hate everything // markhyuck

𝙙𝙞𝙙

haechan was fucked.

mark had looked at his phone and hugged him suddenly.

tears started streaming down his face.
he missed the older.

so much.

no matter how much he hated the him,
he still loved him.

"there's a fine line between hate and love, haechannie,"
doyoung once told
the bubbly young boy,
when he first told doyoung
about his mixed feelings towards mark.

the smaller boy instantly breaks down in the older's strong arms.

oh how he misses being in those arms.
the warmth.
the calming smell of sweet, sweet vanilla.
that comfortable sweater
he used to steal from mark.

mark hates how
donghyuck's clothes on himself
are as oversized as
his clothes on the younger.
he hates how
the younger doesn't hug back.
he hates how
he feels the younger's bones
through the thick sweater.
he hates how
he doesn't fit nicely in his arms.
he hates
that fragility donghyuck gives off.

and he knows he's the cause.

but something in the vocalist crashes.
he pushes the rapper away.

it's a soft push,
but mark felt it.

he felt everything.
from hatred to longing.
from numb to anger.
all in a small push.

"give me back my phone,"

"donghyuck, please.
look at yourself,
you're becoming a skeleton,"

he laughs with dried tears on his face.

"i'm so fat, what are you talking about?"

mark doesn't understand.

his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait, why are you wearing 2 layers?
It's freaking 35 degrees,"
haechan's head hangs low.
he just wants to head back to the dorm.

"no, it was freezing just now,"

mark picks the younger's hand.
his fingers venture through every familiar ridge and valley of the younger's hand.

the tips of his fingers were indeed chilly.
and his hand was perfect for human anatomy class.
skin stretched over bones and joints.

long and beautiful.
yet scarily thin.

but as his sleeves shifted,
it revealed red lines dancing on his arm.
some browns and
others were paints of red, purple and blue.

haechan froze.

mark felt his heart squeezed dry.

"hyuck,
what's happening?"