[fic] hello, goodbye (& the winter in between) [2/2]

[tsudzukeru]

Sehun’s graduation ceremony passes by in a flash, a jumble of congratulations, cheers, name announcements and speeches. A few idol graduates go on stage to accept bouquets and thank family, group members and classmates, but he doesn’t pay much attention as he turns in his seat, Cheongah pinching his arm to keep his attention on the stage, to look for his family and Joonmyun. He sees his family sitting in the seats for guests, a little further back, and finally spots Joonmyun standing at the side in the very back, holding a large bouquet. His gaze is on Sehun, not the stage, and he raises the bouquet slightly when Sehun waves. He doesn’t get to receive it from Joonmyun until right before he goes back home with his family, too caught up in his family’s congratulations, taking pictures with his friends and classmates, and sending some to the absent Jinri, to go to Joonmyun. His family goes ahead of him and tells him to meet them at the car, and he nods as he walks towards Joonmyun, taking the bouquet silently. Joonmyun pulls him in for a hug, whispering a low ‘congratulations’ into his ear, and Sehun hears Cheongah laughing behind them, which makes him blush, but he hugs Joonmyun back tightly like they’re the only two in the hall.

Joonmyun follows him to his father’s car afterwards, greeting Sehun’s family politely and declining their offer to drive him home by pointing out his own waiting older brother. Sehun turns in the car when they drive away, watching Joonmyun wave goodbye, getting smaller and smaller as they drive further away, and he turns to sit properly before Joonmyun disappears from view.

•

Joonmyun becomes cold and distant a few days after the graduation ceremony. It’s ironic that Joonmyun would act like this when Sehun’s graduated from high school, which had made Sehun young in Joonmyun’s eyes, instead of wanting to get even closer. He begins to avoid answering Sehun’s calls, and when he does answer, their conversations are short and stilted, nothing like the long calls they used to have when they couldn’t meet in person. Any attempts to meet are met with Joonmyun’s poor excuses, excuses Sehun knows are lies, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too afraid of bringing up the real reason behind Joonmyun’s behavior, no matter how angry he is that Joonmyun is acting like this, that he’ll stay quiet to keep their delicate relationship held together as long as he can.

•

Joonmyun suggests breaking up so casually that Sehun has to look up from his attempt to arrange the blanket properly around their legs to make sure he’s heard the older properly.

There’s a short moment of awkward silence before Joonmyun sighs and meets Sehun’s eyes with a strange look. Sehun frowns, trying to make sense of it. “Sehun, the more I think about it, the more I’m certain we won’t work out. I know I’m being a little sudden, but the age difference between us… I know you really well now, you’re not immature, but at the same time, you’re so young…”

“So you’re saying four years really matter that much to you?” Sehun asks, feeling a surge of anger rise. He’s always hated being treated like a child, like he was lesser because of his age, and now Joonmyun of all people was telling him this. “They didn’t matter before, why the sudden change of heart? Are you trying to find any excuse to get rid of me? You dated Jongin hyung and he’s not that much older than me.”

Joonmyun stiffens at the mention of Jongin, pulling up his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. The blanket slides off to the ground when he does this, and he shivers a tiny bit but hides it well. Sehun notices but resists the urge to cover the older boy with the blanket, the anger still strong. “Sehun, Jongin’s always been like a younger brother to me. The fact that we dated didn’t matter because we realized we were better off as friends, but you and me is different.”

Sehun can’t wrap his head around Joonmyun’s sudden change of heart. Joonmyun was picking at the strings of the hem of his sweater, avoiding Sehun’s eyes. “Hyung, tell me the real reason you want to break up, or I won’t leave you. I won’t accept it.”

Joonmyun doesn’t look up, wrapping a particularly long string around his index finger to tug it off. “I already did. I think you’re too young for me. I know I approached you first, but I think I was a bit too forward… I didn’t think… think it through. Being friends will be better in the long run for both of us, Sehun-ah.”

“I don’t want to be friends,” Sehun answers vehemently, startling Joonmyun by throwing the blanket off his legs. He moves so he’s on his knees directly in front of Joonmyun, staring straight at the older guy’s face. Joonmyun’s face is thin, even moreso than usual thanks to the gradual but noticeable weight loss, cheeks slightly sunken and eye bags dark. He doesn’t want to let Joonmyun go. “I want to decide for myself what I think, not let you decide the fate of our relationship on your own.”

“But if I don’t want to continue it, there is no relationship,” Joonmyun murmurs softly, looking down at the string wrapped around his finger. He doesn’t make any move to tug it off. Sehun hates the way Joonmyun doesn’t say anything else, leaving it up to him to figure out the unsaid on his own. He knows Joonmyun, but not enough to know what’s hidden in the silence. Defeat seeps into his blood with the realization Joonmyun didn’t plan on telling him either, didn’t trust him with the real reason, and he moves back, away from Joonmyun. Sehun stands up and knows Joonmyun isn’t looking at him while he picks up his things from around the apartment, his cell phone, his jacket, his gloves, the hoodie he always forgets to take home, everything he can carry, and heads towards the door.

He closes the door behind him slowly, committing the sound of the squeaking hinges to his memory. It’s probably the last time he’ll hear it, he tells himself as he squats down and places the spare key back underneath the welcome mat.

•

He finds himself in front of Joonmyun’s apartment door a few days later. The spare key isn’t under the welcome mat and Sehun stands in front of the door for a few minutes before he gathers the courage to ring the doorbell.

Joonmyun opens the door after a minute. He’s holding a half-empty glass of water in his left hand and his bangs are tied up away from his face, letting Sehun see the look of surprise clearly. “Sehun-ah….? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t break up like this, hyung,” Sehun says, trying to meet Joonmyun’s eyes, but failing. He can’t look Joonmyun in the eye and hand his heart over to be broken all over again. “If you really can’t accept us, even though you have all this while, please let me have one more time. Just one more and I’ll leave you alone like you want.”

“Is that all you really want?” Joonmyun asks. Sehun glances up at him, sees the weariness in his eyes, and nods. He doesn’t know why Joonmyun doesn’t want him, but he doesn’t want to question it and hurt even more. The only thing he wants is a proper goodbye that wasn’t Joonmyun ending their relationship so simply, as if it was a phase of his life he was ready to move on from. “I’m free in a couple of days. You can send me a message and I’ll be there. Is that okay?”

