would call police long time ago. But he didn’t want to lose his trust. Donghae was the only person Heechul could depend on. He couldn’t betray him, even though he hated himself so much for just sitting there and watching.

“You’re just a !” someone shouted on the other side of the door, followed loud punch and cry.

Donghae dropped his keys.

“Yesung, I just –“

“Shut up!”

Donghae tried to unlock the door as fast as possible; he didn’t want to hear that again. He slammed to door, throwing bags to the floor. He ran to the bathroom, running water, shoving his head under the stream. It helped a little bit; he couldn’t hear them so clearly. It could drown the screams next door but there was no way it could drown echo in his head.