The Only Way to Stop Tomorrow
Title: The Only Way to Stop Tomorrow
Pairing: HunHan (Sehun/Luhan)
Length/Word Count: 7,400+
Summary: Sehun's guardian angel is the only one who can hurt him.
Warning: Mentions of depression and suicide.
Light shimmers through the branches of the tree outside of the bare apartment building, casting shadows into the dismal, gray room. A trace of the sun finds its way on to the covers that have been kicked to the edge of small bed that lies at the end of it. It creeps up like a vine onto the yellowing wallpaper, reflecting off the glass cover of an empty photo frame. The twinkling reflection hits Sehun’s face, who turns away to shield his eyes from the sun.
He sits against the headboard of his bed, knees curled against his chest. He drops his head, breathing raggedly. There are no more tears to shed, he realizes. He’s ignored the call of sleep the whole night through for those tears, and as the sun ascends, they have left him. The wetness on his arms aren't tears from his eyes. He looks at them, frowning. Grabbing the sheet from the end of the bed, he wipes off what he can before it dries. Red smears and angry lines dirty the paleness of his arms, and for a moment he can pretend that it’s beautiful; natural.
-
Sitting together across the lecture hall is Kim Jongin and Do Kyungsoo, who have pushed their chairs together and are secretly giggling about something on Jongin’s phone. Sehun sees them immediately as he walks into the hall, and looks away. But the picture of the couple is ingrained in his memory once again, and his spirits fall even farther if it’s even possible. He chooses a seat where he can’t see Jongin’s hand wrap around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulling them closer together.
That was them, only weeks ago, he remembers bitterly. Jongin had been his everything; he’d been someone for Sehun to rely on, the one person Sehun could talk to in times of need. Jongin had been his, until Kyungsoo had transferred to their university. The rich, quiet boy with wide eyes had immediately became friends with Jongin. And slowly, Sehun had realized that a friendship could progress to love. Sehun fights back the urge to cry as memories flood him: first noticing that Jongin no longer saw Sehun as someone he loved, that behind closed doors, his friendship with Kyungsoo had become something more. It had happened so quickly, so abruptly that Sehun still doesn’t understand what had happened- only that it still hurts him.
Luhan sneaks into the hall from the back door five minutes into class, a t-shirt thrown on haphazardly over a pair of jeans. He slips into the only open seat near the stairs, next to Sehun. Sehun glances over at the Chinese exchange student, and instead of raising his eyebrows like he normally would, his face shows no emotion. Luhan looks over at the younger boy, staring down at a blank page on his notebook. The professor continues to talk about the most important chapter before midterms, and instructs everyone to write down the following keywords. Sehun’s notebook remains blank; his pencil remains still.
After class, Sehun drops his head, tears falling on the still-blank piece of paper, hiding his face from the world as Jongin and Kyungsoo walk out the door hand in hand. Even after crying the whole night through, his eyes still have tears after only so little time. Luhan shoves his last book into his bag and stands to leave, turning when he sees that the other boy hasn’t moved. Sehun tries his best to hide the sniffling, but in the empty lecture hall, the sound echoes in Luhan’s ears.
“Sehun-ah, class is over. Let’s go get some bubble tea before our next class.” Luhan keeps his voice cheerful, although it threatens to betray his worry. Sehun looks up at him, and he can’t help but see the redness of his eyes.
“It’s too cold for bubble tea.” Sehun’s voice is emotionless, and he stands up. He throws his notebook into his backpack and walks out without Luhan. As he leaves the room, it’s not hard to notice a thin line of red seeping through the forearm of Sehun’s long-sleeved shirt.
-
Sehun turns the music up louder as he passes by the furnished buildings near campus, the dorms where the privileged reside. Maybe if the music is loud enough, it can drown out the world. Maybe it'll erase the knowledge that as of yesterday, the building holds a door that says KIM-DO. He speeds up, wishing that there was another route back to his own apartment, so he can return home without his throat choking up. His ears hurt from how loud his music is now, but he can forget the world. Luhan trails behind him, forgotten.
Sehun looks down at the book on his kitchen table, the same page he’s been staring at for an hour. A forgotten bubble tea sits next to his arm, a testament to the fact that Luhan ignored Sehun’s earlier claim. The other boy is busy slurping up the remaining balls of tapioca, sneaking worried glances at Sehun every few minutes. Neither of them has said anything in the hours since they’ve reached his apartment.
Luhan breaks the silence moments after the sun descends. Sehun still has not moved from where he’s sitting, the textbook still open before him.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it.” Sehun finally looks up at him. Luhan can’t figure out his expression, and it scares him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Seeing Jong-”
“Don’t say his name.” Sehun gets up and moves to the couch in his shabby living room, staring at a blank television.
“Sehun-ah…” Luhan is pleading now, all facades of cheerfulness gone.
