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“You ok?” It was Mark, who had just walked into the kitchen at 1 am to find Winwin rocking back and forth in one of the rickety wooden chairs crammed around the circular table in the middle. The older just answered with an almost violent shake of his head and a broken sob. “What’s wrong?” He pulled up a chair next to his crying hyung and place his arm around his shoulders. But it was shrugged off less than a second later when Winwin turned away, hiding his tear streaked face in his arms. “Winwin… I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know… I can’t fix it! I don’t even know who it is!”
“Who? Your soulmate?” Winwin just nodded again, looking tearily at the younger rapper. “What about them?”
“They’re in trouble. And I don’t know how to help.” A scary calm was taking over the older’s features, as if reality hadn’t quite hit him yet. “They want to hurt themselves and I don’t know what to do.” He turned to expose his forearm, covered in black scribbles and marks, most of which were words that seemed to have been scribbled out. Only a few were still legible, but it was clear from them that whoever had written them wasn’t doing very well, at all. The majority of the hastily scribbled words seem to say things such as “not good enough”, “I’m sorry”, and “Death would be better than this, wouldn’t it?”. Along with the self destructive words were things written in a fat blue marker, in what was undoubtedly Winwin’s handwriting saying things like “are you ok?”, “let me help you.”, “Please don’t hurt yourself.”, “Remember, I’m here for you.”, and “please stay safe.”. It was only then that Mark registered the blue sharpie on the kitchen table.
“Oh god… They’re suicidal…?” He asked, even when he already knew the answer. He didn’t even need to look at Winwin to feel his desperation hanging heavily in the air around them like smoke.
“Yesterday they wrote an entire apology letter on their thigh, apologizing that I might never get to meet them.” he whispered, eyes shining with tears in the dim lighting.
“I’m so sorry.” Mark pulled the older into a hug, not knowing what else to do to comfort his scared roommate.
Yuta opened his eyes reluctantly, blinking at the harsh sunlight that hit them. Everything felt wrong. Wrong and just, dead. He didn’t feel. And he hated it. Hated how much he relied on antidepressants, how he pretty much ran on them just to get up in the morning. Hated how all his laughs were forced. Hated how his entire life was being controlled by some random thing that had gone wrong with his mind.
Yuta spent his entire morning mentally yelling at himself for being “lazy” and not cleaning up the day before, for not getting up early enough, for almost missing the bus to his first class. At least it was music (well technically it was also a dance class but it’s easier to just say music) and he’d get to see Winwin, it always cheered him up a little bit to be around the younger.
They spent most of their time in music class in the groups they had chosen at the beginning of the year. Basically their teacher had just told them to find a couple of people that had more or less the same taste in music and form a “band” with them that they would create music with until they stopped taking the class. Yuta had ended up in the largest group, consisting of himself and nine other people, most of which he hadn’t bothered to learn their names. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, he just physically couldn’t get himself to put in the effort to remember.
The ones he did remember, however, he had become fast friends with. Mark and Johnny were both from America, well Johnny was, Mark was from Canada. The two of them were almost inseparable, you could never find one without the other. The one other person Yuta always remembered was Winwin. Well, technically that wasn’t his real name, but the nickname they had given him was a lot easier to say, and had become more or less his real name. They just clicked. Yuta always understood Winwin and Winwin always understood Yuta. It was just the way things worked.
“Um, hello? You still with us or did you fall asleep?” it was Johnny, waving his hand jokingly in front of his face.
“What? Sorry! I just kinda zoned out… didn’t get much sleep last night. What were you saying?” He wasn’t lying, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, but that was far from the only reason he hadn’t been paying attention to what the others were saying.
“I was asking if you’ve seen Mark and Winwin. They’re still not here.”
“I thought you never left Mark’s side? You guys are like… inseparable?”
“Well, yeah. Usually. But Win wasn’t feeling good last night and slept in and Mark threatened to not talk to me for three days if I waited for him to wake up. So here we are.”
“Oh… well no I haven’t seen them.”
It took about fifteen more minutes for the two missing members of their so called “band” to finally arrive to class, but when they did Yuta choked on his water and hit his head on the wall behind him. Winwin looked absolutely devastated. His eyes were red and a little puffy, making him look like he’d been crying. He probably had been, Yuta reasoned. And his left arm was covered in fading black marker, along with some clearer, bright blue sharpie.
