They were now in Baekhyun's room.

For the first time ever since they had met, they were sitting in Baekhyun's room on his bed together.

It was the third floor, room 337.

There was a window on one wall, the bed on the other, and a desk on one of the remaining two walls. The last wall was bare, with absolutely nothing against it, and absolutely nothing on it.

"Your room needs some major reconstruction."

"Don't even think about i-"

"I'm not going to do anything," Chanyeol said, "I'm just saying it looks empty."

"So what's a hospital room supposed to look like?" Baekhyun replied, "Do you want to put up some posters or something?"

"Okay, let go of the sarcasm, we're going for as much positivity as possible here."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious."

"Is that a radio on the desk?"

"I have a cd in it," Baekhyun said, "But I never listen to it."

"Why?"

Baekhyun fumbled for an answer, knowing that he didn't have one.

"Can I try to turn it on?"

"It's probably broken."

"Is it okay if I try to turn it on?"

Baekhyun couldn't find an answer.

So Chanyeol pressed the play button.

And the music started.

At first, he just sat, thinking that he'd be okay, hoping that the feeling wouldn't come. But then, Baekhyun had to close his eyes, and try his hardest to block out the music. He felt it again, that stab to his stomach as the music played.

He put his knees against his chest, his eyes tightly shut.

He could feel the tears coming, because he could hear the music.

He heard the music.

Chanyeol sat down next to him, flustered and worried.

"What-"

Baekhyun responded with a frail sob, quiet but loud enough for Chanyeol to hear.

Chanyeol turned off the radio, rushed and still flustered.

Baekhyun's voice came out as a squeak, mixed with tears and shut eyes. His hands were on top of his head, his head turned downwards towards the floor.

"Baek, are you okay?"

"It's coming back."

"What-"

"It hurts."

That was enough for Chanyeol to understand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I.. I didn't realize how..."

"You're... you're fine," Baekhyun said, "It's fine. I'm okay."

Clearly knowing that Baekhyun was nothing near okay, Chanyeol stayed beside him, comforting him silently.

The remains of the music blew through the room, gently but strong enough for Baekhyun to feel.

The tears kept coming, and they wouldn't stop.

Because once he started remembering again, he couldn't stop. And that meant a push to his chest, hard enough to push it up his throat. Anorexia wasn't the only reason that he was trapped in the rehabilitation center. It hurt him physically to remember. And as if that wasn't enough, it hurt him in a different way too.

Memories were often described as beautiful, rememberable things. Going to the beach, baking cookies with family... But to some people, memories were sad, painful things, in which bringing them back meant something much more than remembering. Baekhyun felt it, he felt everything all over again.

And the funny thing was, every time he remembered, the feeling went away completely when it went away.

Nothing at all would be left of it.

He would feel just as he had before.

It was funny, yet so pathetically miserable.

So the next morning, Baekhyun approached Chanyeol with a smile.

Chanyeol smiled back. ||

a/n
Double update!! Just because these two chapters were pretty short. The story's coming to an end and I'll probably be spending the next few weeks looking for a new idea!
(And I'm going to be honest but these two chapters were reeeeally cheesy. I can't even read them over again😂)