↱RIBS↲ ⇾seongjoong⇽

じゅうさん

A Very Bad Day.

Seonghwa won't eat his breakfast.

There had been a shift in his mind, and the night before he couldn't sleep.

He was too sad to stay awake, too sad to go to bed.

He drifted somewhere in the middle, spiraling downward, wanting to crawl out of his own skin.

Eventually, he slipped out of bed and went to the living room, lifted the coffee table with tired arms and placed it against the wall; opened the curtains to let the moonlight come streaming in; moving on light feet, dancing steps he must have danced hundreds of times, staying quiet, socked feet sliding softly against hardwood.

He began to calm.

The moonlight was just enough to illuminate the delicate curve of his hand as he extended it upwards, as his right foot came behind him, as he shifted his weight, as he spun- fuck.

No, that was wrong.

He'd gotten the move wrong.

He's never had trouble with that part before, hadn't focused on it too much because of that.

Stupid.

He does that one move over and over again, until he loses count, until even the voice in his head gives up on saying 'just one more time.'

"Seonghwa?"

The voice was Hongjoong's, and it pulls Seonghwa out of his spiraling thoughts quite suddenly.

Seonghwa realized that he was breathing very hard, that there was sweat on his brow, that his skin was warm.

He must have been loud, lost control of himself and not noticed how much noise he was making.

Hongjoong was rubbing his eyes, his sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder.

"S-sorry," he had whispered, hating that he woke the other up.

Hongjoong eyed the table where it leaned against the wall, then squinted at Seonghwa, putting two and two together.

"Yah," his voice was deep with sleep. "Come back to bed, Seonghwa." He grabbed Seonghwa's forearm and pulled him along, pushing him onto his side of the mattress and then rolling in and curling around him.

"Love you," he mumbled, pressing a kiss firmly to Seonghwa's shoulder.

Seonghwa lay there for what felt like forever, chest still heaving slightly, mind still sinking.

An uneasy sleep eventually found him.

When he woke up, it was a very bad day.

There's no Hongjoong in his bed, but Seonghwa can hear him in the kitchen.

When he rolls over, he knows right away that he's empty.

Grey and gloomy.

He pulls the covers off anyway, an attempt to take control of the day, only for the chill of the apartment to meet his bared skin.

They have got to do something about the heating.

He grabs a turtleneck and a sweater, a pair of jeans and briefs, and shuffles across the hall to the bathroom, which he knows to be the hottest room in the apartment.