“Oh my- what happened?” Johnny rushed over to the newcomers, almost immediately grabbing Winwin’s arm. “Win… what did you do… are you ok…? I had no idea-”
“It wasn’t him, Johnny…” Mark looked up at the older, shaking his head a little.
“Who was it th- oh… Do you know who it is?” The younger just shook his head again, glancing at Winwin, who looked like he could start crying again any second.
After about ten minutes Yuta was the only one who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor to consult the younger about the marker on his arm. He could recognize that handwriting anywhere, even from a distance. But only because it was his own. It was his fault Winwin had been crying. His fault he looked so devastated. All. His. Fault. He felt suddenly sick, cold and hot all over at the same time.
“Yuta? You ok?” he heard his band members faintly, as if from a great distance as all the color drained from his face, leaving him white as a sheet of paper. His breathing began to get irregular as he attempted to shake the image of Winwin’s arm- identical to his own- from his mind.
“I- I don’t feel so good. I have to go.” He managed to stutter out, stumbling to his feet.
“Yuta- what? You were fine just a couple minutes ago, are you su-”
“I probably just caught a bug or something.” He lied, backing away towards the door. “I’ll be fine in a couple days, a week at most.” Then he turned and rushed out of the room in a dead sprint.
The class seemed dead without Yuta, or at least it did to Winwin. Even though the older rarely ever talked or looked up from what he was doing it didn’t feel right, as if part of them himself was missing. And even though he barely ever talked or interacted with the others, Winwin knew for a fact how much Yuta loved the class. How much the older loved to put together music and learn choreography for it. It wasn’t like him to walk, well more or less sprint, out just because he wasn’t feeling well, once they’d had to physically drag him home and call the ambulance because he’d passed out but didn’t want to leave. And the fact that everything just felt wrong without Yuta, especially after what had happened the night before, didn’t help at all.
Hugging his knees, Yuta slumped over on the bathroom floor, staring in disgust at the violet nightshade petals littering the cold white tiles. Among the petals were little droplets of blood, staining the pure color underneath crimson. His lungs burned and his throat was parched and dry. But that didn’t change the fact that it was all his fault. Winwin didn’t love him, Winwin loved his soulmate. Loved the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. If the younger knew who his soulmate was, he would surely change his mind. Change his mind and turn away in disgust.
Faintly he became aware of a dull throbbing in his thigh, a quick glance told him he’d been unconsciously scratching at the scabs on them, causing some of the new wounds to open again, more blood dripping onto the floor. It was a little morbidly beautiful, when Yuta thought about it, the scarlet and midnight blue perfectly accenting the white tiles underneath. But he hated it. Hated how the colors reminded him so much of the war he waged with his mind every day.
Winwin spent the rest of the class sitting where Yuta would normally sit, scribbling down lyrics and immediately crossing them out again. It was only after Jaehyun came over and asked him what was wrong about halfway through class that he realized he’d been crying the whole time, silent tears streaming down is cheeks and dripping onto his paper that he’d stopped paying attention after rewriting the same lyrics seven times.
“I- I don’t know… everything just feels- feels so wrong and empty without Y-Yuta..!” Winwin whispered, the dam finally breaking as he began to sob, a sharp ach filling his chest.
“Shh… it’s ok. He’ll be ok. Breathe…” It was Johnny this time, picking up his crying band mate and putting him in his lap.
“C-can’t.” the younger choked out, already feeling the telltale tingling of flower petals start up in his throat. “Make it stop. Please just make it stop!” The others glanced around at each other, all their expressions one of varying worry and concern. They all knew about Winwin’s hanahaki, well, all of them except for Yuta, who he’d begged them to keep it secret from. They also knew how guilty the vocalist felt about loving someone that wasn’t his soulmate.
“It’s ok, you’ll be ok, try to breathe for me. Ok, Win?” Mark shuffled over to where he was curled up in Johnny’s lap, clinging to him desperately as if the older was his only lifeline.
