connected|chan

-thirteen-

Chan can't help but feel threatened at the sight of EunHye curled up in ChangBin's lap fast asleep. The moment he got here, she willingly let him hold her. It was almost as if Chan was nothing—just a distant memory.

"Breathe." SeungMin mumbles softly, squeezing Chan's shoulders from behind.

"Am I not enough for her? Does she not want me? Is she just playing along with me because she feels bad?" Chan whispers, the unanswered questions tearing at his heart.

"She wouldn't do that to you—not intentionally. You know better than any of us that sometimes she doesn't know what she feels. Something may seem like the right thing, but in reality she feels something else completely." SeungMin explains calmly, his own struggle with his unresolved feelings for her becoming much less painful as he does his best to comfort Chan.

In a way, they're both in the same situation. Chan's afraid his feelings aren't being returned in the way he hopes they are. What she says and shows she's feeling may just be what she thinks he wants her to feel—or even what she wants to feel, but doesn't necessarily feel. With EunHye, emotions are something that will never make sense for anyone around her—but especially her.

When she fell and broke her arm while dancing with HyunJin and MinHo, she couldn't tell them what she felt. All she knew was that she should be in pain—so that's what her mind made her feel—she felt the pain she'd seen everyone else in similar situations feel. She feeds off others emotions—feeling them almost as deeply as they do. She was never taught how to feel for herself—at least not explicitly.

"I hate this feeling, Seung. I'm just so uncertain of everything. So afraid and anxious that what I have in one moment will be gone the next—and I'll have no one to blame. I can't be mad at her when she's already trying so hard to be what everyone wants her to be. I've always told her not to pretend around me—that I want her to feel comfortable being her—but sometimes I'm scared that me telling her that isn't enough. I'm scared that she tries even harder around me so she doesn't disappoint me. If it's this hard for me—how hard is it for her? How miserable is she being trapped in her head—confused and unsure of everything she feels—everything she thinks she feels?" Chan slowly breaks down, his eyes never once leaving her still figure.

"How does it feel when she just gets so overwhelmed she sits down and cries for hours on end? What goes through her head? Does she tell herself over and over again that she's not good enough—that she's stupid for not being able to understand herself? I've heard her say it before. I've heard her tell herself how stupid and useless she is because she can't even understand herself—because she can't be like everyone else. It kills me, SeungMin. It really kills me—but there's absolutely nothing I can do to fix it. If there was—I would've done it a million times over already." Chan continues, reaching up to dry the tears falling down his face.

"You're already doing enough, Channie. You're always at her side. You're always doing everything you can to help her. When she gets worked up—when she's overwhelmed—you always do everything you can to stay calm and level headed with her. When she yells at you—swears and calls you names—even when she hits you—you take it all and don't hold it against her. You're so good at caring for her in every way she needs—I never stood a chance against you. Even though she didn't want you this time—she's wanted you over a dozen times before. For every two or three dozen times she wants you—there's maybe one or two times she wants someone else. I say that's a pretty good ratio." SeungMin wraps his arms around Chan from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"But what if it changes? What if she starts to make sense of how she feels and realizes that I'm not what she wants? That she wants nothing to do with me? What'll I do then? What'll I do if I lose her after I've put so much of myself into her?" Chan's voice breaks, his emotions just too much for him in the moment.