congratulations || jeongchan

- 1 - Fragile -

I don't even know how I can talk to you now

Jeongin twisted the wire of his headphones around his pinky finger, the sensation causing the tips of his finger to tingle and turn a curious shade of pink that wasn't quite red.

The audio quality distorted slightly as the headphones unravelled, not fully returning to their original shape. He smiled at that.

In front of him, a pile of books stood - untouched. The homework list was beginning to add up, but Jeongin just couldn't bring himself to so much as begin. He began to mark them along his ring finger, one line for every piece. The biro was running out but managed to last up to his knuckle. Seven. Seven lots of homework.

A small question mark appeared on his hand, an arrow connecting it to the series of lines. A sigh left Jeongin's lips, he chose to ignore the marking, instead flopping backwards onto his bed and letting out a muffled yelp as his knee smashed into the wall. The yelp was followed by a groan as the pain began to set in. He sighed once again, gently probing the tender skin with his ink stained finger.

And then, just like always, the thought of Chan began to consume him.

He traced his finger over the question mark repeatedly, tapping at the spot on his forearm where Chan used to draw little love hearts. Sometimes, Jeongin felt like all of this was his fault. Sometimes being most of the time. The question mark seemed to taunt him, laughing at him every time he lingered over it, reminding him exactly what he'd done. Exactly why he was refusing to speak to Chan. Wherever Chan was in the world.

Whoever he was with.

Maybe that was the hardest part of it all. Chan moving on. Jeongin has changed, he supposed. Chan had brought out this different side in him, someone who had a lust for life and wanted to see everything and know anything and love everyone. That Jeongin had faded a long time ago. That Jeongin faded when Chan left. 

There it was again. The fact that four letters made so many words:

Love,

Life,

Hope,

Food,

Chan.

Jeongin used to say that all this words were synonyms for one another. Another quirk he only ever let Chan see. But now one didn't quite fit in. His thesaurus was broken. So was he.

Him and Chan had been perfect for so long. Too long, Jeongin supposed, their love had turned stagnant. If any love had ever been there in the first place. Maybe it was just that urge that everybody has to be in love. They were both so desperate that they fell for each other. Even though Jeongin knew that was a lie, because they were soulmates. For some stupid reason, they just had to be soulmates.

Jeongin noticed things: the crack in his ceiling, the crease in his shirt, the light that was flickering on and off and on and off in rapid succession over and over and over until it made him feel sick.

He had always noticed things, from a very young age. Colours and numbers and little words and details that most people seemed to miss. He never shared them with anyone. Except Chan. But he never shared them all. Jeongin thought it was weird, the fact that he saw. And he couldn't stop seeing. Because there are some things in life that we just can't control. Seeing things was like a tic. Comforting and obsessive. 

He noticed the fact that when he breathed in, his stomach stuck out of the bottom of his hoodie slightly, because he material was pushed up his back from when he had stumbled. He noticed the fact that the hoodie filled the void that settled when he breathed out.

His phone blared, the vibrations spreading across his bed and aggravating his knee slightly. The notifications continued to come through. Probably Hyunjin. The elder never stopped texting Jeongin at the most inopportune times. Like right now.

Birds were twittering nervously outside, just edging Jeongin further into the void of dullness. It was easy to fool people into thinking that he was fine - a simple wave or extra nod, just to reassure them. But Jeongin wasn't fine. And only he knew.

The crack in his ceiling was becoming get more of a fissure, really, spiders could live in it at this stage and even the prospect of that terrified the boy so much that he shivered within his thick hoodie. Chan's hoodie.

Chan. 

Jeongin couldn't focus very easily, the rain had settled down now. The sun wasn't quite out yet. It was the little things that made the difference: the fact that the clouds made shapes in the sky and that the wind was always a little cooler after he had had coffee. It was weird. It was Jeongin.

The tap in his bathroom was dripping obnoxiously, one slight plink followed by another, over and over, like the thought racing through Jeongin's mind. Everything was amplified when he was in this state.

The question mark was dotted with a little, tiny heart. A promise that Chan was still there for Jeongin, despite the fact that Jeongin had hurt him. Despite the fact that Chan had hurt Jeongin. It was like a love triangle between two people, impossible but so hopelessly possible. Jeongin hated it. He hated the question mark.

Chan still cared. But that just hurt even more.

Jeongin turned back to the pile of homework, wishing it would just turn to dust and scatter into the air vent. He knew it wouldn't. But he could still hope.

Hope. What a novel concept.

A/N - This is a really cool concept. Me and my friend are writing this together, a Jeongchan soulmates au. Jeongin's chapters will be written by me and Chan's by Kaztiger - this was her late night thoughts idea after all. We won't be telling each other any of our plot ideas, it's going to be written with no communication between us. I really hope this works because I'm really excited about it. With love x