congratulations || jeongchan

- 5 - Droplets -

Thought we were meant to be

Jeongin stood frozen in place, the slight click of the door closing causing a thousand thoughts to rush through his mind. The real door was shut, but his mental one was flooded with too many thoughts. He didn't even notice the fact that he was crying.

Strong arms wrapped around him, the warmth of another body pressing against him bringing him into some form of reality. The gentle murmuring in his ear was incoherent, but Hyunjin's gentle voice flooded him with warmth.

Minho let out a slight huff and shook his head. The boy just wanting both of his friends to be happy again. Like they were before. Not that him and Jeongin were not close anymore.

He watched as the youngest boy folded himself further into himself: his body shaking slightly, tears leaving trails of black across his face from the vague eyeliner he was wearing. Hyunjin was coddling the boy close. Minho wasn't exactly sure if Hyunjin had seen Chan, he wasn't even sure why Hyunjin was here. Why either of them were here.

It was silent in the corridor, except for the exhausted sniffles of the youngest.

Jeongin's voice echoed slightly in the white-washed hall, "I told you he would move on." His fingers were trailing over the paint, leaving tiny dirty marks where the tiny creases in his fingertips were, his tongue running in and out of the divots in his braces.

His sobs died down slightly and Hyunjin took the opportunity to intervene, "Why don't we go inside?" He sent a meaningful look in Minho's direction, the eldest nodding slightly.

Jeongin buried his face in Hyunjin's hoodie, giving a slight shake of the head but Hyunjin persisted; the older boy holding him close as they made their way through the flat, Jeongin couldn't see but, for once, he didn't care. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to see anything at all.

Hyunjin left him in a room. Alone. But, truthfully, Jeongin supposed that's what he needed. Even if he would give Hyunjin hell for weeks for leaving him alone in a stranger's house. What a stupid thing to even consider doing. His eyes flickered lazily, taking in the curious place.

The bed was covered with cushions and teddy bears, strewn haphazardly across the surface. The walls were a shade of pale green, but had so many posters for bands and movies racked over them that you could barely tell. A large photo frame dominated the space above the bed, filled with photos of a group of boys in different places. Jeongin couldn't tell which one the room belonged to. If any of them.

But then he saw it, the framed picture on the bedside table, a boy with curly hair, glaring at the camera as he slurped noodles. His hoodie was a faded yellow, with orange stripes along the base. Chan. Wearing Jeongin's hoodie. This must have been before he met the boy outside. Jeongin couldn't deny that the boy was cute: fluffy sunset pink hair, smatterings of freckles and an easy smile on his concerned face. Essentially, everything that Jeongin never was and never would be. 

With shaking fingers, he traced over the small heart on the question mark. 

Frantically, the boy tore open drawers until he found what he was looking for. The pen was purple and glittery, with stains up the sides from where it had burst. Over and over again by the looks of things. It was a well-loved pen. Tears beginning to cloud his vision, he wrote across the inside of his wrist:

"Happy birthday, Chan hyung."

Nothing fancy, but just enough. If Chan had moved on then Jeongin supposed he should be mature about it. Sure, this was possibly the most distraught he'd ever felt and he had seen Coraline. But they were both old enough to know that what they were doing, whatever this whole avoiding-and-hoping charade was, they needed to pull their lives together. Yes, Jeongin thought, as the tears began to stream down his cheeks once again, that would just have to do.

A knock sounded on the door, Jeongin let out a croak of approval. The pink-haired boy awkwardly sidled in, looking slightly like a crab. Chan's boyfriend. And he looked like a crab. Why not? 

"Uh... hi?"

Jeongin waved, the other boy's hair was falling into his eyes, one of his freckles was slightly out of alignment with all of the others and his skin was vaguely tanned. As if he hadn't been in the sun but had somehow managed to tan while it was thundering. If that made any sense. It did to Jeongin.

"I'm Felix."

The Korean he spoke was tainted by an accent. Jeongin knew it was Australian. Knew from years of listening to Chan butcher words with his accent. He knew from so many memories and so many little fragments of ideas and Felix was looking at him with such concern that it made Jeongin want to scream because he didn't want this Australian, he wanted his Australian.

Felix sat down beside Jeongin on the bed and pulled a Ryan plushie into his lap, he noticed the ink on Jeongin's hands and gestures towards it with tiny fingers.

"Soulmate?"

Jeongin only nodded. Felix must know, he must be ripping the piss but it wasn't funny and it was actually making the smaller boy rather angry when he came to think of it. He didn't realise quite how vocal he was being, or the fact that he was being vocal at all, until he realised that he was stood up and screaming at someone who probably understood very little of what he was saying. And he was stupid. Jeongin was so, so stupid.

"Sorry." He mumbled, plopping himself beside Felix and squeezing his knee quickly in apology. It was weird, two boys who were normally talkative beyond measure, sat beside one another in utter silence as one of them fell to pieces and the other struggled to know why.

Chan. Was all Jeongin could think. Chan, Chan, Chan. 

Like a mantra.

A/N - This is so trash but oh well