[ cнapтer ғorтy ➛ ѕтarт ]

▬▬▬▬▬▬♢▬▬▬▬▬▬

It was 4 am.

The parents of the Dreamies had gone for coffee, wanting to let their children grieve alone while they sipped drinks in silence with nothing to say and everything to think.

Chenle was at the park, sitting motionless and staring at the ground but not seeing. A part of him was hoping it was fake, he was just lucid dreaming or the world was playing a joke on him. How could it be true, that within less than a week of Chenle's confession, Jisung was gone? The Chinese boy had only just told Jisung he loved him and asked the younger out. They had only just spent the past few days playing pranks and fucking around and most of all, more than delighted to be with each other.

It was cruel that Jisung had been taken from him just like that. It had to be a joke.

But it wasn't.

Jisung was gone, and Chenle hated himself for it.

Renjun had gone home, curling up into his sheets while he swiped through old photos on his phone from when Jisung would always steal it and spam it with selfies. It felt like just last week when he had first been introduced to the boy, courtesy of Chenle. It felt like just yesterday when he attended one of Jisung's dance performances along with the other Dreamies, shocked at how much skill and raw talent the youngest possessed. It felt like just that morning when he had been in Jaemin's room with Jisung and Jeno, all of them sharing wise advice on the orange-haired boy's crush.

It felt like just a minute ago when Chenle and Jisung were inactive on the group chat, and Renjun jokingly asked if the youngest was dead. He was.

Donghyuck and Mark had gone to an arcade, a place they'd always taken Jisung when they decided he shouldn't be at his house.

Whenever Jisung needed advice on his career and dancing, Mark was instantly there for the younger. He supported and helped to youngest as much as he could, proud of how hardworking and passionate Jisung was. He was the one who informed Jisung of agencies holding auditions for dancers. And he was so excited to see Jisung dance in the future, a worldwide name.

But he wouldn't.

And Donghyuck treated Jisung like a true younger brother. With attitudes and home lives similar, Donghyuck was always there when Jisung was struggling with his family. The youngest was someone Donghyuck had sworn to protect, no matter the situation or consequence.

But it seemed that wouldn't happen now.

Salami girl had also retired to her own home, regretting every little decision she'd ever made in utter despair. She had been so caught up with Renjun, trying so hard to make everyone smile, she failed to simply appreciate and love the youngest boy with all her heart. She was beating herself up, mind only thinking of how she should've talked with Jisung more, should've spent more time with him. Death was inevitable, but loving and being with someone before their time wasn't. Doing so was simply a responsibility.

And now, there was nothing she could do.

Jaemin was out for a walk, hopelessly lost and couldn't care less. Like Salami girl, he couldn't stop feeling remorse at himself for thinking about Jeno all the time. Jisung was a precious soul that acted tough but could be so adorable at times. The pink-haired always had a soft spot for the youngest, wanting him to have the best possible life and future. He never acted like it, but he was incredibly proud and cherished the boy deeply.

Now, Jisung could only be cherished as a memory.

And Jeno was at the Na household, sobbing on the bathroom floor. From when he first met the Dreamies, he knew instantly his personality most matched Jisung — somewhat non-crackhead, resting bitch persona, and a complete mess. And over the past year, he'd developed a strong friendship with a group he'd do anything for and wouldn't trade for anything. Before in Korea, he'd never gotten so close to a group of people, or anyone not related to him for that matter, so naturally, he'd deeply love each of the Dreamies.

But now, Jisung had become the second person Jeno has lost to death.

All the Dreamies were taking Jisung's death with immense difficulty, but especially Chenle and Jeno. The Chinese loved Jisung so much, for so long, and had only recently realized that love was returned. While Jeno had previously suppressed memories painfully resurfacing in his mind, polluting his thoughts with grief and self-loathe.

Jisung was the second person Jeno had lost, and the second person he couldn't save.

Before he could process it, the bathroom mirror shattered. Glass shards and crystals flew to the floor, a few leaving unforgiving cuts on Jeno before landing. A couple drops of blood left on the shards swirled with the tears, a mesmerizing mixture reflecting desolation and misery stained red. He didn't even realize he had stood and thrown a fist at whatever was nearest, but the chaotic turmoil in Jeno's head blinded logic. Trauma mauled him, knives and guns and bombs tearing out his insides as he screamed, tears dripping faster, racing to catch up with the speed of his blood.