“I don’t care if he wants to move in with his new rich boyfriend, Luhan. I’m not good enough for him, I get it. But it’s the least of my worries.” Sehun’s voice comes out as a strangled whisper, his emotions breaking through the bravado. For the nth time that day, his head drops down. He doesn’t want to see the pity in Luhan’s eyes as he sits down on the couch next to him. The room is silent again.
Luhan just grabs Sehun’s arm, softly running a hand across the scars through his shirt. The thin line of blood from earlier is still there, yet he says nothing. Luhan mutters only a soft “Sehun-ah, I’m your friend,” before Sehun bursts into tears and buries his face in the dip of Luhan’s neck. The older boy just holds him as he cries himself to sleep.
Luhan turns to look at the sleeping figure, and runs a thumb across his cheek to wipe off a lingering tear. In his sleep, there is no hint of agony on his face. He tightens his hold on the boy, and closes his eyes. He whispers a few words in Mandarin before falling asleep.
“一切都会好的”
-
Each night grows longer, and the sun no longer shines through the tree to cast shadows into Sehun’s bedroom. His nights are spent sleeping now, and thoughts of being alone no longer haunt his dreams. Instead, he remembers only the good things now.
The weather grows colder, and each morning he trudges to class with Luhan, grumbling about how cold it is and how unfair it is that the only time their university holds their class is before eight in the morning. And each day, Luhan will smile and hand him a bubble tea, until it’s too cold for him to buy it in the mornings. Then he’ll buy coffee or tea from Starbucks, because he’s friends with barista, Zitao.
Pretty soon, Sehun finds himself smiling again, right as the snow starts to fall. Along the way, Sehun’s found that Luhan has always been there, during the nights where he falls prey to thoughts of Jongin, or when he tries to reach for his razor again. He holds him when the sobs can no longer be suppressed, and throws away the blades when Sehun finds a new hiding place for them. When everyone else abhors the winter for its gloominess and cold, Sehun only hates it because he’s stuck in sweaters. He wants to finally be able to wear short sleeves again, because the scars are fading.
-
Christmas time approaches, yet neither Sehun nor Luhan have gone home. Days fly by as they stay indoors in either Sehun or Luhan’s apartment, watching movies or arguing about who has the cuter face. Sehun disagrees when Luhan claims that he can’t be cuter, because not only is he older, but because he’s also manlier. Sehun laughs and Luhan shoves a pillow in his face.
Christmas day comes and Sehun wakes up earlier than Luhan, who has lived in his apartment for the entirety of their winter holiday. He bounces up to the sleeping Chinese boy on his couch, ignoring the clock that reads 6:26 AM. Holding a small box behind his back, he giggles and pokes Luhan’s cheeks relentlessly, even after he swears at him in Mandarin and swats him away, threatening to kill him multiple times.
Around 7:15, a grumpy and finally awake Luhan is sitting up on Sehun’s couch, wrapped in blankets and holding a mug of hot chocolate. He glares daggers at Sehun, who thrusts the small box into Luhan’s lap, and prompts him to open it. Inside lays a single strip of paper, with Sehun’s handwriting scrawled across it. Luhan bursts out laughing as he reads the words.
I admit I have the cuter face.
Luhan makes Sehun do bbuing bbuing for him before he gives him his present, which turns out to be a snapback and a Justin Bieber album. Sehun protests because Luhan had only spent his money buying them matching Bieber headphones months earlier, but Luhan laughs it off and calls him out on not wanting to do more aegyo.
-
New Year’s comes and goes, and Sehun clutches to each fleeting moment of his holiday- and free time with Luhan. He shudders at the thought of term starting again, of nights when nobody is there to offer a shoulder during the darkest hours. He’s frightened of growing weak again, of reality shattering the fantasy world that contains only the two of them.
The scars on his arms are a testament to Luhan. The bleeding gashes had turned to angry pink lines, and then slowly faded to various shades of white. Luhan had thrown away every razor and blade, and fought back for him when Sehun was at his weakest. He'd formed a habit of holding Sehun's arms, as if to say that he would be there to protect Sehun where he was most vulnerable.
Sehun finds himself falling in love with his newfound guardian angel along the way. It doesn’t hit him suddenly, his breath doesn’t catch when he looks at him, and his heart never speeds up. But the trailing fingers across his arms leave blazing paths, bubble tea tastes sweeter than ever, and haunting thoughts can be silenced with one gentle “Sehun-ah~”. And when the thought of term starting and Luhan returning to his own apartment frightens Sehun, a sparkling smile from Luhan can erase all those fears.
-
Luhan drags a reluctant Sehun out to the middle of a quiet park two days before term begins. The two of them walk in silence, shoulder to shoulder. Sehun looks up every so often, admiring the icy glisten of the tree branches, and the few persevering leaves that refused to fall. Their shoes crunch in the bits of snow that lie on the shoveled path. Though ice and cold surround them, the park seems to emanate warmth.
