Jeonghan has been confined to his room for at least a week.

He has nearly died of boredom many times since.

Finally, the door opens, and he springs up, welcoming any company.

It’s Jun.

Jeonghan’s face falls, and he sits down on the bed carefully.

The corner of Jun’s mouth tilts up.

“You don’t have to be so careful with that, you know.”

“I know.”

Jun grits his teeth in silent frustration.

“What did you do?”

Jeonghan sneers in cold contempt.

“I thought you knew, oh Highest Emperor?” he asks scathingly.

Jun closes his eyes for a brief moment, collecting himself.

“I want to hear it from you.”

Jeonghan spares him a glance.

The boy’s face is blank but furious.

He likes it.

“You have no need to ask if you already know.”

Jun explodes, slamming his hand down on the bedspread.

On the dresser, a vase shatters, spraying the two with water.

But Jun is beyond caring.

“WHY WON’T YOU ING TALK TO ME??” he yells.

Pure fury shines in his demented eyes, and Jeonghan feels a spark of fear.

He opens his mouth, only to find that there is nothing to say.

Jun’s breath comes quick and heavy, and he jumps up.

Jeonghan is suddenly afraid that he will disappear out the door.

But he doesn’t.

He stays and destroys the room.

The carpet bursts, revealing cold stone tiles beneath.

The bathroom is flooded with sewer water from the toilet.

The pillows burst, surrounding Jeonghan with falling feathers.

The feathers do not stop, and Jun stops abruptly to glare at Jeonghan, who can only stare back.

Through the feathers, light as snow.

Falling, falling, all around.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Jun whispers agonizingly.

“I…” Jeonghan cannot find his voice, but his anguish must show.

Jun takes a slow step forward, through the feathers, still falling.

Falling, falling, just like his mind.

Jeonghan holds his intense gaze, through the feathers, still falling.

Falling, falling, just like his soul.

“Junhui,” he says, because he knows.

Jun does not seem surprised.

“You know,” he whispers.

“I know,” Jeonghan whispers back. “I’ve known.”

“Since when?”

“Forever.”

“Minghao.”

“Yes.”

Jun pauses, pain evident on his face.

“Is he…”

“I don’t know.”

Jeonghan’s voice is thick with emotion.

Jun’s gaze never wavers, but it does soften.

“Did Jisoo ever tell you,” he says softly. “About his brother?”

Jeonghan shakes his head slowly.

“Hansol,” Jun whispers. “Hansol was his brother.”

“Is he not still?”

“I don’t know.”

The corners of Jun’s mouth tilt up, and Jeonghan cannot help but smile softly.

This boy, this sarcastic, violently passionate boy…

Jun turns abruptly, jerking the door open, leaving.

Jeonghan is left alone in the room, shocked.

Around him, the feathers are still falling.

Falling, falling.

Falling.

Just like his heart.