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In the darkness of his room, only a tiny gap between the door and the wall allows a sliver of light through.
After his best friend decided to leave him and go to England (well, it’s not exactly like he had a choice), Hwiyoung is reduced to nights spent like this.
On his bed, he lays stretched out, staring up at the ceiling and at the glow-in-the-dark stars he got for his tenth birthday. There’s an air of pensiveness in the household, and it’s quiet save for the tapping of a keyboard coming from Inseong’s room - no doubt, some kind of university assignment he’d left for the last minute. (His older brother may be smart and hardworking, but he has a terrible habit of procrastinating.)
He rolls onto his side and tucks his limbs into himself, shifting the blankets that are pulled up to his chin. He feels warm and tired. Warm, but still cold. Sleepy, but unable to reach the bliss of sleep.
Lonely.
That’s what he feels.
It’s a numbing feeling that runs down his back in chills and reaches up to his lungs out of the pit of his stomach. It twists itself around his heart, squeezing it in its cruel hand in the most painful way.
He misses the tickles in his ears from soft breaths and the words spoken in playful tones during the quiet moments. Fingers that would trace light patterns over his skin and fingertips that teasingly tap at his ears, nose, lips.
The distance between them is cruel.
If he closes his eyes, Hwiyoung can almost imagine another figure lying down, facing him. Bright eyes and flushed cheeks, with soft, dark hair and a smile that’d set anyone at ease. Skin soft, yet seemingly fragile enough to shatter with one touch. He’d seen the image and experienced the warmth in his chest so many times, since childhood, enough times to commit it to memory. (Disturbing it would be like breaking the tranquility and the peace.)
Not much had changed in the years he’d known his best friend.
Hwiyoung resists the urge to stretch out his hand and brush a stray piece of hair lying on the other male’s cheek. If he does, he knows he’ll touch nothing but empty air.
It’s an odd sensation, experiencing two contrasting feelings.
He feels small and insignificant, like a small piece of dust floating in the air. Yet he also feels like a deadweight, heavy and so full of emotion.
Maybe if his best friend was here, he’d tease him for being such a sap. It’s not a secret that he’s the most prone to being emotional in their friend group.
With his eyes still closed, a defeated sigh escapes from his lips. At this stage, it’s not likely that he’s going to get any more sleep than when he first went to bed half an hour ago.
A faint buzzing sound.
His phone isn’t the only thing to light up.
Hwiyoung immediately shoots up, lurching towards the device. It’s a scramble to get out of the blankets that try to suck him back in, and to get his hands on the small rectangular object.
A swipe. The room doesn’t seem so dark anymore. It’s not quite the same as having him in real life, but he’ll take what he can get.
Chanhee's right there, bright eyes and flushed cheeks clear even through the pixelated phone screen. He’s wearing a white face mask, but it’s pulled down to below his chin so Hwiyoung gets to see the lazy smile that stretches across his lips.
“Your hair’s brown!” is the first comment from Hwiyoung.
His best friend laughs and nods, winking and holding a peace sign up to his face. He holds the post for a moment, like a model posing for a photoshoot. “Does it look good?”
Hwiyoung nods. “It does.”
Chanhee frowns. “I can barely see you, your room’s so dark.”
“I look like a mess anyway,” Hwiyoung scoffs.
“As if."
Hwiyoung sinks deeper into his blanket so that only his eyes peek over the top of his blanket. But really, it’s only to hide his blush and the cheesy grin on his lips. (He has to protect the ‘cold city guy’ image, you know?)
Youngbin pokes his head into the frame. “All he’s been doing is talking about you.”
The youngest is quick to respond with a childish whine. “Have not!”
“I’ll leave you two alone then.” Youngbin winks, and then disappears from Hwiyoung’s phone screen.
“I don’t have much longer ‘cos we’re about to go look at some castle ruins,” Chanhee says in a rush. The image on Hwiyoung’s phone lags, but the deep voice still rings out clearly through the speakers. “But I wish you were here! It would be more fun with you.”
Hwiyoung’s heart swells with so much affection for the younger boy, and he mumbles a soft, “I miss you a lot.”
“I miss you too!”
A voice calls out, “Chanhee, we need to go!” Youngbin pops back into the frame. “Sorry to take him from you, but Mum’s getting impatient.”
Chanhee moves the phone a little further away from himself, dropping a wink and using his other hand to reveal a finger heart. “Love you! I’ll talk to you later. And it’s late already, go to sleep, dummy.”
“I’m older than you.” Hwiyoung snorts.
“Time isn’t real.”
“Give this heart to Inseong!”
Chanhee just looks at Hwiyoung, and they chorus in unison, “We get it, you’re dating.”
“Bye cutie.”
The call drops, and then Hwiyoung’s left with only his reflection.