Sehun turns to look at Luhan, who seems in awe of everything. His eyes wander, taking in the ice-covered wonderland, a smile lingering on his lips. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes shine brighter than the white glare of snow, which suddenly seems dull in comparison to Luhan. And while Luhan admires the beauty in the park, Sehun only sees the beauty in the boy beside him.
They end up walking to Starbucks on Luhan’s insistence after Sehun nearly falls into a pile of snow from not paying attention to his steps. As they enter the café, a cry of “LUHAN GE!!” accompanies the smell of coffee. They look up to see two figures hunched over a small table. A tall, black-haired boy with bags under his eyes is waving at them.
Zitao stands up, brushing off his green apron. He gestures behind him, to a grinning boy with a dimple, as he walks over to Luhan, who waves at them.
“I was on break when Yixing Ge walked in here. I thought he was in China, but he says he wanted to visit campus.” Zitao pulls Sehun and Luhan over to the small table and gestures for them to sit.
Yixing smiles sheepishly at them. “Well, I wanted it to be a surprise, really. I’m just going to be here for a while anyways, since I’ve taken this term off of university. And I wanted to meet this Oh Sehun you were telling me about, Luhan.”
Sehun stares at him, and then he turns to look at Luhan. Yixing grins at him, but Luhan looks away, a slight hint of pink staining his cheeks. Zitao stands up, holding in laughter, and pulls Yixing away with a chirp of “Well, I need to get back to work and I promised you a tour of our kitchen…”
The tension that remains at the small table is tangible. Sehun finds himself smiling against his will, as Luhan’s cheeks grow redder.
Luhan suddenly stands up and looks down at Sehun. “Hyung-” Sehun starts.
“Let’s go home, Sehun-ah.” Luhan smiles and grabs Sehun’s hand, pulling him out of the Starbucks, ignoring Zitao and Yixing’s prying stares from inside the kitchen. They bolt down the street before Luhan decides to slow down, loosening his grip on Sehun’s wrist without letting go. Sehun slides his fingers down, his hand slipping comfortably into Luhan’s, and leans into him slightly. He hears Luhan gasp softly, and without looking he can see the smile form on his lips.
-
The days fly by faster than Sehun likes. The time between morning classes and the time Luhan leaves his apartment with his textbooks and bags and a cheerful “Goodnight Sehun-ah!” is too short, and the days are never long enough to savor. But the snow melts and with the flowers, Sehun's love for Luhan blooms. There are no more dark nights and forced smiles, no more fears of lonely nights and haunting thoughts.
Sehun looks up at the picture frame, which now holds a photo of him and Luhan at an amusement park. Zitao and Yixing had insisted that they go before Yixing had to return to China for the summer. Luhan had protested wholeheartedly, claiming that once Yixing came back again that fall he could go to the amusement park. Sehun soon figured out why as soon as they stepped on the first ride at the park that day: Luhan had an allergy to high places. He had spent the entire day clutching to Sehun to steady himself.
Sehun stares up at the picture, his fingers trailing against his waist where Luhan had held him that day. The park was amazing, yet he could only remember the Chinese boy at his side. Each detail seemed as clear as if it happened only moments before: Luhan’s laugh, his tight grip around Sehun’s waist, his head on Sehun’s shoulder as he fell asleep on the drive home, the feel of their fingers intertwined with each other’s.
Perhaps, they would go to the park again when Yixing came back from China.
-
The airport feels oddly hostile and empty. Yixing holds a bag and two boarding passes in his hand, his ticket to China for the summer.
“Sehun-ah, I’ll be back soon, okay?” Luhan’s hands rest gently on Sehun’s shoulders. Their foreheads are touching, and Sehun tries to tighten his hold around Luhan’s waist.
“I know, but you don’t even want to go. Couldn’t you wait until I save up the money so I can go with you? Just stay here with me, hyung.”
“I promised Yixing I’d go back with him and talk to my parents about staying in Korea.”
“Come back at the end of the summer even if they say no.” Sehun can hear the wavering in his voice and he can feel the lump in his throat. He blinks away the tears in his eyes and rests his forehead on Luhan’s shoulder, wishing he could keep him this close forever. Luhan rubs a hand down his back, comforting him.
“I’ll be back for you no matter what, Sehun-ah. I wish I could stay here and protect you from everything.” Luhan smiles at Sehun and presses his lips gently to his cheek, slipping out of Sehun’s hold. Sehun stares at his form as he ascends the elevator with Yixing to the second level of the airport, where a plane waits to take them a thousand kilometers away.
The days pass too slowly now, the red X’s on Sehun’s calendar counting off each day until it becomes a month. Knowing that tomorrow will come has never been more of a comfort than it is now.
