LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 21

21: The truth.

Inevitably Jeongin had to go back to the banquet, no matter how much Jisung wanted to bask in his company. He was the host, after all, and it would not do any good to disappear entirely after the embarrassing little show they'd put up publicly.

So after they'd drank some tea, with Jisung reliving the past few months in slight exaggeration and theatrical flair, Jeongin had to excuse himself. Before he went, he put an affectionate hand over Jisung's cheek, his warm eyes holding a sad edge.

"Hyung, you need to forgive yourself," he said quietly.

Even though Jisung did not think he would be needing any more tears that day, he still squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

Jeongin did not wait for him to respond, most likely because he was aware that Jisung couldn't. He was crying and was at a loss for words.

Then Jeongin withdrew, making it clear that they were expected to attend the banquet tomorrow and that Yongbok would follow Jisung if he even considered leaving before seeing Jeongin again.

Jisung promised.

Then he was alone with Minho.

Minho maintained his composure throughout the entire ordeal, handling the situation as coolly as if it were commonplace for your reality-travelling roommate's siblings from a different dimension to show up for an emotional reunion.

Minho had simply sat by him, nodding at the appropriate parts of his stories and shaking his head at others, when Jeongin looked at him for a reality check. He had not asked a single question, except to inquire about Jisung's well-being the first time.

Jisung wondered how someone could be so perfect.

He was so exhausted, so emotionally drained, that Minho's quiet, undemanding company was the only thing he could stand.

"Minho, let's have some more tea," he said.

"Mn," was the obedient response, as usual. Making space for Jisung was something Minho was really good at, allowing space for all the deep emotions he was unable to express.

So Minho had a servant get them more tea, and they sat down in an unusual silence that for once Jisung could not fill with words. Minho didn't ask, didn't pressure him. Just sipped his tea with his usual solemnity, only every now and then glancing at Jisung's way.

In the night Jisung was thoroughly ready for unconsciousness to take over and make the pounding in his head quiet down for a while. He pressed his face onto the too-soft pillow, half-smothering himself.

The party was probably still going on out there, but the sound insulation here was working miracles. Maybe it was all gold. Or the fact that the place was so massive that the banquet hall and their quarters were a fifteen minute walk away from each other.

He rolled in the sheets with growing frustration, guilt, grief and relief making a pained mess of attempts to drop asleep.

The memory of Jeongin's face had not faded in a year, but seeing it again brought light to the gaps in his recollection; the way his eyes narrowed in a foxy smile, the way his brows furrowed in worry over him.

Seeing him was a blessing that should not have been granted to Jisung. There was a version of Jeongin that was dead because of him, so how could he dare--

He wished he could've been that Jisung; the one that died to protect his family. The one that Jeongin missed, that Yongbok still loved. The silence of the room had started to press over his chest like someone had dropped a weight on it.