coffee // markhyuck

3

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

Jeno’s mouth fell open as Jaemin lay there, not knowing what to say. He shrunk into the covers deeper, and interlaced his and Jeno’s fingers together. Jeno shook himself loose as Haechan stormed out of the room, his anger dissipating and turning into sadness. He ran down the stairs after him, catching him by the arm. Haechan whipped around, facing Jeno, and started to tremble.

“Jeno… just. Go put some clothes on and be with Jaemin. I’m obviously not good enough for you, so I’ll leave.”

Jeno shook as he processed what he was saying. He started to cry, tears making a wet path down his face. He let go of Haechan’s arm, and shrank back into the wall behind him.

“But- where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here. I’ll stay at a friends house until I find a place of my own.”

He paused for a moment. Before he left, he hesitated to ask something.

“Jeno- why did you do it? I don’t… was it me?”

Jeno looked at the boy who he cherished so much, and couldn’t find the words. Haechan nodded, knowing there wasn’t a good answer. He swept out of the house, and closed the door behind him. Through the painted wood, he could hear Jeno’s cries for him to come back, and then Jaemin’s whispers of questioning. He walked away from his old house before he could have second thoughts.

Focusing on his footsteps, he began to notice small, wet stains on his shirt. He had been crying without realizing it. Now that he was aware of them, the droplets ran more freely.

Haechan let out a small, strangled sob as he thought about what had just happened. His eyes glistened in the early moonlight, and he pulled out his phone. He was really crying now, enveloped in the loss. Loss. He had lost his boyfriend, his home, he didn’t even have a suitcase with him. He dialed his best friend’s number - even though minutes before his best friend had been Jeno - and waited for him to pick up.

After three rings, someone answered. He sounded groggy, and Haechan realized how early it was.

“Sorry, babe. It’s just Haechan, go back to sleep. Just a sec, Hyuck.”

Haechan waited and tried to calm down. It didn’t work, only making his breaths even more ragged as he cried even harder. He didn’t know where he was going, what he was going to do-

“Okay, I’m in the kitchen now. Haechan, why’d the hell you call me at three in the morning? You woke up Taeyong- shit, are you crying?”

“J-Jaehyun.”

“Haechan, are you okay? Where are you? Hyuck?”

His sobs echoed louder down the empty street as he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. He could hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and hushed tones of conversation.

“Taetae, go back to bed. Yes, Haechan’s okay… I think. Haechan, I’m coming over to the house. What happened?”

“It’s not- not my house anymore…”

“What? Haechan, I can’t understand you. Calm down. You’re not having another panic attack, are you? I’m in the car.”

Jaehyun promptly hung up, as Haechan sat down on the curb. His shoulders shook and his arms instinctively wrapped around his knees, pulling them up into his chest. Curling up into a ball, he tried to breathe. He was not going to have a panic attack, he told himself. Over and over again, he was not going to have a panic attack.

He took in deep breaths of air, keeping it in his lungs as long as he could. His light brown hair was stuck to his face, but he didn’t bother with it. He had been with Jeno for what seemed like forever. What was he going to do now?

Light footsteps sounded down the road, and Haechan curled into himself tighter. The footsteps came closer, and louder, before they stopped.

“... Haechan? Is that you?”