Sehun nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Joonmyun isn’t supposed to accept it so easily. Joonmyun isn’t supposed to still want to leave him. He wishes he hadn’t come and begged for another goodbye, but he’s still in front of Joonmyun, who is staring at him with sad eyes, and he has to face it all on his own. “I’ll… I’ll let you know.”

Joonmyun nods and stands still for a moment before he closes the door. Sehun stands still in front of the closed door and rearranges his thoughts, his feelings, or at least he tries to. He turns and walks down the hallway after a moment, neither thoughts nor feelings arranged, but he can’t bring himself to care.

•

Their last ‘date’ happens at N Seoul Tower on Valentine’s day. They go thirty minutes before closing time just because they can. The cable car ride to the top is almost unbearable-Sehun can sense Joonmyun’s hand beside his, pinkies brushing lightly against each other, but neither of them reach out and take the other’s hand, the break-up hanging in the air between them. The car shakes and slows to a stop just as Sehun is about to take Joonmyun’s hand anyway, the doors opening and the few couples with them heading out immediately. Joonmyun pushes himself off the railing and heads out first.

The view from the roof terrace is breathtaking; Sehun is awed by the sprawling lights, spread out as far as he can see, an ethereal glow illuminating the falling white snow. It’s unfair, he thinks as he leans on the railing and holds out both hands, supporting himself with his waist. The snowflakes melt on his palms and he can’t feel his fingers, but he closes them around his wet palms and pushes back the tears. He doesn’t want to look back to where Joonmyun is standing, watching him, because he can feel Joonmyun’s eyes on him and he can’t face them without feeling regret pull at him.

Hyung, come over here, he wants to say, but it doesn’t make it far, staying in his mind as a thought that won’t get anywhere. He wonders what it would feel like to fall into the lights with the falling snow, if he would break or float or feel nothing at all. He doesn’t know how far he’s leaned over, too absorbed in his thoughts, until he feels Joonmyun’s hand gripping his upper arm and pulling him back onto the platform and into reality.

Their eyes meet and Sehun remembers the first days at the café near his school, when he had first seen Joonmyun’s name on the cup, and if anything would have been different if he hadn’t cared past that point. Joonmyun lets go of his arm and takes a few steps to stand beside Sehun, breaking their eye contact to look at the city. “I didn’t-I’m not doing this to make you sad. That’s… that’s not what I want.”

“There’s no point in saying that if you’ve already done it,” Sehun says. He doesn’t want to hurt Joonmyun, but he’s beyond the point of caring when he’s faced with their inevitable break-up. It’s unfair he’s left with feelings Joonmyun thinks he’s too young for and Joonmyun is the one making excuses. The expression on Joonmyun’s face is much more honest than Sehun has seen in a while, so honest that he has to turn away to keep himself in check. “You don’t have to say anything, hyung. Let’s not be sorry for anything we’ve already done.”

“I’m still sorry, though,” Joonmyun says so sincerely that Sehun feels his heart ache. He turns around and watches a couple write their names on a tiny space on one of the many benches scattered around the terrace. He can feel Joonmyun turn and catch sight of the same couple. “Let’s write our names as a goodbye, Sehun-ah.”

“They’re supposed to be written as a memory for forever,” Sehun replies. He knows he sounds resentful, but Joonmyun’s suggestion is funny. Why write anything when they’re ending their relationship, not hoping for it to continue? “You can write whatever you like, hyung. I don’t think I will.”

“I know it’s unkind of me to ask it of you, but I came on this last date for your sake, Sehun-ah, I would really like it if you could do this for my sake,” Joonmyun says as he reaches out to touch Sehun’s hand with a gloved hand. Sehun feels his resolve falter when Joonmyun tugs slightly on his hand and he concedes with a tiny nod.

Sehun lets Joonmyun lead him to the bench, both of them squatting down beside each other when they find an empty space on one side. Sehun takes the marker first and writes a simple ‘to J: thank you’ and his name before he stands up, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he waits for Joonmyun to write his own message.

“I’m done,” Joonmyun says after a minute, standing up and walking to Sehun’s side. He doesn’t take Sehun’s hand this time as they walk down the steps back to the cable cars. They’re silent as they wait in line for the cable car, Joonmyun sitting on the waiting chairs while Sehun stands, watching the tourism ads on the TV screen hung up on the wall. He can’t look at Joonmyun and admit this is really the last time he’ll ever see him - the times Joonmyun had looked at him as if intending to memorize every little detail of him suddenly make sense, and Sehun almost wishes Joonmyun had told him back then so that he could do the same. He had been angry, bitter and resentful at Joonmyun, but all he wants to do now is not say goodbye to the little bit of happiness he had finally found on his own.

When they reach Chungmuro Station, Joonmyun doesn’t go down the steps of the entrance. He heads to the edge of the sidewalk and flags down a taxi, only waving slightly to Sehun as if they’re going to see each other again, as if this isn’t the last time they’ll willingly see each other, as if he hadn’t broken Sehun’s heart after filling it up, before he gets into the taxi and leaves Sehun on his own.

•

Sehun deletes Joonmyun’s number and messages from his phone, erases him from their shared messaging apps, even though he already knows Joonmyun’s number by heart. He tries to delete their pictures too, but the furthest he gets is deleting one of them before instantly regretting it. He tosses his phone on the floor and drops himself on his bed, realizing it doesn’t matter. Nothing he’s done makes it hurt any less, nor does it erase the way he had felt when Joonmyun had held his hand, smiled at him or called his name so affectionately it hurt.

(All it does is make him hate himself even more for letting Joonmyun go.)

•

The thought of asking Joonmyun’s friends if they knew anything about the real reason seems a bit too pathetic, even for Sehun’s level of desperation, but he remembers Lu Han and the way Joonmyun had walked at ease beside him, which had told Sehun enough about how much Joonmyun trusted Lu Han. He asks Jinri to get his number, which she does after a few calls to SHINee members Sehun doesn’t know, and she sends it to him with a warning to think it through.

He calls Lu Han anyway. Lu Han answers on the fourth ring, sounding slightly out of breath. “Hello?”

“Lu Han hyung?” Sehun starts off uncertainly. If he hung up now, nobody would have to know it was him, but the way Joonmyun had looked at him at the tower makes him speak again. “I’m Sehun… we met when you were with Joonmyun hyung. Do you have a moment?”

