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Hongjoong doesn't think he can, but apparently he does.
He does, and when he wakes up, it's early in the afternoon, and his throat is parched, and he's alone.
Hongjoong drags himself out of bed and into the shower, feeling somewhat better physically and not really at all better mentally, the comedown still hitting hard.
But whatever.
He deserves it.
Hongjoong deserves it, all of it, and worse.
Hongjoong gets out of the shower and dresses robotically.
Just boxers and a t-shirt.
Fuck, he needs to make it up to them.
All of them.
He drags himself upstairs and it's silent in the house, like maybe no one's even there.
The door to San and Wooyoung's room is closed, as is the door to Mingi and Yunho and Jongho's.
The living room is empty.
Hongjoong goes into the kitchen and pours himself some coffee, which is sitting cold in the coffee maker, probably at least a few hours old and stale as shit.
He drinks it anyways, and feels kind of better and kind of worse.
There are crumbs on the counter, and Hongjoong starts brushing them up.
He's still craving a cigarette, needs it like he's hungry - and he is hungry, kind of, but he ignores it in favor of trying to clean up the kitchen.
That'll be helpful, right?
Maybe Wooyoung won't hate him as much, and San won't yell at him again, which - Hongjoong deserved it, he did, and he'll make up for it with chores, and-
Hongjoong scrubs furiously at the counter even though it's not even really dirty, and then his head is spinning and he's falling and he's crying again.
Hongjoong is crying on the kitchen floor, shoulders shaking and head still spinning as he curls his knees to his chest and sobs and wishes for Seonghwa.