It didn’t bother Mark that his soulmate often used hugs and cuddling to comfort others. It was quite the opposite, really. He found it adorable how Johnny would envelope almost anyone he was close to in a hug if they were upset in any way, knowing that it was because he cared and others, including himself, found comfort in the older’s warm hugs and cuddles. Especially when there was a certain possessiveness in the way he hugged Mark, and no one else. Johnny just treated almost everyone he was close to as a younger brother or sister, regardless of how old they were (he did use the right honorifics though).
“Winwin, try to calm down. Yuta’s going to be ok. Breathe, please. Please don’t let the same thing that happened last time happen again.”
“Can’t. Don’t want to start c-” but the vocalist was cut off by an abrupt bout of coughing, a couple peony petals fluttering from his lips, the pastel pink color contrasting with the black of his sweatpants. More tears had started running down his face, mingling with the little specks of blood that now tinted his chapped lips.
Agony shot through his upper body as another coughing fit overcame him, more petals ripping free from his throat. He couldn’t even remember the first time this had happened anymore at this point. All he remembered was the guilt of realizing that the petals were for Yuta, not his soulmate who he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. He brought his hands up to cover his mouth, trying to stop more of the flowers from passing his lips, but they were just pulled away by someone- probably Mark- saying that it would just make breathing even more difficult.
The next few minutes were a blur. Winwin didn’t really, and couldn’t have if he tried, process anything through his tears until he heard someone shouting. But it was faint, as if from far away.
A while later, he wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been, but he came back to his senses to the unmistakable metalic taste of blood and something like latex. Just a split second later he realized someone was running a gloved fingertip behind his bottom teeth. So he did what he would do in any situation remotely like this. He bit down. Hard.
“Shh… don’t do that.” came an unfamiliar, slightly muffled, voice from his right, the taste of latex immediately vanishing. “We need to see how bad it is before we can do anything about it.”
“Wha… what? Why…Who are-” It hurt to talk, his voice was scratchy and raw, the words coming from his mouth scraping harshly against his sore throat. But it didn’t really matter because he was cut off by Johnny, who was still holding him close as if he was made of glass, pressing a finger to his lips, shushing him.
“Shh, don’t try to talk. It’ll just hurt you…”
“What happened…? Why are there paramedics here? Did someone get hurt?” He whispered anyways, despite the older’s request for him not to talk.
“You passed out.”
“What?” Winwin almost yelled in shock, only stopping when agony ripped through his throat again. “For how long…?”
“About fifteen minutes, almost twenty.”
“Wha- I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!” he whispered, curling in on himself again, hiding his face in the crook on Johnny’s neck.
“Hey, don’t be sorry… It’s not your fault.” The older ran his hand soothingly through Winwin’s hair while rubbing comforting circles into his back. “Come on, you have to turn around and let them finish, otherwise they won’t know how bad it is and won’t be able to do anything about it.” Nodding just the tiniest bit, he turned around shyly to face the stranger sitting next to them. They continued to examine his throat and observe his breathing for a couple more minutes, and then discussed whatever information they had just gathered quietly for a few more.
“Well, at this stage it’s usually not recommended to get the surgery done, as there’s still a chance that the feelings for a particular person to go away. But on the other hand, most people don’t pass out at this stage either. But we think that mostly had to do with lack of sleep and emotional overload, as well as overworking yourself. So we recommend you get as much sleep as possible over the next couple days and maybe stay at home instead of going to class for a while, but if you really insisted on it we could get the hanahaki removed by Friday.”
“But then the feelings would go away too… wouldn’t they..?” Winwin whispered hoarsely, a few tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
“Yes, they would. But it’s also a possibility that they go away on-
“No. I want to keep it. I don’t know what I would do without those feelings. I’m going home.” He stood up and stalked over to where his bag was leaned against the hazy beige lockers.
“Winwin, where are you going?” Taeyong caught his wrist as he reached for the strap of his backpack.
“I said I’m going home.” the younger replied flatly, tugging his arm free again and turning to leave, only to be cut off by their unappointed leader for the second time (they had all just kinda silently agreed that Taeyong was their leader).
“No you’re not. Not on your own.” the older’s voice was sharp, almost as if he was an overprotective parent scolding a child for coming home after dark. “Guys! I’m ending practice early!” he called across the studio, so that all the others could hear him as well. “Mark, Johnny, I want you two to make sure Winwin gets home safe and doesn’t do anything stupid. Also try to keep him distracted so his hanahaki doesn’t start up again and make sure he gets a lot of sleep.”
