Late Nights | SeongJoong OneShot

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It's eleven in the evening.

But even though he would see a clear sky full of stars if he looked out of his window, his gaze never leaves the dull ceiling.

His brows are furrowed and in his head are so many worries he can't even differentiate between them anymore.

It all morphed together a long time ago.

He's stressed but doesn't know why.

He's sad but doesn't know why.

He feels lonely and can't pinpoint the reason.

It's almost like any other evening.

He feels like shit and just craves one thing now.

So, he sighs, scrambles up and drags himself out of his room.

The hallway is dark but he knows it by heart.

Knows that on his left, there's a small chair that they've been too busy to put away.

Knows that there are empty cups of ramyun directly in front of his door that he was too exhausted to throw in the trash in the kitchen since his own trashcan is filled to the brim with crossed out lyric sheets.

Knows that behind the third door is exactly where he wants to be, needs to be.

He drags his heavy feet over the dark carpet floor, previously soft steps echoing in his head as if they weighed a thousand tons.

The weight on his shoulders feels like it's dragging him down, feels like it's forcing him to stop, turn around and face his life.

But he pushes through, like always.

Weakly, but he does.

Until he's right in front of the wooden door, ready to knock.

But he doesn't have to knock.

They've done this a thousand times already.

Always the same routine.

Always the same time.

Always the same reason.

Before he raises his fist to knock, the door is being pulled open and Seonghwa looks down at him with a sad smile.

Like always.

And something in his heart twists.

Like always.

But he ignores it.

Like always.

He just walks inside, lets Seonghwa close the door and waits until the elder sits down on his bed.

He pats his lap and Hongjoong does what he always does.

Lays down sideways and rests his head on Seonghwa's thighs.

Seonghwa lets his fingers card through Hongjoong's mess of hair and Hongjoong melts into the touch.

"Is it the same again?," Seonghwa asks.

He looks down at him with a worried expression but there's sadness swimming in those beautiful dark eyes.

Hongjoong nods.

He stares ahead at the ceiling again.

He doesn't feel lonely now.

But he's still sad. Still stressed.

His eyes find Seonghwa's and some weight is lifted off his shoulders.

But it still doesn't feel perfect.