-
There are pictures and emails sent each day, crossing over the ocean from computer to computer, phone to phone. Each of them starts with a greeting and a smile, and ends with “사랑해, see you soon!” It becomes a routine: Sehun goes to the bubble tea shop that he and Luhan went to, sits where they sat, orders a taro bubble tea, and reads the emails over and over until he can see the words even when he closes his eyes.
He frowns slightly when there are more and more pictures of Luhan and Yixing and a blonde boy named “Kris”, and less and less words in the emails. He replies cheerfully, and writes back that he misses him too, but he fights to push back the questions. He’s not jealous, he thinks, that there’s another boy he doesn’t know and a boy that he does know, smiling and cuddling and spending time with the boy he loves. Instead, he just worries as to why the emails only account for the trio’s daily activities and less about Luhan’s family.
Every two or three nights, Sehun waits by the phone for Luhan. It’s hard not hearing his voice every day, but international calling is expensive. They spend hours on end, talking about nothing and everything, laughing and joking around. Luhan never fails to remember to ask, “Sehun-ah, are you eating ok? Are you remembering to do everything you have to? Sehun-ah, I hope you would be happy and if you have any problems tell hyung, I’ll settle it for you.” Sehun laughs every time and says that there’s no problem, he’s fine, and that’s just happy to hear Luhan’s voice. He conveniently forgets to mention that yes, he has a problem. He represses the urge to yell through the phone I miss you and I really wish you were here in my apartment with me and cuddling even though it’s too hot in Korea already, and I don’t want you over there with Kris or Yixing, and I hate that your emails are shorter and I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore. Instead, he plasters on a smile even though Luhan can’t see it, and just gently tells him to come back soon because I really miss you, hyung.
-
“Hi Sehun.” Sehun looks up from his phone to see Jongin sitting down at his table in the shop, a vacant look in his eyes. His heart aches a little at seeing the boy he stopped talking to nearly a year ago.
“Hi.” The word feels a bit too stiff and unnatural.
“I was passing by and I saw you. We haven’t talked in a while, not since you’ve been with Luhan.” Sehun’s heart aches a little more hearing Luhan’s name, but he pushes down the feeling.
“Jongin, you stopped talking to me after you left me for Kyungsoo.” His voice sounds a bit too hurt, too accusing now. A smile forms on Jongin’s lips, but his eyes turn sad when he looks at Sehun.
"That was a mistake. I loved you, but I loved him too. I still do, actually.” The past tense doesn’t escape Sehun, but Jongin continues. “You know, I feel like maybe I know what you felt like. But it’s all in the past. It’s too easy to get hurt, isn’t it? Just be careful, Sehun. Luhan might not be all he seems.”
"I don't know what you mean."
"Just be careful. I regret what I did to you; don't let someone else do it too..." He trails off and turns to look at Sehun pointedly before getting up and ordering a bubble tea to go.
Sehun looks back down at his phone, and turns on the display. An email flashes onto the screen, accompanied by a picture of Luhan and Kris smiling in front of a bubble tea shop in Beijing. He smiles at the sigh, but a feeling of doubt blows through his mind. Jongin’s words echo loudly in his ears. Sehun turns off the display and tucks his phone away, refusing to look at it anymore.
Only a little more than a week left, he reminds himself. Then everything will be ok again.
-
Thick fog is visible right outside the glass walls of the airport, swirling around everything and giving a feel of winter in the middle of summer. It covers the line of cars and buses lining the curb, seeping into every opening. Sehun shivers and buttons up his thin cardigan, wishing that the airport’s air conditioning didn’t mimic the outside weather so well. He stares at his watch again, wishing the fog would disperse and let Luhan’s plane land already. He’d been here hours too early, too excited to wait in his apartment.
The first arrivals step through the opening at the other end of the room, a slow trickle of sleepy-eyed people pulling or pushing their bags. A few of them call out to friends and family who stand up and run to them, others pull to the side and take out a phone. Sehun stands up as more and more people step through the gate, eyes scanning for Luhan’s telltale honey-colored hair in the crowd. The chatter slowly dies down as people leave in loud, happy groups, each passing by Sehun. A handful of people remain now: an old couple sitting on the benches, staring out of the airport; a teenager texting on her phone; a group of business men, each trying to flag down a cab.
Sehun frowns and pulls out his phone, checking the flight information and whether he had come a day early. A familiar voice sounds from across the room, and he looks up to see Yixing strolling slowly towards him. Sehun lets out a loud yelp and runs toward him, looking behind him to look for Luhan. He stops a few feet from where Yixing is still walking slowly, his black hair mussed and a facemask covering his mouth. Seconds tick by slowly, the sound of Sehun’s panting and the wheels of Yixing’s baggage clicking over the linoleum. They stand there, silently assessing each other, as if they were waiting for something to happen. Minutes pass before either makes a move, but then Yixing turns and stares at Sehun.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” The facemask muffles his words, and it’s a few seconds before Sehun makes out his accented Korean.
