then again, ends mean new beginnings ; nct markhyuck

2/?

"Why? Why are you saying sorry? This isn't even your fault."

"I'm saying sorry because I hurt you, and I still am hurting you."

"It's good to know that you know that, you absolute piece of shit."

"Why wouldn't I know that? Since I found out about what my parents were planning to do, did you think that I would wake up with a smile on my face, even when I knew that you were going to cry? Did you think that I would sleep with sweet dreams, even when I knew that you wouldn't even blink an eye? Did you think that I would be happy, knowing that I made the sun of my life sad? I can't do any of that, Hyuck. I love you too much to hurt you, because it would feel worse than hurting myself."

"You're making it so much harder for me to let you go."

Donghyuck's ears were filled by soft and sad laughter coming from his mouth.

"I know."

Donghyuck woke up at the feeling of something dropping softly on his lap. Prying his eyes open, he looked down to his lap and sees something small, round, and bright orange--a rubber basketball.

He frowned.

Besides, I had to come and visit this place again, for old times' sake.

"Excuse me."

Donghyuck looked to the side to see a teenager--assumedly at the age of 18--who was staring at the ball, sending Hyuck the hint that it was his.

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled, nervous as he was visibly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he talked to Hyuck. "May I have my ball back?"

Donghyuck looked at the boy, then smiled softly at him, handing his ball over to him. "Of course. Here you go."

After taking the ball back, the boy immediately bowed and hurriedly thanked him before turning around to return to wherever he was seated.

As he left, Donghyuck heard the voice of another boy.

"You idiot," the second boy told the first boy.

"Sorry, hyung," the first boy responded.

Donghyuck's smile started to falter at the sound of the two boys' laughter. It wasn't because of the boys. It was because of how the boys seemed to remind him of them together.

He heaved another sigh, feeling his heart become heavy. He leaned his head against the train window and closed his eyes again.

He expected to see little to no light. He expected to plunge back into sleep in silence and peace.

Instead, he started seeing him and every little thing about him--the way he rolls his eyes whenever someone, usually Donghyuck, makes a really stupid remark, or the way he smiles and tries to hide it to look like he didn't see it as amusing.

...then he didn't just see him.

He started hearing his snarky comebacks, his loud laughter and his continuous clapping that came with it.

He started smelling the scent on his clothes that he always caught every time they hugged or sat next to each other—light scents of cotton and bamboo from his roommates' scented candles.

He started remembering how it felt like to hold his hand and to hug him—warm and sweet, like hot chocolate at home in a chilly December morning, which was something he wished he had at the moment.

Donghyuck bit his lip, closing his eyes shut and shoving all of his thoughts aside to sleep.

It took him half an hour to fall back asleep.

He had to endure the pain of the hole on his heart the entire time he was awake and trying—the hole that was left by him, the hole that was never filled up by anything or anyone else.