“I am literally right here!” he growled, annoyance filling every single one of his features. “Quit talking about me as if I don’t exist. I’m not a baby, Taeyong! I can take care of myself!” So with that said, Winwin pushed passed him and sprinted out of the room, not caring who saw him crying, just wanting to go home and make sure his soulmate was ok.
Gasping, Yuta doubled over coughing, violet petals falling from his lips into the sink. It was times like these that made him glad he didn’t have a roommate. That there wasn’t anyone to see him vulnerable. He hated being, or even just appearing weak. Hated the very thought of it. So he covered it up, pretending to be just as strong as, if not stronger than, everyone else. He didn’t cry, unless he was alone. Didn’t let the nightshade show unless he was alone. Didn’t show his emotions unless he was alone.
But that made him weak. Only weak people hide their emotions. Only weak people don’t cry. Only weak people didn’t try to find help or at least try to fix their problems on their own. Only weak people took almost every opportunity they had to slice open their wrists and bleed out until they felt themselves go dizzy and stopped. But Yuta was all those things. Weak, useless, unloved. No one loved him. He kept repeating it over and over. Winwin loved the person that was supposed to be his soulmate, not the miserable thing Yuta had become.
It hadn’t been as bad a one or two months ago, when they had just started the new semester and everything was ok. But then the homework had started piling up, he’d had less and less time to see his friends and go out to have some fun, and the world had turned all grey. Now every day was the same. Wake up, drag himself out of bed, go to class, work on the hours and hours of homework he had, before going back to bed and repeating the cycle over again, only interrupted by a quick snack or finally giving in to the urge to hurt himself. But no one noticed, and if they did they obviously didn’t care enough to try and help. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted help anymore, or if he just wanted to give up and fade away.
“You good?” The sudden tingling on his arm surprised him, until he looked down to see the message scrawled on his arm in red ink. Hurriedly he scrambled to find a pen, to tell Winwin he was fine.
“Yeah, I’m good. For now anyways…” he wrote back, ending his response with a little smiley face.
“Why won’t you let me help you..?”
“You don’t even know who I am. Why would you want to help me?” It hurt to write it, but to Yuta it was true, why would anyone, let alone a stranger (well not really stranger), want to help him?
“You’re my soulmate, why wouldn’t I want to help you?” The younger’s writing was messy, and had appeared a lot faster than the notes before.
“Because I’m a disaster. You’d be disgusted by me if you knew who I was.” And what he wrote was only the truth. He could never lie to Winwin. At the thought, tears started rolling down his cheeks again and a dull pressure began to build up at the back of his throat.
“Don’t say that. Please just let me help you. Can we meet somewhere?”
Winwin stared anxiously at his arm, waiting for a reply. He felt terrible for letting his soulmate down like this, and especially for loving someone else. How could he ever tell his soulmate that he was in love with Yuta? How could he tell them that his feelings for the older were so strong that he’d started coughing up flower petals because of them? The answer was he couldn’t, but that in no way meant that he couldn’t at least try to help whoever his soulmate was with their depression.
After what seemed like hours, he finally felt the tell tale tingling of new words on his arm.
“How do you know I live anywhere near you? I could live in Canada for all you knew.”
“You’re writing in Korean, dumbass. So there’s almost a 100% chance you live in Korea.”
“Fair point…” the writing was slow, as if the person writing the words was reluctant to give in, as if they were still trying to resist any help.
“Do you live near Seoul?”
“Actually I do… I go to university here…” That was good. Well, it seemed like it was a good thing. They were nearby, probably close enough to walk to wherever they lived, which meant they were at least a little safer.
“Do you want to meet by the fountain?”
“Which one?”
“In the courtyard near the library.”
Yuta was still scared. How would Winwin react when he found out that he was the depressed idiot he’d been writing to the whole time. But at the same time he wanted the younger to know. Wanted to reassure him that he wasn’t going anywhere if the younger would just love him back. But eventually, after mulling over his options in his head for a couple of minutes he finally answered.
“Ok… Please don’t bring anyone else though…”
It was almost midnight by the time Winwin arrived by the fountain, the untouched water glittering in the moonlight. There was a dark figure sitting at the edge, their back turned to him, but even in the dim light they looked vaguely familiar.