“Oh Sehun. I was wondering when you’d remember me and call,” Lu Han answers. Sehun hears a person call Lu Han’s name in the background, but Lu Han doesn’t reply to them. “I’m free right now, but not for long. I know what you want to ask me, but I’m not the right person to ask about Joonmyun.”

“But you’re his friend, he would-” Sehun begins to say, but Lu Han’s sigh cuts him off.

“Yes, I’m his friend, and that’s why I can’t tell you. He has his reasons for breaking up with you, reasons I don’t agree with, but they’re his reasons,” Lu Han says kindly. Sehun feels the last thread of hope disappear, strung too tightly and snapped with too much of his anticipation hanging on it. “You’re someone he loves very much, and I want you to consider me your friend because Joonmyun doesn’t love very easily, so you must be a good person, but please don’t ask me again about him. If he had wanted me to tell you, I would have come to you on my own.”

Sehun opens the window as he stays silent, listening to Lu Han have a hushed conversation with someone else. The wind is cold and blows snow into his face when he pulls back the curtains, but it’s soothing. He’ll let any remaining tiny bits of hope freeze over and stop trying to find a way back to Joonmyun, who clearly doesn’t want him to try. Lu Han’s conversation has finished and he’s silent as well now, waiting for Sehun to speak. “Thank you for your time, hyung.”

“Please don’t hate him for this, he’s not a bad person,” Lu Han says, waiting a moment before he hangs up. Sehun lets the curtains fall back, not bothering to close the window, and hates how true Lu Han’s words are. Joonmyun isn’t a bad person, never could be, but he’s a cruel one nonetheless, Sehun thinks as he lays down on his bed.

•

Sehun meets Jongin on a miserable rainy day a week later after a call from Joonmyun’s number. They’re not friends, far from it, but Joonmyun served as a solid enough link for Sehun to accept Jongin’s request for a meeting.

The café they meet in is crowded, but it’s not lively at all. It’s saturated with a strange kind of mood that makes Sehun uncomfortable as he glances around, unable to pinpoint exactly what was wrong. Jongin doesn’t bother with greetings as he guides Sehun to a table at the back where Lu Han is sitting, face half-hidden with an oversized scarf. He signals at Sehun to sit across from them, and Sehun does so, keeping his face blank as he crosses his arms. “Why did you ask me to meet you?”

“Ah, you’re so annoying. I was about to explain,” Jongin says, but Lu Han places a hand on his arm to stop him. Jongin exchanges a look with Lu Han before looking back at Sehun. “Or Lu Han hyung will, actually.”

Sehun doesn’t say anything as he turns his attention to Lu Han, who lowers the scarf from his face. The memory of the Cheonggyecheon stream spotlights on Joonmyun’s face, Sehun’s yellow and black scarf wrapped around his neck, find their way back to the front of Sehun’s mind, and it takes all of him to keep his face blank. “Sehun-ah, Joonmyun-ah is a little… stubborn, you know. He made us promise not to tell you anything, even though we thought it was better that you know. That’s why there’s no nice way to tell you this… he should be the one to say it to you, but seeing as he’s too stubborn, we’ll be the ones to make the decision for him.”

“Hyung, I really like you, but whatever it is that Joonmyun hyung decided on, I don’t care anymore, okay?” Sehun replies, sighing and adjusting his jacket. It wasn’t true, he did care, but Joonmyun had made the choice to cut Sehun out of his life and throwing away what’s left of his pride to find a way back into it isn’t something Sehun is ready to do. He slides his hands into his pockets and slouches back slightly, looking around the café again before looking back at Jongin and Lu Han, who were staring at him with expressions Sehun couldn’t understand at all. He’s understood very little in the past few months. They looked a lot like pity, regret, emotions that didn’t make sense - Sehun notices for the first time how red the pair’s eyes were, the way Jongin’s shoulders were slumped with defeat - Lu Han sighs before speaking again, saying the words that would break apart Sehun’s world.

“Joonmyun is dying.”

•

The walk to the hospital is barely five minutes. Sehun walks behind Lu Han and Jongin, counting his steps. He can see Lu Han and Jongin talking, their lips moving, but it feels like he’s in a parallel universe he doesn’t belong in, almost as if he’s part of a separate world where he can see but never join them, and Sehun has to take a few steps forward and touch Lu Han’s jacket sleeve and remind himself this is real, this is his world and they’re part of it. He’s still a part of it, this world that was taking Joonmyun away from him in the most painful of ways, and the words stick in his throat when Lu Han looks back, concern in his eyes. He can’t do anything but shake his head, letting Lu Han pull him forward and wrap an arm around his waist, but it’s not consoling at all. He’d wanted the parallel universe, one where Joonmyun could live on happily, somewhere on this big planet, even if it wasn’t by Sehun’s side, and Lu Han’s thin arm keeps him in this place where Joonmyun was neither living on nor happy.

When he’s in front of the hospital room door, Kim Joonmyun in bold black characters that make the name seem so unfamiliar, Sehun is too terrified to go in. He stands to the side, running his fingers over the metal name plate, all courage draining out of him. Lu Han pushes Jongin into the room first, then turns to look at Sehun. “I know this isn’t what you expected, but I want you to put yourself in his place, imagine how hard it must have been for him to hurt you. He did it anyway, even when he knew how much he needed you, but he’s never put himself first, always you. But it’s been long enough, we couldn’t let him do this to either of you any longer. He’s hurting so much without this added burden.”

Lu Han places his hand on Sehun’s cheek for a moment, and Sehun pushes down as much of his feelings as he can. Lu Han pats Sehun’s cheek before he withdraws his hand and enters the room, leaving Sehun alone in the hallway.

