Golden Days | Markhyuck

8 | Fear

Donghyuck wakes up at around four in the morning, a dim light spilling from the kitchen, Mark sleeping peacefully with his arm still around him. He'd gladly just go back to sleep as well, but it feels so wrong, for some reason. The initial fuzzy comfort is gone, replaced with the same anxiety he's felt for weeks. They shouldn't be doing this. Not yet. Not when they still have things to discuss, not when there are things he's still not truly ready to face and accept.

He carefully worms his way out of Mark's grasp, paying close attention as to not wake him, and covers his form with the blanket. It feels cold without him, but he knows he can't stay. He shuts off the TV, wincing when the remote lands on the coffee table a little too loudly.

He writes a small note telling Mark to lock the front door when he wakes up, and, sparing one more lingering glance at him, slips out of the apartment.

It's only a few hours later when Donghyuck's phone rings.

He almost doesn't pick it up. He's frustrated with everything that's been going on lately, from that moment on that hill to the definitely-not-harmless things he felt while Mark was holding him like he was made of glass, so gentle, so unlike the awkward guy he's known forever. He doesn't want to have anything to do with it, he tries to remind himself. It doesn't work, because he knows exactly what's wrong.

He picks up the phone anyway.

Mark's sleepy voice breaks through the line. "Morning, Hyuck. Got home safe?"

There's a hint of disappointment in it. Donghyuck's energy drops almost immediately.

"Yeah. I'm alright."

"That's good. But you could have stayed, I really wouldn't have minded."

Donghyuck hates hearing the implication behind his words, the feelings, the emotions. His moment of weakness when he gave into his wishes is over, a memory to keep and lock away forever, not to continue amusing. But he's still speaking as if it's completely normal to do something like this, act like more than friends when they've barely made amends as is. As if it's supposed to mean something and at the same time should mean nothing.

"I couldn't."

All he hears for far too long is the faint hum and crackle of the call.

"I'm sorry."

It's not enough, and Donghyuck knows it, can feel it in the heavy silence that follows.

"Look, I..." He can't take it anymore. It's painful to keep existing like this, better to just get things over and done with. "We should meet up. Talk about stuff. Are you free this week?"

There's a bit of shuffling, the sound of pages turning, while Donghyuck waits impatiently.

"No, sorry. I have a bunch of projects due soon, so I have to focus on those. I might be able to free up some time next week."

Donghyuck sighs. "Okay." It's not really okay, but it's not like he can do anything anyway. "So... I'll see you at the party?"

Mark hums affirmatively, and again, it's completely quiet. Donghyuck feels like he should say something, anything, to relieve the tension, to clean up this whole mess. But nothing comes to mind.

"Talk to you later, Hyuck." The line clicks dead.

Donghyuck stares up at the ceiling for a long time, questioning himself, trying to make some sense out of himself and the way he feels. Mark is supposed to be his best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. That's what it was always meant to be. And even that's hard to follow through with nowadays. He wants more and at the same time nothing to do with him. It's far, far too much, the pain and misery and underlying hope that one day things will be okay, that he can have what he truly desires, even though it's so unrealistic of a dream he has to laugh.

He fights the feelings, tries to prevent them from becoming even more definite, but it's like cutting off the head of a monster only to watch it grow two in its place. Every time he resists, it just gets stronger until it completely takes over.

He's afraid, and he knows it. Behind all the hatred, the resentment, there's a deep, visceral fear of still holding affection for his best friend. It's why he can't let himself fall entirely. It's why he has to keep it together.

He simply doesn't want to get hurt again.

He just hopes that Mark will understand.