DRAPETOMANIA.
an overwhelming desire to run away

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

        DESPITE HIS FUMING demeanor just a few seconds ago, Jaemin can't help but sob bitterly.

        Donghyuck's once golden skin faded into a pale hue, and his features grew dull and lifeless. Jaemin held the latter's hand with utmost care, vision going blurry over the tears welling in his eyes.

        He clenched his jaw, out of anger, out of pain, out of the devastating truth that his best friend, who had stayed by his side over the course of twenty years, was slowly drifting away from his hold.

        Mrs. Park looks at the boy with concern as he lets out a silent sniffle, and she reaches out to the boy's brown locks and ran her hand through his hair, to the boy who sought comfort in times of distress.

Jaemin's eyes wander to the wires and machinery strapped onto Donghyuck's still body. His tears flood his vision, sliding down his own pale cheeks in his misery and misfortune.

Jaemin heaved a deep sigh and shut his eyes tight, and his breathing is erratic but slow and heavy.

"If he hurt my best friend, I won't hesitate hurting him as well."

╚═ °• ♔ •° ═╗

        As soon as the ambulance drove away, Mark couldn't help but fall to his knees.

He buries his face in the palms of his hands, muffling his cries and sobs, and yet he feels as though the whole universe can see and hear the sadness that spills under is skin.

        But nobody cares, right? Because people see, but not at all feel.

        Frankly, someone does care. And as Chenle crouches down beside the weeping boy to hug him with the remaining strength he has, Renjun and Jeno approach him with worry.

        "Hyung," and Mark has to physically restrain himself from yelling, no, don't call that, because I don't deserve it.

        Mark's body shakes, trembling in the rhythm of his heartbeat, palpitating in quick measures, and his breath nearly falters at that.

        "I-I'm a monster..."

        Mark bites back a loud sob, and his breath hitches, welling in his self-hatred because he ruined everything— their friendships and their burgeoning romance, which was too good to be true, and frankly, was sort of the painful truth.

        "Hyung, no," and Jeno's voice is soft, so soft, fearing that a decibel higher can shatter Mark's fragile heart, not knowing that it had already been crushed long before.

        Mark's sobs and cries fail to cease, and in the distance he hears faint yet quick footsteps that gradually grow nearer.

        "Renjun hyung, what happened?" Jisung's voice echoes through Mark's eardrums, and he clenches his jaw, shuts his eyes tight, and has the biggest desire to just disappear, dissipate into thin air— and maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

        Mark hears two other voices, distinctly from Miri and Winwin, but somehow the world is blocked off from his senses, and it's just him, and an empty void, which, in his perspective, is one and the same— filled with nothing, and of no use.

        He hears Mrs. Oh's voice, that goes along the lines of, Winwin, you can drive, right? and, Come, let's go home.

And soon enough his arm is tugged and pulled down the path, but he can't really sense anything, at all, because his eyes are sore and puffy and refuse to hold back the tears.

        Mark wipes his puffy eyes as Renjun holds his wrist loosely, just enough to guide the older through the fern-line path and into their little hut down the road.

        Mark barely hears the chime of the house keys unlocking the door, and the sudden smell of waxed floors and new furniture gush through his lungs.

        But everything's still a blur to Mark, barely understanding whatever Renjun and Jeno has said to him. Suddenly he feels a pile of clothes being pushed to his chest, and its's only then he realizes he's still soaking wet and drenched in pool water.

        He steps into the bathroom, as per Renjun's instructions, and settles the pile of clothes he's been handed to on the counter.

        Mark remains completely senseless, stepping into the shower and stripping from his bathing suit.

        The warm water hits his skin, and a shiver runs down his spine, shoulders a little tense as the water runs down chest.

        He's momentarily silent and stony-faced, wanting to feel as emotionless as possible, because he's physically tired of the pain expressed in the tears that trickle down his skin.

        Mark absentmindedly retrieves a towel from the metallic rack and engulfs the warmth it brought, really something he so dearly wanted and needed.

Drying his damp skin, his eyes trail down to the quartz-tiled counter, which is where he had placed his clothes.

He slips into shorts, and jeans he can hardly fit himself into.

And once again, Mark's eyes well with tears.

Because there, his eyes land on Donghyuck's fawn-toned knit sweater.

The mere sight of it was enough to rattle him, shake him to tears.

Mark purses his lips, and his trembling hands bring the sweater to his face, and sobs and sobs slip from his lips, because all that's in his head is Donghyuck. I miss Donghyuck.

"D-Donghyuck-ah..."

His voice is shaky, and the sweater doesn't seem to make him warmer on the inside, despite it bringing him the fuzziest of memories.

Mark hates himself. So, so much. Because he hurt someone he loves. And who would hurt someone he so dearly adores?

Mark's a loser. The worst fucking loser in the world, Mark chuckles to himself bitterly.

His tears stain Donghyuck's knit sweater and clutches on it harder, fearing that if he wouldn't, it would let go, just how Donghyuck got out of his hold.

Mark's cries only get louder and louder as the memories flood in.

        The memories he's shared with Donghyuck, and all the times they've given each other smiles and laughs and kisses filled with love.

        Mark sniffles, trying to muffle his sobs with Donghyuck's sweet scented sweater, only to drift away into thought, thoughts that say, What if I never forced Donghyuck, What if I never dragged Donghyuck with me? Would he still be okay?

Mark snaps back to his senses with three timid knocks on the door, followed by Chenle's voice that's barely audible.

Mark sniffles, fingertips brushing against his puffy eyes, and slowly, his trembling hands pull the sweater over his head.

And Donghyuck's fawn-toner knit sweater is on Mark. And it gives him a warm, comforting hug, as tears slowly run down Mark's crimson cheeks, tears saturated with the pain and sorrow, and his immense love for Lee Donghyuck.

It hugs Mark's body with warmth, treasuring this moment, keeping it close to his heart, because he knows, that one day, he might never feel like this ever again.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

        ❀ | a/n !
— mmhhh idk
— HYUCKHAN !