•

The sight of Joonmyun in loose-fitting clothes, surrounded by pillows, wires and machines, makes Sehun sick to his stomach. He hadn’t imagined this, couldn’t have imagined this, and the closer he walks to Joonmyun, the sicker he feels. Sehun is afraid to go too close and touch, because Joonmyun is so thin, so pale, that Sehun thinks he might break like a porcelain doll if he touches him wrong. It would be easy to turn around and bolt, but he thinks of how Joonmyun must have felt, breaking both their hearts and left with a broken body, and it makes him want to crawl in beside Joonmyun and gather him up into his arms for only a moment, just long enough to pretend he could keep Joonmyun safe from everything. Joonmyun is half-asleep, drifting in and out of sleep, and not yet aware of Sehun’s presence, but when Sehun is a few steps away from his bedside, Joonmyun glances at him as if expecting one of his usual visitors. He stiffens when he sees Sehun, but then he smiles and the tension drains out of him, replaced by a relief that hurts, because Sehun knows he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to be thought of as a source of relief when he had been the one to let go of Joonmyun without even trying to really push for the truth, instead letting the anger and resentment build up. “Hyung…”

“Guys, could you give Sehun and I a moment? I’ll be okay,” Joonmyun says when Sehun falls silent, fighting to keep his tears from falling. Sehun barely registers Lu Han, Jongin and a third guy who looks a little like Joonmyun leaving the room, their voices getting further away, before he takes a couple of steps towards Joonmyun’s bed. Joonmyun turns slowly to lay on his side, facing Sehun. “I should have known Jongin and Lu Han wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sehun asks, his legs weak as he grabs the chair beside Joonmyun’s bed. Joonmyun’s smile falters a tiny bit, but Sehun has seen it enough times to know what it means. “Hyung, even while we were together, you knew?”

“I found out the day we went to the Cheonggyecheon Stream. I didn’t want to hide it from you, and I know it was selfish, but I wanted… I didn’t want to give up my life so easily,” Joonmyun admits, his voice loud in the quiet room. Sehun drops himself into the chair, unable to hold himself up any longer, when Joonmyun looks at him just as openly as the first time they kissed. “I wanted to let myself love you, as much as I could before the doctors told me I had to be admitted. I had to stop being selfish and give you up, so I did, because break ups hurt less than death. You would have forgotten about me, thought I was that jerk who hurt you, and found someone else eventually.”

Sehun exhales when Joonmyun pauses, letting out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“That would have been the end of me and you.”

•

Going to the hospital every day after school becomes a routine after the first day Sehun had found out. On the weekends, Sehun stuffs clothes and a toothbrush into his backpack instead of textbooks. The nurses greet him with sad smiles instead of pointing out the visiting hours. Even Joonmyun’s family leaves Joonmyun alone with Sehun until midnight on weekdays, but Sehun thinks it doesn’t matter because Joonmyun spends most of his time in drug-induced sleep anyway.

When Joonmyun is awake and alert, though, is what makes Sehun come back every day. Sehun likes to climb up into the bed and let Joonmyun slip in and out of light sleep against his side, Joonmyun’s favorite songs floating around them on the expensive portable speakers Jongin had bought for the older boy. They talk about nothing important, nothing as terrifying as life without Joonmyun or how close Joonmyun is to death, even though it’s in the air that fills the bright white hospital room, invading both their lungs with fear. Both of them clamp down on it and talk about new episodes of variety shows and idol scandals instead.

(Sehun marks down every day Joonmyun is still breathing as one day closer to Joonmyun’s death and wonders if it could be him instead.)

•

Sehun prepares a picnic basket as similar to the one they once had in Joonmyun’s living room floor, stuffing the plastic containers and Joonmyun’s favorite kinds of milk into his backpack alongside his books. He asks the nurses for permission, which they grant almost immediately after a quick consult with Joonmyun’s supervising doctor, and makes sure everything is ready before he bounds into Joonmyun’s room excitedly. “Hyung, let’s go on a picnic.”

“It’s -3°C and I get sick from someone forgetting the window open, do you really want to go on a picnic with me?” Joonmyun asks lightheartedly, although his words are a tiny bit slurred. Sehun knows how much morphine Joonmyun is on from how badly he slurs-he’s on a little, not too much, but enough to bear the pain. He wheels the wheelchair over to the side of Joonmyun’s bed and rolls his eyes when he’s close enough for Joonmyun to see him. “Hyung, I’m not that stupid. The nurses say the hallway is okay if you’re kept warm enough, since your condition’s stable.”

He takes Joonmyun out to the hallway and lowers him to the floor, where he’s laid out four blankets over each other to make sure the cold tiles don’t bother Joonmyun, and moves to sit beside Joonmyun, letting the older boy lean against him. Joonmyun reaches for the closest drink and laughs when he sees the drawings Sehun’s drawn on the side. Joonmyun doesn’t eat as much as Sehun would like, and he’s too tired to talk too much, but the way he smiles at Sehun sleepily, but oh so honestly, when Sehun takes him back to his bed, like Sehun is part of a dream blurred with reality, makes it all worthwhile.

•

On a day near the end of February, Sehun opens the door to Joonmyun’s room and finds Joonmyun crying in the arms of a person Sehun doesn’t know. His backpack and the two cups of bubble tea he’s holding suddenly feel very heavy. The guy meets Sehun’s eyes and shakes his head just slightly, not enough to alert Joonmyun of Sehun’s presence. The way he looks at Sehun, sharp and condescending, is enough to make Sehun want to pour both cups of bubble tea on the guy’s head.

He doesn’t, though. Instead, he sits down on the tiny sofa, quietly puts down his backpack on the floor, the cups of bubble tea beside it, and watches as the guy rock Joonmyun back and forth until Joonmyun’s hiccups have faded and he’s fallen asleep. The guy waits a moment to make sure Joonmyun’s asleep before he gently settles him back into the bed, then reaches out to brush Joonmyun’s hair away from his face.

Sehun stands up, reminding the guy of his presence, and meets his gaze. The guy pulls back his hand and strides over to the door, nodding at Sehun to follow him. Sehun scoffs and stuffs his hands into his pockets before he follows the guy outside to the hallway. “Who are you and why did you make hyung cry?”

“I’m your hyung too, please watch your words,” the guy answers, raising an eyebrow. Sehun thinks he must be one of Joonmyun’s SM friends, judging by how handsome he looks and how perfectly styled he is. There’s an accent to his words, a split-second hesitance, that makes Sehun wonder what nationality he is, because he doesn’t look Korean either. The guy confirms Sehun’s guess with his next words. “I’m Kris. I met Joonmyun when he was still in SM. I didn’t make him cry, someone else did. Now, let’s talk about you, Sehun-sshi.”