“Um… hello?” Winwin asked, clearing his throat a little before speaking. “You’re my soulmate… unless you’re just here by coincidence…”
“No, you have the right guy…” Why did this person seem so familiar?
“Um… can I sit next to you? Or would you prefer it if I didn’t see your face…?”
“No no, it’s fine, considering you’ve already seen it before.” So he did already know his soulmate. But from where?
Walking over carefully, almost as if he was scared of making any noise, Winwin moved over to the hunched figure on the other side of the water. As he drew nearer, he realized quickly, that the other was shaking, soft sobs and whimpers, that they were obviously trying to muffle behind a black sweater paw, escaping past their lips.
“Why do you want to kill yourself..?” He asked, leaning just slightly on the timid side.
“I don’t know… It’s just been that way for as long as I can remember…” the other (still anonymous) person whispered, bringing up their left hand to adjust the black mask they were wearing, causing the sleeve to slip down just enough to expose the scribbled words from earlier, as well as a couple of diagonal cut marks, some of them frighteningly new looking.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Winwin looked at his hands, firmly clasped in his lap. “Earlier you said I’ve already seen your face… but where do I know you from and why are you still wearing the mask if I already know you..?”
At the question, Yuta froze, fear and hopefulness sparkling in his eyes as he glanced at the younger from under his hood. He wasn’t quite sure if he dared. What would Winwin say? Would he hate him from keeping his depression a secret? Would the other get mad at him for not trying to find help sooner?
At long last, looking everywhere but Winwin he hooked his index finger under the mask and pulled it away from his face.
“Yuta?” The younger’s voice was filled with shock.
“I’m sorry! It’s ok if you hate me! I shouldn’t have ever written anything!” He burst out sobbing, not even bothering to hide his tears.
“No no, Yuta, why would I hate you?!”
“I’m a disaster. My whole life is a mess, I can’t keep my shit together, I can’t even keep my own will to live!”
“Shh, Yuta, no… don’t say that!” He was abruptly pulled into a bone crushing hug by the younger, holding him so tightly he swore his ribs were about to crack.
“But it-it’s true! No one’s ever loved me so why should I love myself?” The smaller’s voice started cracking a little as he buried his tear stained face in the fabric of Winwin’s oversized blue hoodie.
“That is so not true, Yuta.” Winwin suddenly pulled him away, gripping his shoulders firmly and looking directly into Yuta’s eyes, making him squirm a little. “You want to know something? I’m in love with you. Have been for a long ass time now. I have been coughing up flower petals almost every day for longer than I can remember. I have loved you since long before I found out you were my soulmate. So listen up. You’re moving in with me. I don’t care what Mark and Johnny say, I don’t care if I have to sleep in the living room, but you’re coming home with me because I will not let you spend a single nother fucking night on your own, got it?”
“You what… you have? I’m what?”
“Please say that’s ok… I don’t want you to hurt anymore..” Winwin was almost reduced to tears by now, looking desperately into Yuta’s honey colored eyes. It wasn’t until now, he realized, that there were dark bruise like circles under the older’s eyes, looking as if they’d been tattooed there. How tired and dead and emotionless they looked. How empty he seemed.
Yuta was lost for words. Winwin loved him. And it felt good. Felt good to finally be wanted by someone. To not be rejected like he had been every time he asked for help. It was almost unconsciously, that he nodded, still transfixed by the younger’s sudden outburst.
“Winwin! Time for-” But before Mark could finish his sentence he stopped, his eyes falling on Yuta, who was curled up peacefully at his roommates side, the left sleeve of his black hoodie hitched up just enough to expose a few scribbled words in what was clearly Winwin’s handwriting. “Johnny, could you do something for me?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen where his soulmate was attempting to make pancakes. “Well, three things, actually.”
“Hmm? Anything for you, but you’ll have to tell me what to do first.”
“First, could you call Tae and ask him to cancel practice today, he takes you more seriously than me. Second, can you maybe figure out how to install some sort of alarm system throughout the dorm. And third, well actually I’ll do the third, we have to make an extra serving of pancakes.”
