Deep End | Hyunlix

58

The night pressed heavy around him as Felix stood outside the studio door. The clouds hung low overhead, turning the street into a washed-out canvas of gray and shadow. His fingers hovered over the handle, his pulse thundering loud enough to drown out the world.

What am I even going to find in there?

He pushed the thought aside and twisted the knob. The door gave easily under his hand. Unlocked.

The smell hit him first, sharp and metallic, the scent of turpentine and paint mixing with something bitter, stale alcohol maybe.

Then his eyes adjusted. The studio was chaos.

Every canvas was destroyed, slashed down the middle or hurled across the room so violently they had snapped their frames. Paint streaked the floor like someone had poured it by the bucket and let it bleed. A half-finished sculpture lay in shards near the far wall, and brushes were scattered like fallen soldiers across the floor.

Felix's breath caught in his throat. He stepped inside, careful not to crush the artwork under his boots, but every step sounded too loud.

"Hyunjin," he called softly, his voice almost swallowed by the empty space.

Silence. His chest tightened. Why isn't he answering?

"Hyunjin," he tried again, louder this time.

Nothing. Fear coiled sharp in his gut. His mind immediately went dark, images of Hyunjin hurt, of blood, of the worst-case scenarios flashing like a reel he couldn't stop.

He moved deeper inside, weaving through the wreckage, until his eyes caught movement on the floor near the far corner.

"Hyunjin," Felix breathed and rushed forward, heart hammering.

The older was slumped against the wall, legs sprawled out, head tipped back, lips parted.

Felix dropped to his knees beside him, hands already moving, scanning for injuries. No blood. No visible wounds. His chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths.

Felix shook him gently. "Hyunjin. Hey. Wake up."

A groan. Mumbled words he couldn't catch.

Relief flooded Felix so hard it almost made him dizzy. He slumped back on his heels, letting out a shaky exhale. Drunk. Just drunk.

"God, Jinnie..." he whispered, brushing a strand of hair back from Hyunjin's face.

His eyes flicked around the room again. The empty bottles tipped over near the corner told him enough.

Felix found the older's car keys on the paint-smeared table near the door. Getting Hyunjin up was another battle entirely, he was heavy and uncooperative, muttering softly as Felix hauled him to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged him out to the car.

By the time he got Hyunjin into the passenger seat, Felix was sweating, his muscles straining.

I'll come grab my bike tomorrow, he thought grimly as he slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

He pulled out his phone with one hand and quickly searched for hotels nearby. Somewhere quiet, somewhere low-profile where no one would question why he was carrying a barely-conscious man inside. He booked the first room that matched and drove in tense silence, glancing over at Hyunjin every few seconds to make sure he was still breathing evenly.

When they arrived, Felix parked close to the entrance and maneuvered Hyunjin out of the car with more patience than strength. The older stirred only once, mumbling something incoherent before going slack again.

The clerk at the desk didn't ask questions when Felix gave him a curt smile and slid his card across the counter. Within minutes, he had the key.

He got Hyunjin inside without issue, somehow managing to unlock the door while balancing the older's weight against his side. He laid him down on the bed, carefully tugged off his shoes and paint-streaked clothes, leaving him in just a soft shirt and boxers.

Hyunjin shifted but didn't wake, his breathing steady but shallow.

Felix knelt beside the bed, his knees digging into the cheap carpet. For a long moment, he just watched him, his chest aching with something he couldn't name.

He brushed a hand lightly over Hyunjin's hair, smoothing it back from his face. The older looked so different like this, small, vulnerable, stripped of all the walls he kept so carefully built.

What am I supposed to do with you?

Felix stayed like that for what felt like hours, just watching the rise and fall of Hyunjin's chest, debating what he would say when the older finally woke up.

Would Hyunjin walk away from him again? Pretend none of this mattered? Or would this finally be the moment when he let Felix in?

Felix swallowed hard, his thumb brushing over the back of Hyunjin's hand.

Whatever happened next, he knew one thing: he wasn't leaving. Not tonight.

Felix stayed kneeling by the bed for a while, his hand still resting near Hyunjin's. The sound of his breathing, slow and even, filled the room. It was strangely grounding, but also unsettling, like Felix was holding his breath, waiting for the older to shatter all over again the moment he woke up.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him flinch.

It was Chan.

Chan: Where are you?

Felix stared at the message for a long moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. What am I supposed to tell him?

The truth wasn't an option. Not when the memory of their confrontation at the garage still burned hot between them. Not when Chan would have a thousand questions about why Felix was here.

He typed back quickly:

Felix: Out clearing my head still. I'll see you in tomorrow.

Chan wouldn't believe it completely, Felix knew that, but it would buy him time.

No reply came. The screen stayed dark.

Felix lingered by the bed, hand still brushing lightly over Hyunjin's hair. Every instinct in him screamed not to leave. What if the older woke up confused? What if he panicked? What if he walked out and disappeared before I could even explain why I'm here?

But the mess in the studio, the empty bottles, the exhausted slump of Hyunjin's body,  it all told Felix that tomorrow morning was going to be rough. He needed to do something, anything, to make it easier.

With a reluctant sigh, Felix stood and grabbed his jacket, glancing back one more time before heading for the door. His stomach knotted as he eased it shut behind him, like he was leaving something fragile and precious that might shatter if he stayed gone too long.

The convenience store was a few blocks away, bright under harsh fluorescent lights. Felix grabbed a bottle of water, some sports drinks, painkillers, a couple of protein bars, and a pack of wet wipes. Things Hyunjin might need in the morning, things that might make waking up in a strange hotel room slightly less miserable.

By the time he returned, the room was still quiet. Felix set the small haul on the table near the bed, to where Hyunjin would see it first thing.

He didn't bother changing out of his clothes, just sank into the loveseat in the corner, elbows braced on his knees. The room smelled faintly of paint and alcohol, a reminder of what he'd found tonight, of how close Hyunjin seemed to the edge.

Felix's gaze never left the bed. He sat there in silence, watching the slow rise and fall of Hyunjin's chest, waiting for morning to come.

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1166 words