“There’s nothing about myself I’d like to discuss with you, Kris-sshi,” Sehun replies, not bothering to hide his irritation. He can see the way Kris thinks he’s too young by the way he’s looking at him and how the older guy’s arms are crossed like he’s speaking to a rebellious teen. He turns to go back inside the room, but Kris pulls him back from the door with a firm grip on his wrist. Sehun has to look up to meet Kris’ eyes again and it’s awkward. He’s never had to look up at anyone. “Excuse me, Kris-sshi, what do you-”

“I’m not here to waste anyone’s time, not yours or Joonmyun’s. You, though, are wasting a lot of Joonmyun’s by pretending he isn’t dying,” Kris begins, his soft tone at odds with his harsh words. “We both know he’s dying. He knows he’s dying. You can’t keep doing this, he doesn’t want to die knowing he’s leaving you behind to become a mess. Why haven’t you talked with him about it? Do you really think you can do this until he’s dead and you’re not?”

The only thing that keeps Sehun standing up is Kris’ grip on his upper arm. He doesn’t want to waste time, especially not Joonmyun’s, but he doesn’t want to let Joonmyun go either. He doesn’t want to imagine what something so utterly frightening as letting Joonmyun go would be like, and the last person he wants to discuss it with is Joonmyun. “I’m not going to talk about something so depressing with someone who’s already dying. I don’t - I can’t do that.”

Kris’ gaze softens and he lets go of Sehun’s arm to pat his shoulder. “You don’t know how much he loves you. He cried from a lot of things, but leaving you behind was the biggest reason.”

“You’re wrong,” Sehun answers quietly. He knows how much Joonmyun loves him, knew it from the moment Lu Han had told him about Joonmyun’s illness. He knows it from the way Joonmyun tries to avoid using morphine to be able to stay awake, even when he’s in pain, and doesn’t say a word about it to Sehun, who had to find out from the nurses. He knows it from the way Joonmyun kisses him awake on Sunday mornings reminding that the weekend is over and to prepare well for school tomorrow. He knows it all too well, knows it so much it hurts. “Please don’t do this. It’s hard enough without anyone interfering.”

“I’m not doing this with the intention of interfering. I’m doing it with the intention of helping you both because you’re too afraid to face it and he’s too worried he’ll make you sad,” Kris says, fixing the sleeves of his jacket. Sehun doesn’t meet his eyes. “Please talk to him, Sehun-ah. I only know what Joonmyun told me about you, but I know you love him a lot too. You won’t keep doing this if you love him enough.”

Hearing Kris say ‘Sehun-ah’ in such a familiar way, so similar but entirely unlike the way Joonmyun says it, is wrong. He can tell Kris has heard his name many times from Joonmyun, but it’s not the same at all. “Not now. It’s not right.”

“It’ll never be the right time, Sehun-ah,” Kris says with a sigh. He shakes his head and goes into the room, then comes back out with his own bag. “I can’t stay any longer. Think about what I said… and when he wakes up, please tell Joonmyun that I’m sorry I had to leave while he was asleep.”

Sehun nods numbly, turning to the door and pushing it open instead of watching Kris walk away. He can feel Kris’ eyes on him, looking back at him, but he ignores it and goes to sit on his chair beside Joonmyun’s bed. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Joonmyun’s hair, wondering how someone getting closer and closer to death could still look so perfect.

•

Sehun knows he can’t put it off any longer when Joonmyun wakes up in the middle of the night a couple of days later, his eyes bright with clarity. He’d been getting worse the last few days, barely conscious and declining most of the food he’s asked to eat, unless his mother or Sehun manage to nag enough to get him to eat a few bites, so to wake up to him staring like this jolts Sehun into awareness as well. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“You must be tired,” Joonmyun says tenderly, reaching out to arrange Sehun’s bangs away from his face. Sehun straightens and pulls his chair closer to the edge of the bed. “Come join me in bed. Sleeping like that isn’t good for your neck and back.”

Sehun scrambles up into the bed, careful not to tug on any of the wires connected to Joonmyun’s body. He settles into a comfortable position with Joonmyun facing him, mere inches separating their faces. It reminds Sehun of days lazing around in Joonmyun’s apartment, where Joonmyun had teased him about his morning breath and forever hadn’t seemed like a daydream. He reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Joonmyun’s, avoiding the IV line and needle. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m scared, Sehun-ah,” Joonmyun whispers. Sehun is so close that he can feel the puffs of air hit his lips from Joonmyun’s words, but he pays it no mind as Joonmyun presses his blunt nails into Sehun’s hand. He can’t tell Joonmyun how scared he is, too. “I don’t want to die. It’s easier when I’m asleep or the pain meds, they take away the option of feeling.”

“Don’t be scared,” Sehun whispers back. He can’t help the tears that escape him, and he knows Joonmyun shouldn’t have to feel the burden of his tears, but he doesn’t have Joonmyun for much longer. “You won’t be alone. You’ll be okay.”

Joonmyun shifts forward and presses his forehead against Sehun’s, squeezing Sehun’s hand tightly. “Don’t cry while you’re saying that, it’s not very convincing.”

“I can’t help it,” Sehun mumbles, his tears still flowing. He wants to stop crying and tell Joonmyun resolutely that he’ll be fine, but he can’t when his eyes are locked with Joonmyun’s and he can feel every word from Joonmyun’s lips. “I want to be strong for you, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be strong right now, okay?” Joonmyun murmurs as he lets go of Sehun’s hand to raise his own and brush away Sehun’s tears from his cheeks. “You have to be strong later. You know when.”

You mean when you’re dead, Sehun thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to, because Joonmyun knows him well enough to read it from his eyes. “Kris told me he talked to you. I didn’t want Lu Han and Jongin to tell you anything because of this right now, because I won’t hurt after I’m… gone, but you will. That’s unfair to you.”

“It is unfair,” Sehun knows it’s unfair, it’s unfair Joonmyun’s dying and he’s powerless, it’s unfair that he has to say goodbye a third time, it’s completely unfair, but he has to accept it. He won’t go against anything Joonmyun wants him to do, not now. “I’ll… I think I’ll be okay. It’s unfair to keep you with me, when you’re hurting, when you could be… you could be okay.”

“You can’t just say that,” Joonmyun says, closing his eyes. Sehun closes his own eyes as well, takes in all of Joonmyun, savors this moment where Joonmyun is awake and here and all his. Joonmyun lets out a sigh, breath warm on Sehun’s lips. “That day at Namsan Tower, I know you didn’t see my message, but I wrote you a thank you for letting me love you all this while, letting me be a part of your life while I could. Like when I was at your graduation ceremony, I imagined how it would feel to hug you on your university graduation and let you see how proud I would be, even though it would be all your hard work that got you there. I knew it was impossible, but I still wished so hard that I could. I guess it really is impossible for me to be there, but you have to promise me that you’ll still graduate, even though I won’t be there.”