“And why exactly do I have to tell Tae to cancel practice? And why the alarm and extra serving of pancakes, are you just extra hungry today or what?” The older asked, already picking up his phone and dialing their leader’s number.
“Hmm, well. We can’t really have Win sneaking out again, and we have to make some breakfast for Yuta too! We can’t just let him starve.” Mark laughed, making the answer to Johnny’s first question obvious, as Winwin had let him tell all the others about how his soulmate was suicidal.
Not even three seconds later a sleepy, and slightly grumpy “Hello?” was heard from the phone in Johnny’s hand.
“Hi, Tae…” the older of the two in the kitchen sounded a little wary, almost as if he was scared to talk to their leader.
“What’s wrong? You sound worried.”
“Do you think it would be possible to cancel practice today? Something came up.”
“I can’t exactly cancel it just because one person can’t make it, you know this.”
“No no, it’s not like that-” Johnny held the phone away from himself, covering the mic. “Mark, what exactly am I supposed to say?”
“Give it to me, I’ll do it.” the younger sighed exasperatedly, reaching over and taking Johnny’s phone. “Hey, Taeyong.”
“Oh, hi, Mark. Johnny just asked me to cancel practice today, what’s up with that? Do you know?”
“Well, yeah. I told him to ask you because you’re more likely to listen to him. But you really should, there’s a slight… problem I guess.”
“Mark, what happened? Please stop being so vague.” Taeyong’s voice was impatient, as if he was struggling not to shout into the phone.
“I think- well not think- I don’t know, but there’s something up with Yuta.”
“Mark, I can’t just cancel it because of one-”
“I know, I know! But it’s different. It’s really bad, like, trying to kill himself bad.”
“What?!? How do you know? Did he tell you?”
“Not exactly…”
“Then how do you- you know what, nevermind. Practice is canceled today, but come to the studio at three anyways, I think we all need to have a little chat.”
So that was exactly what happened. Mark and Johnny had managed to convince Winwin that they weren’t mad at him by two thirty, convinced Yuta that it was ok to crash at their dorm by two forty five, and gotten them all down to the studio just five minutes behind schedule. At this point Yuta wes running his fingers nervously through his hair, looking at everything that wasn’t any of the other members, Winwin had slipped his arm around the older’s waist, holding him close and trying to calm the other down, and Mark and Johnny were on the other side of the studio talking to Taeyong and Jungwoo.
“It’s gonna be ok.” murmured Winwin, wrapping his other arm around Yuta’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. “They’re not going to be mad, you know that, right? They’re just worried about you, just as much as I am.”
“But I hate worrying people… why do you think I didn’t ask anyone for help before?”
“But I’m so glad you did, you could have gone just a step too far last night as far as anyone knows. Please just promise me that you’ll find me if it ever- and I mean ever- gets to that point again. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, or if I’m at class, or if I’m in fucking Sweden. Because I will get back to you as fast as possible to make sure you’re ok.”
“I-I don’t know if I can…” the older sniffled, burying his face in Winwin’s shoulder.
“Please, Yuta? I can’t lose you… please?”
“I-” But Yuta was interrupted by Taeyong shouting across the studio.
“Come on guys! Everyone’s here now and I don’t know how long this is gonna take!” The crying rapper gave a little nod, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes to dry some of the tears there, but only succeeding in smudging the eyeliner he’d forgotten to take off from the day before even more than it already was.
At last, everybody settled down into their usual circle that they always started off in. But today there was much more tension and worry in the atmosphere making it feel like Yuta was suffocating, reminding him far too much of the days when he lost control, drowning in what seemed to be endless self-loathing and anxiety.
“So…” Taeyong started awkwardly. “I think we all know why we’re here… and I think we all know that we have to address it before things get out of hand. So um… Yuta, could you maybe explain exactly what’s going on and how long it’s been this way?” He flinched, and pressed himself closer to Winwin’s side at being singled out, avoiding the curious, and mostly concerned gazes of his bandmates.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t feel comfortable sharing that.” Winwin murmured, quietly enough so that only his soulmate heard. But he just shook his head and peaked at the others from under his bangs.