“I wanted to surprise Luhan. I haven’t seen him in so long. Where is he?” Sehun cranes his neck around Yixing, staring intently at the blank space behind him. Somewhere off to the side, a group of teenagers chatter excitedly as they spot their friend texting. One of them spills coffee on herself as she runs, squealing loudly. Sehun momentarily wonders if that’s what he looked like running to Yixing.
“Are you ok?” Yixing’s question snaps Sehun out of his thoughts. His face shows traces of worry as he studies Sehun, who is still looking over his shoulder. He nods distractedly, eyes shifting around the room. It’s been several minutes now.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be? Where’s Luhan, though? He’s taking a really long time. They didn’t lose his baggage, did they?” Yixing’s face shows more worry than before now.
“Sehun, he didn’t tell you?” His voice is more inquisitive now, with genuine traces of concern. Sehun turns to look at him, disgruntled at having to turn away.
“Tell me what, Zhang Yixing?” They stare at each other, one impatient and one carefully examining the other.
“Luhan… didn’t tell you that he’s not coming back? At least, not for a while. That’s why I didn’t expect to see you here.” Yixing’s words assault Sehun’s ears, echoing repeatedly. He’s not coming back…
Sehun stares at him, and what was left of his smile vanishes completely. Luhan was still in China and there was no way of telling if he’d come back. He'd gone back to talk to his parents at Yixing's insistence; they'd likely forbid him to return to Korea. Turning on his heel, he walks towards the exit, blinking away the tears threatening to stream down his face. Yixing hadn't forseen the consequences, even Luhan hadn't expected to not come back. He breezes through the automatic doors and breaks into a run, forgetting Yixing. He can feel the lump in his throat begin to form; he had looked forward to this day for several weeks, and he felt as if in a single minute, everything had been taken away from him.
Yixing sighs and picks up his bags. He’ll have to find his own ride back to his apartment.
-
Sehun calls Luhan that night, fingers scrolling through his contacts list as quickly as he can, cursing when he passes the name several times. Between the time it takes for him to hit call and the first ring, he wonders several times why he hasn’t set up a speed dial list yet. Between the second and third call he’s wondering if he has become completely and utterly alone in the world. After the fifth ring, he reaches Luhan’s inbox, and a familiar voice fills Sehun’s ears, fills Sehun with longing and confusion and desperation. He sinks down to the ground, his back against the edge of the couch and redials the number. Luhan picks up after the first ring with a quiet “Sehun-ah?”
Sehun chokes back a sob when he notices how quiet Luhan is, and wonders if this had become a trend. If in the last few calls, Luhan’s voice had gotten quieter and quieter, if the hint of sadness and regret had been there, if Sehun had only worried for himself and when he could have Luhan back. Sehun thinks back to the times he’d fallen asleep on Luhan while talking, and wonders if he’d unknowingly mumbled a half-hearted response to Luhan, if and when he had mentioned he would not be coming home.
“Sehun-ah, are you there?” Luhan’s voice crackles through the phone again.
“Hyung, I miss you.” Sehun’s voice is hoarse now, and he notices a solitary tear that has escaped. For the first time, he doesn’t know what to say.
“I miss you too.” Luhan’s voice sounds equally as hoarse, strained to a point that Sehun has never heard. He realizes this is the first time he’s heard anything but positivity in Luhan’s voice. The realization jars him, and he notices with more clarity the quiet sniffles emitting from his phone.
“You didn’t tell me you weren’t coming back.” The question hangs in the air, seeping into the darkness in Sehun’s apartment, threatening to overwhelm him. He closes his eyes and leans back against the frame of the couch, and desperately hopes Luhan didn’t mention it before.
“I am coming back, I promised. Just, not right now. I can’t right now. I’m staying with Kris until I can figure out how to return.” Luhan sounds too optimistic, despite the pain in his voice. “I just… I don’t know what to do right now, Sehun-ah. I’m too far away but I can’t leave.”
“Why?”
“Because my parents want me in China, not in Korea. And they’re threatening to disown me and I don’t- there’s not-”
“Not that.” Sehun cuts Luhan off. He hates the sound of jealousy overtaking his sadness in his voice. He grits his teeth, regretting the statement before it leaves his mouth. But it’s too late.
“Then what?” Sehun bites his lower lip and shudders. He looks down at his vacant hand shaking violently, and he balls it into a fist.
“Why are you living with Kris, hyung?” The question is filled with resentment. Sehun berates himself for whining, hating the way he says it. The silence over the phone is palpable. The seconds before Luhan replies feels like hours, and Sehun finds himself biting too hard on his lower lip.
