Broken Promise | Monsta X Jooheon

18//Night Changes

"Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes? Everything that you've ever dreamed of disappearing when you wake up. But there's nothing to be afraid of. Even when the night changes, it will never change me and you." — Night Changes, One Direction

Everything in the store was all closed up and Nana was upstairs sleeping but I didn't have anywhere to be or much of a reason to move from my spot yet so I didn't.

Instead, I opted for sitting at the table in the back where Jooheon and his friends sat, seemingly years ago. There was a nice, large window there where I could see all the people milling around and living their own separate lives, connected by an finite moment in time by a single street and a beautiful sunset sky.

It would be nighttime soon, but I didn't want to go home. God, I didn't want to go home. But I didn't want to go to the Slaughterhouse. I wanted to call Jooheon or Ajiad or Wonho or someone but at the same time I just wanted to be by myself.

My mind was no more closer to being clear than it had been a week ago. If anything it had gotten worse.

I didn't know what was going on and didn't even have much energy to fight it anymore.

I jumped as I came around the corner to the register and saw a tall, black-clad figure loitering outside the door.

I knew who it was instantly.

"What are you doing here, Jiho?"

Said boy looked up, and I raised an eyebrow at his now jet-black hair. I'd never admit the way it made my heart clench, reminding me of how things used to be. Of how there used to be one person in the world I could trust unconditionally.

"You like it? I just got it done a couple days ago. Had to keep myself busy while I gave you some space."

At that, I heaved a sigh. So much for some peaceful, confused alone time. I locked the door to the store and followed wordlessly behind Jiho as he led me down the street in the opposite direction of my house, deeper into downtown.

His arm was warm around my shoulders and his smell familiar as his body heat seeped into me, warding off the chill of the steadily colder days.

We walked for ten or fifteen minutes until we came to a modest apartment complex where Jiho opened the door for me and led me to the fourth floor where he apparently lived now.

"So you're here for good?" I asked as I stepped inside, reveling in the apartment's warmth.

Jiho scoffed. "You really think I would just try to insert myself back into your life if I was just going to leave again?"

At the withering look I gave him, he sighed.

"Ok, that's a fair response. Make yourself at home while I make some coffee. Do you still take yours the same way?"

I nodded and he wordlessly stepped away to the kitchen while I looked around.

Jiho had always, surprisingly, been good about packing and unpacking quickly so there were no cardboard boxes or stacks of items yet to be put away lying around, although it still seemed a bit bare in the way homes did when they hadn't yet had time to collect clutter or useless knick-knacks that you know you have no business buying and will never use but shell out the money for anyways.

The decor was all black and while with still accents of mismatched covers, action figures, albums, art, and DVDs organized neatly though I knew from experience they'd be in complete chaos in only a few months time and never get cleaned again unless someone else did it for him.

It fit Jiho perfectly but reminded me way too much of the apartment we used to share together.

A hot mug was thrust into my hands and I was being led to the sofa before I could protest — not that Jiho's stubborn ass would let me anyways, and I sighed as I taste the familiar, absolutely horrendous coffee that my tastebuds were well-acquainted with.