Sehun can’t reply. The tears are too salty on his lips and any words he wants to say are gathering in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He’ll cry on his graduation day, looking at his family and the place where Joonmyun should be, but where he won’t be. The thought is enough to make Sehun realize the rest of his life won’t have Joonmyun either, not only his graduation. “Hyung…”

“Promise me,” Joonmyun says firmly, his hand still on Sehun’s cheek. Sehun nods in place of a reply. “When I’m dead, you’re allowed to be sad, but you have to remember you’re going to be okay too. You lived without me for eighteen years and I’m sure you can do it again, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun shakes his head, over and over and over, as if it will keep Joonmyun from talking and keep him from listening, but Joonmyun’s talking and Sehun is still listening. “You’re going to be completely alright. You have to be.”

Joonmyun’s eyes are fluttering shut, like he can barely keep himself awake, and Sehun knows it’s because he really can’t. The nurses have told him the symptoms of the last days and all of them fit with Joonmyun’s condition. “Sehun-ah, they say emotional pain only lasts twelve minutes, and anything longer is self-inflicted. So… twelve minutes is more than enough, okay?”

No, it isn’t, it really isn’t, Sehun thinks as sleep takes Joonmyun from him. Twelve minutes is not enough for moving on from Joonmyun, was nowhere near enough. He shifts, moving slowly and sliding out of the bed, and heads out to the hallway, where he sits with his back leaning on the door, letting the grief seize him as he cries so hard he can barely breathe.

(Even their conversation hadn’t been twelve minutes long, and it was the closest thing he’ll ever get to closure with Joonmyun, the closest thing to a proper goodbye.)

•

The irritating screech of the heart monitor wakes Sehun up three nights later, the sky clear with no cloud in sight.

He knows he should wake up, but sleep clings to him like a staticky blanket, and he doesn’t want to wake up. Joonmyun’s sobbing mother, Joonmyun’s silent, red-eyed father and older brother, the nurses coming in to turn off the monitors, Joonmyun’s still body, chest no longer rising and falling gently, his eyes closed, all of it would be a bad dream if he didn’t wake up.

He’s not awake, he’s not crying, Joonmyun isn’t gone, he can’t breathe, it’s all a bad dream in his head -

•

He doesn’t remember the funeral.

•

Lu Han visits him the day after the funeral, even though his debut is in two days. Sehun nods automatically when Lu Han speaks soothingly, eyes red and puffy, but he doesn’t care what Lu Han is saying. Lu Han sighs, falling silent when he notices Sehun isn’t listening, and pulls Sehun into a hug. “You know the last thing he would want is to see you like this.”

Sehun lets Lu Han hug him because it will make Lu Han feel better, even though it doesn’t comfort Sehun at all. Words like Lu Han’s are anything but comforting, well-crafted lies that only hurt; it’s not like Lu Han would know what Joonmyun thinks.

Joonmyun is gone.

•

Sehun doesn’t attend the first day of classes at university. He can’t get out of bed, not even when his mom and older brother try their best to convince him, and he doesn’t want to either. Cheongah calls him eighteen times and sends twenty-six messages, Lu Han nine and Jongin five before Sehun takes the battery out and drops it to the floor, the phone, the battery cover and the battery falling away to separate directions. He’s read none of the messages and rejected most of the calls, trying to gather any feelings besides the sadness enveloping every inch of his body.

He wishes someone could take him apart as easily as a phone, take away all his feelings-

take away Joonmyun from his head.

•

The world that keeps on turning, keeps on moving, without Joonmyun is terrifying. Sehun can’t find his way back into it, not when it’s safer in his room, the curtains closed as he stays in his bed, unwilling to leave it. He tries to bring back any trace of Joonmyun, who had once slept in the same bed while Sehun had finished a neglected assignment, but it doesn’t work-there’s nothing but the cool March air coming in from the window his mother had opened, almost as if it’s taking away even the littlest parts of Joonmyun which Sehun desperately tries to grab onto.

•

Sehun wakes up to the harsh sunlight and his blanket being torn away from him. He’s been left alone by his family, who don’t understand but are trying their best to, and the only time he interacts with them is when they come in to make sure he eats the meals they bring. He opens his mouth to protest, but when he sees Jinri, arms crossed, looking down at him with a look only intensified by fake lashes and dark eyeliner, the fight leaves him and he lowers his eyes. She doesn’t let him off, though, leaning down to grab his pillow and pull it away.

“You don’t get to ignore me, Oh Sehun,” She says strictly. They probably teach her how to talk like that in SM, Sehun thinks to himself, but doesn’t say anything in reply to her. “You’ve been doing enough of that already. It’s been long enough, Sehun. Do you really plan to live your life like you’re dead because Joonmyun oppa is? Your whole family is worried sick about you, you should let them help you.”

“I don’t need anything,” Sehun replies, voice scratchy from disuse. He turns to his other side, his back to Jinri. She lets out a frustrated noise and sits down on the edge of his bed, reaching out her hand and pressing it to Sehun’s upper arm. “Sehun, let me help you at least. Your family barely knew oppa, and I didn’t know him as well as you did, but I still knew him. Talk to me, please.”

You knew a side of him that I didn’t, a side of him I’ll never get to know, Sehun wants to scream at her, but he keeps it in, along with the tears. Jinri’s right-he knew more of Joonmyun than she did, but it doesn’t matter. How would Jinri, someone who had only contacted Joonmyun to greet him on important days, ever understand how he feels? The only people he can think of who would have loved Joonmyun like he had would be his family, and even then, it was an entirely different type of love, so they wouldn’t be able to feel the way he feels. He reaches over and pats Jinri’s hand before raising it away from his arm. “You must be busy, Jinri. I’m sorry you went through the trouble to come here.”

Jinri seems to give up, because she doesn’t say anything, nor does she move, for a few minutes, then she gets up and there’s a rustle of paper. Sehun doesn’t have to look to know she’s looking at the personal leave request confirmation his brother had brought him. It’s the only piece of paper on his desk. “I know you think it’s easy to escape the world right now, going on leave and shutting yourself away, and I can’t do anything to change that, but you’ll find out soon on your own how sad this is. Joonmyun oppa wouldn’t have wanted this for you, he would have been so disappointed.”