“I have nowhere else. I can repair my relationship with my parents but for now, Kris is all I have.”
“You have me. You know I’m here for you, like you… I’m here for you like you were always here for me.”
“I know, Sehun-ah. I know. But Kris is in China. It doesn’t do us any good if you chase me over a thousand miles.” Luhan’s voice is still just as quiet, but he sounds more tired than before. He sighs into the phone, but says nothing else.
“Luhan… I just wish there was something I could do. I don’t want you there with Kris… I just want you with me. I don’t trust-”
“I’m sorry, Sehun-ah. I want nothing more than to be there too, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.” Luhan spits out each word, annoyance mixing in with exhaustion. Sehun chokes back a sob, no longer bothering to wipe away the tears. He clutches the phone a bit tighter, and speaks one last sentence before hanging up and breaking down.
“I’m sorry for bothering you, Hyung.”
-
Light shines through the windows too early in the morning, a bird landing on the tree branch, chirping loudly. A pillow flies across the room, hitting the window and bouncing off harmlessly, landing noiselessly on the bare floor. Sehun sits curled up on the bed, bags under his bloodshot eyes. He hasn’t had a sleepless night in months, and suddenly fighting off the grips of depression seems all too exhausting.
His phone lies in the corner of his room. He stares at it, torn between the desire to crush it and to save it. In between calling Luhan for the seventh time and hanging up before the first ring, he had thrown the phone across the room, no longer wanting to see it. He would rather forget, rather pretend that the ticket for yesterday had never been bought, and that Luhan had just had an extended stay in China. He would rather pretend he remembers nothing, than remember his actions and childish jealousy. But no matter how hard he tries, the exasperation and tired sound of Luhan’s voice echoes in his mind.
The phone rings in the corner; Sehun turns away. He lost count how many times it had sounded over the course of the night, Luhan’s picture shining brightly. Instead, Sehun had just let them go to voicemail, clawing at his sheets. A part of him wants nothing more than to talk to Luhan, to cry into the phone and have him fend off the shadows again, but another part of him feels the shadows advance faster each time he thinks of Luhan. So instead he ignores the calls and bites his lip, feeling the tears and blood flow alike. A week old memory stirs in his mind, a familiar voice saying, It’s too easy to get hurt, isn’t it…? The phone stops ringing and goes to voicemail.
Sehun spends the next few days like a ghost. Each morning, the mirror tells him that he has no emotions, yet inside he feels a storm threatening to tear him apart. He wanders around the campus, passing by groups of prospective first year students unnoticed. The cashier at the bubble tea shop waves to him every so often, but even he stops gesturing for him to come inside. There are too many thoughts weighing down Sehun’s mind, and his internal desires are the heaviest of them all.
A week later he finds his feet leading him down a familiar park trail, an echo of some happy memory from months ago. He finds himself in front of a Starbucks café, standing indecisively in front of the door. Inside, Zitao is wiping down a table, balancing a tray in his other hand. Looking up, he waves at Sehun, who sighs and walks inside. The familiar scent of coffee surrounds him, bringing him back to that one January day with Luhan. He sits down at the same table, not sure of what to do. Zitao glances at him before disappearing into the back room, coming back seconds later with Yixing trailing behind him, wearing the same green apron.
He sits down at the table, inspecting Sehun while Zitao returns to the counter. Sehun squirms uncomfortably under Yixing’s still gaze, wondering if he would start moving or speaking or something. Finally, Yixing sits back and stares at him, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“You could’ve at least given me a ride back to campus.” He pulls out his phone, looking away as Sehun stares at him, dumbfounded at the simple statement.
“That is true.” Zitao sets down two cups of coffee on the table, laughing as he agrees with Yixing. Sehun glares at him, regretting having walked into the shop.
“He doesn’t even go here!” The outburst causes an onslaught of giggles from both Yixing and Zitao. Annoyed, Sehun stands up to leave before Yixing grabs his arm.
“Stop for a moment, Sehun.” His tone is suddenly serious, all hints of amusement gone. “I know you miss Luhan. He misses you too; you haven’t replied to his emails, haven’t picked up his calls. I’m not going to ask what’s wrong with you because I’m not supposed to alienate you, but you’re not exactly making this easy on either of you. You know how much we care about you, especially him. And now you’re acting like this and it isn’t exactly fair to anyone, especially yourself.” Sehun curses under his breath and yanks his hand away. Yixing holds out his phone to Sehun, a familiar voice emitting from the speaker.
“Sehun..? Are you there?” Sehun falters for a moment, every bit of resistance he’s built up slowly disintegrating at the sound of Luhan’s voice. He sounds so weak, so unlike the happy, strong boy Sehun had fallen for months ago.
