Burnout ⊗ Jeongchan

⑤④ Lighting a Candle

"Did they make up?"

The question came as Jeongin and Chan entered the shop, ducking under the half opened metal bay doors with a slight hesitation that only came from hours of them talking. Talking of the future, where they would go, what they could be, and keeping an unspoken rule to never speak of the moments they tried to leave behind despite the questions it spawned. Where did you come from? What have you seen? And never earning a response for what he wondered. These gaps that existed without much of an answer, and no hint of telling when he'd know.

And that isn't yet mentioning the gaps of himself Jeongin barely began to fill. Those puzzle pieces he left behind, being told to slot them into so many places the pieces couldn't fit in anywhere. Never knowing, never guessing, this ceaseless searching for affection in places he should not have been, the ache in his chest that squeezed his lungs, and the unquenchable thirst for something more. And yet, whatever that "more" was, he found himself unsatisfied with the thought of it. What would that more be, besides one of the multiple emotions he searched for in other's faces instead of his own. One of those that he was pleased to see when someone else had it, but never gave himself the liberty to own. Where was he even supposed to start?

As he glanced to Chan, eyes scanning over the older's profile for an answer, he could only think he was falling farther despite the hand keeping him up. Only, this falling felt different.

"They made up!" Minho raised his fists above his head as he yelled in celebration. His arms began to relax a bit, hands coming back down to his chest as he quirked an eyebrow at them, "Are you dating now?"

Chan looked over to the younger, no doubt feeling the pair of eyes boring into his temples, partnered with the question from the crew member. Their eyes connected for a brief second. An unfamiliar feeling swelled in Jeongin's chest, and he was forced to snap his head away from the older. He chose to glare at the floor next to him as his arms folded over the mild throb in his heart, distracting his ever wandering mind and directing the invading stares away from his form with every trick he had learned in his time avoiding unwanted lectures from irrelevant people. That thought brought a small smile to his face; "Irrelevant people". He might not know himself, but he at least knew he didn't need to return to them anymore.

But that smile was quickly interpreted wrongly as Jisung jeered, "They're dating!"

Hyunjin scoffed, his head thudding back against the fender of Changbin's car. The owner of said car, who was draped across his car's hood and windshield, frowned down at him and rolled the catalogue in his hands. A firm flop resonated in the shop as Changbin smacked the top of Hyunjin's head with the thick wad of rolled paper. The latter let his gaze drop with the impact. Although he didn't raise his eye level, a quiet seeth came from his form. A sort of unhinged anger towards the one behind him, a suppressed want to bite back at him but knowing he wouldn't be able to. Slowly, as the younger stared at the scowl hidden behind his hair, he began to realize Changbin wasn't the only one he directed his loathing towards.

As Jeongin stared at the mentioned, the voices of the other's becoming drowned out in his own thoughts and head reeling to wonder why, the prod of knuckles on his back summoned him to reality. He glanced over his shoulder to Chan, the older motioning his head silently past him at one of the crew members. Changbin hopped off the car and approached them with relaxed yet urgent steps. Trying to reach them, yet trying to conceal why. The knuckle on Jeongin's back pressed a little further before releasing the pressure as Chan sent him a small stare, one that told him to stay in the shop as he fell in step with Changbin and they left the shop without another word.

Jeongin's eyes trailed after them, half tempted to continue his streak of not listening to Chan but resisting that small urge to rebel. The logical part of his brain insisted this wasn't the time, nor the place. Something about the way they stepped, about how their features contorted with an understanding that couldn't be spoken, told him they needed that time to talk. There was a reason Chan didn't announce it to the rest of the crew, after all.