She tosses the folded paper back at his desk and leaves the room, the door still open behind her. Sehun gets up to close it before he goes back into his cocoon of blankets, Jinri’s words joining the rest he’d heard from various people, the same thing repeated in dozens of different ways, each of them less convincing than the other. All of them try to use Joonmyun, Joonmyun would be so sad, would be so angry, would be so disappointed, wouldn’t want you to be like this, would want you to think of your future, as a way to provoke him, but once they do, he stops listening. Joonmyun wouldn’t do anything, because Joonmyun is dead, and using him as a verbal weapon only makes Sehun shut everyone out that much more severely.

•

He’s left alone for a week, the misery only building up more and more. Cheongah calls him a few times and tells him about her classes at university, a weak attempt at bringing him back into reality, but Sehun only humors her by humming as if he’s listening, even though he really isn’t. His hyung tries, and fails, to get Sehun to go with him on errands, but the furthest Sehun has gone from his room in the past two weeks is the family mart five minutes away, to buy a pile of Joonmyun’s favorite drinks in place of proper food.

He knows it won’t last, though, and he’s proved right when Jongin and Lu Han wake him up at an obscenely early time in the morning. Lu Han pulls back the curtains and opens the window, while Jongin pulls away Sehun’s blanket with one swift tug. “Get up, right now.”

Sehun ignores Jongin, because he knows the older boy is waiting for a response, and turns his back towards them. Jongin pulls away the pillow too, and Sehun wants to ask if all SM trainees learn how to be annoying, and turns to glare at Jongin, who has dropped the pillow behind him and is glaring back at Sehun. “I don’t even know you, why are you here?”

“I don’t want to be here,” Jongin says, crossing his arms and exchanging looks with Lu Han, who is giving warning looks to Jongin. “I wouldn’t come, either, but Joonmyun hyung made us promise to take care of you.”

The many messages from Lu Han and Jongin make a lot more sense now that he knows Joonmyun is behind them. They don’t know him, despite whatever good intentions they might have. He ignores Jongin again and looks at Lu Han, addressing him instead. “Hyung, it’s nice you’re keeping your promise, but I don’t need your pity. I’m completely fine.”

“Jinri doesn’t think so,” Lu Han replies when Jongin turns away in frustration, taking out his phone. He steps forward and squats down beside Sehun. “We would have come earlier, but we’ve been busy with our debut and this is the earliest we could come.”

“You don’t have to come again,” Sehun knows Lu Han doesn’t deserve his venom, but he’s had enough of people trying to get him to get better. He’ll do it on his own terms, not with everyone pushing at him and telling him to move on. “I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”

“You promised him you’d go to university and continue living well. Whatever you’re doing right now isn’t living well, Oh Sehun, and that means you’re not taking your promise with Joonmyun hyung seriously,” Jongin says harshly, walking to the edge of the bed and grabbing Sehun’s arm to tug him up into a sitting position. “Enough is enough. Yes, he’s dead. You’re not, though, and you’ve got your whole life waiting for you. I know the last words you want to hear are what Joonmyun hyung would want for you, but what everyone tells you is true. I’m not Joonmyun hyung, and I never will be anything close to Joonmyun hyung, but I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t want you to live like this. He didn’t even get to finish university because he got sick, but you, you’re a waste of -”

“Jongin-ah!” Lu Han interrupts, pulling Jongin back from where he’s leaned so close that Sehun can feel the waves of hostility emitting from him. Sehun is hit with how true Jongin’s words are: he had promised Joonmyun so much, to live a life that Joonmyun hadn’t been able to, but here he was, doing nothing but letting the grief keep him tied to his room. “Sehun-ah, Jongin means well. I wouldn’t have put it like he did, but he’s right. It’s not going to be easy, but you have to try your best to keep your promise to Joonmyun, and that means you can’t keep doing this. We’ll be there for you, too, in place of Joonmyun.”

They would never be Joonmyun, no matter how hard they tried. His place in Sehun’s life was one that couldn’t be replaced by two people who could become friends, friends who he wouldn’t be able to see very often, but they could never be Joonmyun. It didn’t mean they couldn’t be people to help him fill the hole Joonmyun had left, even if it’s a tiny bit. “I’m not going to break my promise.”

“Think about it well. We have to go now, Jongin hasn’t slept and we have an early recording,” Lu Han says as he kneels on the bed and gives a quick but warm hug to Sehun, then he turns and reaches out to pat Jongin’s waist a few times. “Let’s go, Jongin-ah.”

Jongin makes as if to leave, but he turns to Sehun before doing so and leans forward again. “All you have to do is remind yourself you’re still alive. If you break your promise, it shows how much Joonmyun hyung really meant to you.”

“Jongin-ah!” Lu Han says exasperatedly. He grabs Jongin’s wrist and tugs him away, shooting a bright smile at Sehun before turning away to leave. Jongin looks over his shoulder and Sehun meets his eyes, and that’s all it takes for him to find out that Jongin is probably the one who understands how he feels the most. But Jongin looks back to the front and closes the door behind him, leaving Sehun alone. Déjà vu hits him and he lays down slowly, counting the times he’s been left alone with only his thoughts as company-it feels like one too many times.

(The silence in the solitude of his room feels different now, more suffocating than blissful.)

•

Standing in front of Joonmyun’s apartment door is torturous. He takes the spare key from beneath the welcome mat, but it takes him a few minutes to get over the feeling that Joonmyun will open the door at any moment. He takes a deep breath before he slides the key into the lock and opens the door, the click resounding loudly in the empty apartment.

The thinnest layer of dust is the only indicator of how long Joonmyun has been gone - everything else is the same. His pink slippers are still in the same place, beside Joonmyun’s blue ones, the fake flowers Joonmyun had gotten last month are still on the kitchen table, Joonmyun’s favorite throw blanket is still hanging off the couch, Joonmyun’s grey and white bed sheets and blanket are still unmade, the closet door slightly open, as if Joonmyun had left quickly for class and would eventually come back to make the bed, pick up the dirty socks on the floor and fix the overturned shoes beside the door. Sehun doesn’t dare move anything, carefully stepping over the pile of textbooks and scripts to walk to the bed and sit down in it. Joonmyun’s presence lingers in the air, somehow, even though Joonmyun is no longer here, no longer his, and he’s alone in the small apartment that seems too big without Joonmyun in it. Sehun breathes in Joonmyun’s scent, letting it surround him. The tears come too quick when it overpowers him, all of the little things that made up Joonmyun around him, and he lets himself cry for all the days he hadn’t, for the future that wouldn’t have Joonmyun, for the promise he wants to keep, and it’s easier to do so when he’s surrounded by everything that’s Joonmyun, everything that used to be his and nobody else’s, and everything he couldn’t keep holding onto any longer.

