(Word count: 16205)
When Sunoo wakes for the third time to an empty room, it's with a sickening roll of his stomach.
The thin material of the curtains does nothing to block out the splash of sunlight that spills on through, casting the little room in a gentle wash of buttercup yellow. It warms his skin where he lays half wrapped up in his blankets, yet he can't quite find the will to revel in it like he has so many times before when his eyes fall to the empty space in unmade sheets across from him.
He woke early again. He thinks with a pang of his chest. He hates waking early.
He spends longer than he'd care to admit staring at the vacant bed across from him, tracing the messy heap of mismatched blankets and the indent in the feather stuffed pillow Jihyuns head had made a home of weeks and weeks ago, and there's a sort of hollow feeling in his chest, an anxious kind of niggling that rattles away behind his ribcage as he attempts a moment of quiet contemplation.
It's been three days. Three days since the fallout everyone seemed to know had been coming. Three days since he let himself be brave, let Jay in and-
Three days since he's properly spoken with his brother.
It's not as though you've really had the chance though, is it?
Every time he'll try to find a moment to pull Jihyun aside and speak his brother will find an excuse of any kind to shoot off in the opposite direction. He'll wake up every morning to an empty room, finds himself falling asleep to one just as much. The only reason he knows Jihyun's actually getting any sleep is because the messy shape of his sheets will find a new form with each morning, the indent of his body evident he'd lain in it at some point.
Sunoo had tried to stop him after breakfast but he'd been shrugged off and left in an empty hallway after his brothers uttered exclamations of ''I have to go now, hyung, otherwise I'll be late helping Ni-ki with training."
He's attempted to pick his brother up after long days of hard work, only to have Jihyun insist on waiting for a slighly awkward looking Ni-ki to hurry up and tag along.
And he knows that his frustration, perhaps even his hurt, is growing more evident with each passing day. He can see it in the way Jihyuns expression softens every time Sunoo grimaces at another of his excuses, in the way he almost looks as though he's going to lift a shaking hand and reach out.
There's only so much Sunoo can do to hold back, to not pressure his brother too much over a situation they're both having trouble dealing with. It feels as though the two of them are walking on eggshells around one another, the elephant in the room left to stand there under a too bright, flickering interrogation lamp.
And Sunoo's uncertain, so unsure of everything now.
Everything but the way he feels, that is.
No, that's one thing he is sure of, even if it has taken him weeks to admit to it.
He sighs as he turns over onto his back, eyes falling to the ceiling as a hushed whisper parts his lips. "What things are you most sure of, Sunoo?"
If he'd asked this question weeks ago he fears he may not have had the strength to answer it. He'd been too timid then, too afraid to admit to himself his own feelings.
Now, though?
He rakes in a steadying breath and purses his lips. What things are you most sure of, Sunoo?