“Hyung…” Sehun chokes out the words, his voice shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zitao shake his head and motion for Yixing to follow him into the back room. Sehun grabs the phone and sits back down, resting his head with his other hand.
“Sehun-ah, you’ve been avoiding me,” Luhan accuses. A single tear drops onto the table top. “I didn’t know what I did wrong. You just hung up and stopped answering.” Another tear.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Luhan…” A third tear falls on the first.
“Then why did you stop talking to me? I’m already so alone here, Sehun-ah.” Luhan is pleading now, and Sehun’s lost track of the amount of tears on the table.
“I don’t know. I just, I feel so vulnerable, and… you have Kris, hyung.” Sehun hears a sigh on the other end of the phone.
“I didn’t mean that when I said he was all I had. You know what I meant.”
“No, I understood you fine. You were perfectly right. Kris is all you have right now. I can’t be with you; I don’t know what it’s like in China…” The tears threaten to manifest themselves vocally. Sehun fights back, trying to keep his voice as steady as he can.
“He’s all I have in China. But the distance can’t take away that you’re there. I promised I’d be back, didn’t I?” Sehun can hear Luhan fighting to steady his voice as well. He wonders how many tears have fallen from the large doe eyes. “I promise, Sehun-ah. Just promise me you’ll be ok. Don’t do anything to yourself, be strong. I’m still here too.”
Sehun nods, despite knowing Luhan can’t see him. The tears are continuous now. “I will, Hyung. But don’t make me wait too long.”
-
The calls and emails are regular again after that. It takes Sehun the rest of July to be ok with the idea of Luhan being elsewhere. They talk through August, pretending nothing’s wrong. But by September, the first classes begin and Sehun is suddenly more tired of being alone than ever.
It hurts, he realizes, being alone. He realizes it now more than he did when Jongin had first been with Kyungsoo, more than when Jongin had first left him. Because he’s alone, but his heart belongs to someone who still wants it. Nobody else can come in and save him, and it’s like an anti-depression drug he’s grown immune to.
The thoughts find their way back in, and slowly overtake him silently. Nights of sleeplessness and doubts come back more often, and painful memories resurface. The same things hold less interest; everything holds less interest now. It doesn’t make sense, not when he still has Luhan, but resisting takes more energy that it’s worth.
The world fades into grayscale. Somewhere along the line, Sehun’s found that he no longer cares. The inner turmoil he battles with even fades to a dull noise, until lonely four AM mornings when nothing seems to be okay.
It hurts, he realizes, being alone. But even the pain can be dulled if it becomes the only thing out of place in a world of gray. It can be dulled every few nights during phone calls with Luhan, when he can close his eyes and pretend that it’s December again, clutching each other and laughing. He can listen to Luhan talk to fill in the empty space between them and pretend that everything is ok. And eventually he finds it easier to lie and just say “yes hyung.” when Luhan asks if he’s taking care of himself.
This time around, he finds, he’s given up. Constant dark circles make it easier to conceal restless nights of silent tears; a lack of a smile hides a lurking frown. He has no more fight left to give.
He also finds it ironic that he’s worse off, even without the blades that Luhan had thrown away months ago.
-
As the leaves change color and begin to descend from the trees, Sehun sees the world in grays. When the first rains and snows start early in November, the contrast changes to black and white. Sometime between then and now, Luhan had stopped saying that he’d be home soon, instead referring to China as home.
Kris’ house as home, Sehun thinks bitterly each time. The phone calls are more cheerful now, a moment of color, but tinted with gray mentions of China and Luhan’s steadily more permanent life.
The first phone call made when the snow starts to stick is a desolate black.
“Sehun,” Luhan whispers, “I’m sorry.” Sehun can't detect any trace of the returning happiness in his voice.
“I… don’t want you to wait for me anymore.” Sehun sets the phone down here, and presses speaker. His hands are shaking too violently to hold it. “I don’t know if I can really come back, and it’s already late November. You’ve waited for me too lo-” Sehun makes a strangled noise here, and Luhan had stops speaking for a moment. Moments pass before Luhan continues, not hearing Sehun whisper hyung, no… into the open space too quietly.
“My parents are… tentative, but they have agreed for me to come back later. But, I want to make sure I won’t have to go back and repeat this. As well, Kris is going through some… difficult times. I can’t leave now after all he’s done.” Sehun bites his lip too hard here, drawing blood. “Sehun-ah, please don’t wait for me. I’ll be back when I can, but until then I think we- you shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”
Sehun merely replies with an “I’ll still wait for you, hyung,” and hangs up.
Sehun misses the blades more than ever.
-
A plate shatters on the wall and joins the piles of broken porcelain and glass. Sehun looks at the pile apathetically, and reaches for the next plate in his cabinet. He ignores the blood flowing out of his knuckles, a reminder of the hole in his bedroom wall.