He doesn’t go home that night, sleeping instead in Joonmyun’s bed. He goes home in the morning, leaving everything exactly like it is except for the black jacket Joonmyun had worn on their first date at the ice rink and the scarf he had given Joonmyun the night at the Cheonggyecheon Stream. He’ll let Joonmyun’s family pack away everything, but he can’t let them take these away from him, not when he has barely anything of Joonmyun left to call his own.

•

The leave confirmation on his desk is a reminder that he still has a little while more to get back on his feet. He’s not completely ready, not yet, but letting the sunshine into his messy room again is a tiny step forward. The little reminders of Joonmyun everywhere, from his phone background to the desk calendar Joonmyun had bought for him to the string of polaroids Joonmyun’s brother had asked Lu Han to give Sehun, are not easy to look at, but slowly, slowly, slowly but surely, they give him strength in place of unhappiness. Cheongah’s voice as she talks about her new boyfriend and her classes is no longer irritating, but encouraging, as she brings Sehun back to the real world, where he had once belonged and was now trying to get back into. She mentions the summer semester and Sehun shifts the phone to his other ear, pulling one of the polaroids on the hanging string closer to him. Joonmyun is wearing one of his baseball caps, tongue stuck out at the camera, and half of Sehun’s face is beside him, arm stretched out to take the picture. The promise he’d made with Joonmyun wasn’t one he intended to break, so Sehun hums in response to Cheongah. He’ll look it up later on his laptop when the early April air has become warmer and he’s a little less afraid to face the rest of the world head on.

•

It’s near the end of April, when the weather has transitioned into being warm enough for t-shirts, that Sehun finally signs up for the summer semester’s classes. Lu Han is sitting on his bed, humming a DBSK song as he solves a Rubix cube, and Sehun feels a bit closer to keeping his promise when his sign-up is confirmed. He prints out the schedule when he’s done and Lu Han snatches it away from the tray, reading it over before he looks up at Sehun with a gentle smile, one that reminds him of Joonmyun’s. The more he learns about Lu Han, the easier it is to see how he and Joonmyun had been good friends. He moves to sit across from Lu Han on the bed, taking back the printed schedule, and readies himself for one more step back into the world.

•

The space of time between the sign-up period and his first class at the beginning of June passes quicker than he expects. The weather grows hot and humid, the sweat making his clothes cling to his skin as he sits on the swing of the playground, sipping on his bubble tea, Jongin swinging lightly on the one beside his, already finished his two containers of light banana milk. Lu Han joins them half an hour later, two of his groupmates with him, and lectures Sehun about punctuality, making him head to his campus two hours early.

The first class, and even the two after it, aren’t as scary as Sehun had assumed. He sits in the middle, not too keen on sitting in the front but not really interested in joining the slackers in the back, and he can’t help but smile when he hears his name in the roll call. He takes minimal notes on the introductions to the subject the lecturers give and calls Jinri in between classes, whining to her about being hungry and laughing when she tells him he hasn’t felt true hunger until he’s been on her pre-comeback diet for a week. She hangs up to go back to dance practice and he types in half of Joonmyun’s number before he stops, realizing what he’s doing and staring at the string of numbers. He erases them and slides his phone back into his messenger bag, letting the pang of missing Joonmyun, of wanting to tell Joonmyun all about his classes but not being able to, fade on its own as he walks to his next class.

•

It’s cold and the January winds are forceful enough to sting, the scarf pulled up to cover everything but his eyes rendered useless. Sehun narrows his eyes, blinking back the tears formed by the wind and raw nostalgia from last winter, and pushes on until he reaches the edge of the roof. The worn step-ladder Joonmyun had left behind is still hidden behind abandoned boxes and crates, the cheap blue paint chipping off in large sections. It’s a reminder of a past that’s wavering on the edge of that place in the back of his mind where he pushes back all the memories he doesn’t want, the kind he has a lot of, but he can’t find the courage to let it fall.

Sehun pulls the step-ladder and pushes it to the edge of the wall, testing it tentatively with one foot. It lets out a soft creak, but remains steady, so he continues and stands on it with both feet. He feels the wood bend just a tiny bit underneath his weight as he moves up to the last step and reaches out his bare hands to the rough cement of the roof edge. The view of Seoul, his city, their city, nobody’s city, faded colors coming to life with the touch of the rising sun, leaves Sehun as breathless as the first time Joonmyun had shown it to him. It’s a completely different feeling without Joonmyun by his side, the cold numbing his hands without the warmth of Joonmyun’s fingers intertwined with his, that Sehun wants to both cry and scream at the city that gave him Joonmyun, who became love, who became everything, and then took Joonmyun away and left Sehun behind, but he has nothing more left in him to give, no more tears to cry and no more sadness to feel.

The city that might have been theirs, his and Joonmyun’s, once, is one that Sehun doesn’t want anymore. He’d probably forget it all except for this moment, the moment where the silent city showed off the only way it could be beautiful, rays of sun covering every inch until it was stealing breaths with a beauty it didn’t really have, a beauty it was borrowing from the pure sunlight, the moment Joonmyun had given to him, the moment that kept him in Seoul, keeping his promise to Joonmyun, even when Joonmyun wasn’t in it anymore and there was no beauty to be found. Sehun turns away from the view, jumping off the step-ladder and making his way back inside the building. He’ll keep all of Joonmyun in the back of his mind, all of the happiness and the sadness and everything Joonmyun had let him feel, but perhaps, while living well in a future without Joonmyun, he’ll keep this memory, this part of Joonmyun, somewhere alongside his happy memories instead.

notes→ you've reached the end of the somewhat tolerable 19k of Hunho word vomit! Slow clap for you, dear reader, and thank you for getting this far. Tell me if you liked it, hated it or anything you think ♥