The brunette was unaware of the front door downstairs unlocking and locking again, a figure stepping inside the house. The figure whipped his head up to the ceiling when he heard the blood-curdling wail, and thoughts of somber and yearning disappeared as he kicked off his shoes and bolted up the stairs.

He saw light filtering through the slit between the bottom of the door and the floor from the bathroom, so he hurriedly turned the knob and swore when it wouldn't open — the door was locked.

Jaemin pounded on the door, calling out, "Jeno?! You there?!?"

Inside, Jeno stiffened, eyes wide as his mind sharpened back to the present. He looked around at the floor and swore, rapidly and quietly. The tiles were a mess, and he wasn't about to use a towel that belonged to the Nas to clean up the glass, his few drops of blood, and lake of tears.

Still, Jaemin was pounding the door, growing more stressed as the minutes went on. "Jeno, unlock the door!!"

The other male stayed motionless inside, not daring to move or make another sound. Surely Jaemin would leave after realizing Jeno wouldn't do anything. His heart pounding, he waited as the younger shouted and pounded and panicked further.

"Jeno! Fuck! What are you doing?! Are you okay? Answer me!"

No response, the tears on Jeno's face starting to crystallize.

Jaemin got angrier and more scared, racing into his mother's bedroom to find a bobby pin, hands shaking as he knocked over everything, creating a mess. He finally got one and went back, jamming it inside the keyhole to the knob, violently shaking it around with one hand while turning the knob aggressively with the other. Jeno heard the commotion and continued to swear, hiding his head in his knees as his arms hung limply at his sides.

When the door finally opened and Jaemin saw what lay inside, he almost fainted.

Jeno was curled up in the corner between the wall and bathtub shower, head buried in his arms, sleeves rolled up to reveal small cuts and bruised knuckles likely due to the broken mirror. Glass shards lay on the floor, mixing in with what was evident hours of tears.

Something in Jaemin cracked. Knowing Jisung was dead was more than he could handle, but seeing Jeno so drained, so vulnerable, so sad, was what finally broke him.

All his strength he'd been trying to keep up shattered as he rushed over and fell on his knees, ignoring the brutal stinging from the glass as he wrapped Jeno in a tight embrace. Tears pricking in his own eyes, he held the older like that for a while, whispering soothing words, kissing his hair and tear-stained cheek.

They stayed there, two broken, destitute, crying souls wishing to mend, restore, strengthen themselves so they could feel a fraction of normal, fine, okay again.

"You're okay, Jeno, you're okay."

An hour had gone by.

Neither noticed.

Too focused on trying to steady their unstable breathing.

Heartbeats slowly but surely slowing down and syncing up.

Turmoil in their erupting emotions and thundering thoughts gradually calmed down as well.

Stress and unhappiness were no longer weighing them down too heavily.

Two broken, destitute, crying souls mended, restored, strengthened each other enough to feel a fraction of normal, fine, okay again.

The younger's ass was dying because of the hard tile — whY eLsE wOuLD hE bE sORe — but he didn't notice, preoccupied with Jeno. He stood up and smiled when the brunette continued clinging to him, arms wrapped around his waist and head buried into the side of his neck.

"Cute," Jaemin stated, voice raspy from staying silent for so long.

Lifting his head, body still pressed against the younger's, Jeno's gaze on Jaemin turned from shocked to admiration. "Not as much as you."

Jaemin shook his head and rummaged around in the bathroom drawers, getting out materials to remove the glass from the floor and tend to Jeno's small cuts.

Jeno frowned when Jaemin gently took his arms off from around his waist, but helped him sweep the floor nonetheless. Expressionless, the younger rinsed Jeno's arms under a faint light stream from the tap, then wrapped his knuckles with a bandage.

Once he was done, it was half past 5 am and the boys exited the bathroom feeling guilty about how long they'd left the light on for.

Jeno would've successfully swerved to go into his bedroom if Jaemin hadn't grabbed his waist.

The brunette raised his eyebrows questioningly at the other. "What is it?"

"Sleep with me."

▬▬▬▬▬▬♢▬▬▬▬▬▬

[ cнapтer ғorтy ➛ end ]

[a/n]: double update again bc what is a being productive?? lol i wouldnt know