“Sehun, are you in there?” Sehun’s hand stalls for a moment before throwing a plate at the door. He can hear Yixing sigh before opening the door and slipping inside, raising one eyebrow as he notices the disarray of the apartment.
“Sehun, nobody knows where you’ve been for a week now.” Sehun glares at Yixing with red eyes. “We needed to know you had died or done something to yourself. For all we know you could’ve-” Yixing cuts off, looking suspiciously at Sehun. “Luhan told me to check in on you.” Yixing easily dodges the china bowl, which shatters on the floor beside him.
“I don’t care.” The words sound so lifeless, so nonchalant, and yet to Sehun’s ears, so desperate. He stands up and wipes the blood off on his jeans, and pushes past Yixing to the door. “I don’t care,” he repeats. “I really don’t.”
-
The airport is about eighteen degrees Celsius higher inside the airport than it is outside. Yixing walks into the airport frowning, and he pulls the headphones off, putting them around his neck. He wonders if he’s forgotten anything.
“Yixing! You’re late.” He looks around and sees Luhan stand up, clutching several bags. Yixing remembers now; he’d forgotten that he’d been late. Luhan walks over to him, a pair of matching headphones around his neck. He follows Yixing back out of the airport, smiling as he looks at the familiar sky. He’s missed Korea, and its beauty even in the midst of the cold December weather. He slides into the back of the taxi with Yixing, a smile stretching across his face.
“Do you think Sehun will be surprised? To see me? It’s been a while.” Luhan looks over at Yixing, who looks away. Luhan notices the purple headphones around his neck, a pair that looks similar to the ones he’d bought Sehun a year ago.
“He gave these to me.” Yixing looks at Luhan, a hand on his headphones. Luhan nods, remembering the phone call. Sehun was still mad at him, then. It explained why he hadn’t come to pick him up.
“Ge ge… I have something to tell you.” Yixing’s voice is solemn now, as if he had remembered something else. He pulls out a white envelope, with Luhan’s named written on it in familiar handwriting. “They found this Sehun’s apartment. Nobody’s read it yet…” Luhan suddenly feels colder, colder than the weather outside.
“They?”
“They. Someone was found in the Han River a week ago…” Yixing trails off; the sentence is too hard to finish. Luhan stares at the letter from inside the envelope. He lets out a shuddering gasp and quickly folds it up, shielding it from the tears that have begun to drop from his eyes.
-
Luhan sits with Sehun, looking up at the sky. It’s January now, but the sky is clear today. He inhales a breath of crisp, cool air and smiles.
“Sehun-ah, isn’t it pretty? Do you remember last year, Yixing let it slip that I liked you? I’d liked you for a long time, but when you grabbed my hand, I felt so happy.” Luhan wipes away a single, happy tear and stands up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sehun-ah. I love you, don’t forget that, ok?”
He walks away, leaving a bouquet of flowers with Sehun.
-
Ok so I was supposed to finish this like last week oops. I'm sorry though. Don't hurt me ;A;
一切都会好的: Yi qie du hui hao de: Everything will be ok
사랑해: Saranghae: I love you (casual)
ALSO. IT WAS INSPIRED BY THE GODDAMN OF LUHAN BEING A PERFECT FREAKING ANGEL AT THE AIRPORT, SITTING ALONE, CLUTCHING THE GODDAMN PRESENTS AND NEVER LETTING GO, LOOKING SO SAD AND ALONE UNTIL LAY SHOWED UP. Someone wrote something about him waiting for Sehun in a comment on tumblr and it just broke my heart sadlkfjasfd.
Thank you to Thuy for asking me about this constantly. I'M SORRY FOR DOING THIS TO HUNHAN OMG. Also, thank you to strawberrylychi for being an awesome friend and a super beta. And for listening to me whine constantly and not biting my head off when I accidentally leaked the ending. ^^
I'm going to write some preachy stuff now, and this is rather necessary.
I don't find suicide or depression glamorous. I know this may seem like off timing to post, seeing as I'm posting this at the end of "suicide awareness week" or something- I actuallt started this before this week, and I've had the plot brewing for a while. This is a really personal topic for me, and for some reason I wanted to write this. Let me just say: depression is terrible, suicide is never the answer. I wrote this story as a dedication to many people who will go unnamed or have been unnamed: sometimes things are too hard to go through, and that's understandable. But please don't take this as an advocation of suicide. I know this story seems like it's something so easy, but I tried to make it as real as I could without going too in depth. It's something that I know too closely to my heart, and there's a pain that can't be written. What's written here is only the surface.
Please, if any of you know anyone who is going through something like this, or are yourself going through depression, or having suicidal thoughts, call:
1-800-273-8255 (US number). And remember, there are many people who you can talk to, including myself.
(If you ever need someone to talk to: zoyce101@yahoo.com or http://carpepartem.tumblr.com/ask