Wonshik watches from afar as the family that Taekwoon love so much, treasures so dearly, treats him like utter . How his sisters will snap at him if he even breathes in his direction, how his mother harshly berates him for not doing things properly no matter how well he does them, how his father ignores his existence, and when Taekwoon isn't looking, glares at him like he's a demon from hell.

Not that Wonshik's family treats him much better, but he doesn't care.

Meanwhile, he watches Taekwoon struggle, trying to do everything he can to gain their approval, and he just doesn't understand it. What's the point in trying to get people to like you if they obviously don't? Even if they're family . . . Family ties never meant much to Wonshik anyway.

He still manages to urge Taekwoon on anyway, if for no other reason than to have him stop looking so damn crestfallen, like a kicked puppy.

In the beginning, he thought Taekwoon was strong. He looked the part; tall, broad, surly and brooding. It wasn't until he found him crying in the bathroom at his own house that he realized something was wrong.

Taekwoon wasn't the easiest person to talk to and he didn't open up much either, but Wonshik was more curious rather than concerned, so from his persistence and annoyance, Taekwoon cracked.

That's when he started caring.

He thought it was different for Taekwoon, that Taekwoon was a spoiled brat with everyone at his beck and call.

But instead of surly and brooding, Taekwoon was self-conscious and introverted, tiny and insecure.

Before Wonshik even knew what he was doing, he began inviting Taekwoon out for football late at night or a smoke on his balcony. Taekwoon said no at first, surprised Wonshik even made the effort, but after enough insistence, he gave in. It just sort of became their routine after that.

With the haze of smoke and the burning in their lungs, Taekwoon opened up to him and Wonshik practically tripped into . . . whatever this thing was.

This thing; where they would sneak off from school even though they had studying to do and graduation to plan for, where they would hide in places no one would dream of looking, locked in their own little world of cigarette butts and terrible jokes, where they would just . . . relax.

And it was a thing Wonshik felt almost smug about. Taekwoon didn't do that for anyone else.

One thing he didn't feel smug or even remotely good about though was how hard Taekwoon tried to please his family, or even those around him. It was kind of gross, like a low form of grovelling and Wonshik wanted to beat it out of him because what was the point in trying to live for someone else, please someone else?

Taekwoon told him he didn't understand, and he really, really didn't. He didn't want to either and he wasn't afraid to tell Taekwoon that, who would storm off afterward and not talk to Wonshik for several days after.

Then he would come back, a text message, a muffled phone call, a meek knock on the door, with a new bruise, a new scar. He wouldn't have to say anything, and Wonshik would just let him in and invite him to the balcony for another smoke.

When they couldn't meet up at Wonshik's place, they went to the park or to the football fields or to convenience stores, anywhere that wasn't a place they lived. Taekwoon would sigh, buy some bandages because of course there was a reason they couldn't meet up at Wonshik's house.

They would sit in the middle of the vast field, legs crisscrossed and leaning into each other while Taekwoon applied bandages and salve to his face or too his arms or wherever Wonshik had provoked injury.

One such day, Taekwoon's face is too close and Wonshik's palms are weirdly sweaty, heart beating strangely fast. The setting sun reflects on Taekwoon's profile and Wonshik traces his eyes over every single dip and curve and how Taekwoon's hair is just a little too long and hides the top of his eyes, how his lips pout while he concentrates, the corner of his mouth pulling up when Wonshik makes a snarky joke.

Taekwoon's warm, soft hands are suddenly gone and Wonshik grabs at them, pulling them back, placing them back on his face and closing his eyes. His hands are better than any bandage or any healing balm and he wishes Taekwoon didn't have to get the same treatment he did.

And when Taekwoon presses his softest lips to his forehead, Wonshik knows he thinks the same about him.

hey but did you guys know: when LR's album comes out i'm gonna ing die :^)))

leave a comment writing my eulogy or what you think of the 8bits!