“I-um… well, if someone else didn’t tell you, which they probably have, I guess I’ll just say it out loud… I… haven’t been doing so well lately.” Yuta started, making sure to choose his words carefully. “There’s been multiple occasions where I’ve… considered killing myself, and almost as many times where I’ve actually tried to or hurt myself just to get rid of those thoughts…” His words left the others in a stunned silence. They had known, but hearing it from Yuta, hearing him actually confirm it made everything seem much too real. But, apparently, the silence was too much and he curled in on himself again, hiding his face in his sweater paws.
“Since when…?” Haechan’s voice was soft and tentative, like he was scared to ask, or afraid of the answer. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!” he added quickly when Yuta seemed to hesitate. “I just think it would help to know and we’d get a sense of exactly how long it’s been this bad so we can try to help more because-”
“No no, it’s ok. It’s been…” he paused to think for a moment. “I don’t actually know… I mean, I’ve been depressed since I was twelve or thirteen, but I think it just started gradually getting worse when I was about seventeen…”
“Did you try do do something out it? Like, see a therapist or get antidepressants or something?” Taeil’s voice rang out through the silence, but not in a bad way, more like he was trying to find a point of control in the current situation.
“No… I more or less diagnosed it myself… no one else knew and I didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone.”
It went on like this for another hour, the others asking Yuta questions that could help them help him, only stopping when Winwin realized his soulmate was crying again and immediately comforting him.
“Come on, let’s go home. You need rest, I need to take care of you. And Taeyong needs to find you a therapist and get you on some antidepressants.”
“It’s not quite that easy, you know.”
“Yeah, but you still need rest and I still need to take care of you, so we’re going home.” This provoked a small (and in Winwin’s opinion, adorable) giggle and a teary (but genuine) smile from Yuta.
Three Months Later:
Winwin woke to a sudden tingling feeling on his left arm, almost as if a spider was crawling across it. Hurriedly, he turned on the little lamp on his night stand, blinking his eyes to get used to the sudden brightness.
“It’s getting bad again. Help, please?” It was Yuta’s unmistakable messy handwriting, written in what appeared to be orange sharpie. Cursing himself for agreeing to let Yuta stay in his old dorm for the rest of the semester, he rolled out of bed, not even bothering to pull on something warm, and slipped on his shoes. They had found, what Winwin thought was an agreement. Yuta got to spend the rest of the semester in his old dorm to clear out and not have to go through the complicated process of moving out in the middle of the year as long as the older always told him when he was getting bad again. But all too soon afterwards Winwin found himself constantly worrying about his soulmate, wondering if he was getting bad again and not telling him.
“On my way. On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad?” he scribbled on his arm right below Yuta’s message with the blue marker he always kept with him.
“11”
Three minutes later he was pretty sure he’d broken at least five traffic laws getting to the older’s dorm.
“Yuta? Where the fuck are you?” He shouted after unlocking the door with shaking hands, panic overtaking all capacity of rational thought. “Yuta? Shit. Where-” Bursting into the bathroom he found his soulmate sitting on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, legs drawn up to his chest, gripping a cold looking silver razor blade in one hand and a little bottle in the other. “Yuta…” He let out a small sigh of relief. Winwin was pretty sure he’d never crossed a room faster in his entire life.
“Win… take them. Please just take them!” Yuta whimpered, his breath shaky and uneven, tears streaming down his face, but not making any movement to hand the two objects to the younger.
“Shh… it’s ok. I’m here. I’ll take care of you. You’re safe now.” Winwin carefully pried the blade from the older’s grid, making sure not to cut either of them, before tugging the little bottle of pills from his other hand.
“Why- why am I like this? I was getting better! Why am I always such a failure?!?”
“Don’t say that, you’re not a failure. You’re one of, no, the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Yuta, holding his as if letting go would lead to disastrous results.
After what seemed like forever Yuta calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts.
“I think I’m ok now.” he whispered, not making any attempt to remove himself from Winwin’s lap.
“And I think I’m taking you home. There’s no way I’m ever letting you be anywhere on your own again.”
“Hmm, Kay.”
“Please, please, please don’t ever leave me.”
“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to…”
“Good.”
After a few moments Yuta wiggled around to face the younger.
“Winwin?”
“Mhmm?”
“Thank you. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for… just being there. You mean so, so much to me. You know that, right?”
“Aww, you don’t have to thank me for that. I love you. You are my world, Yuta. I couldn’t ever live without you.” He glanced down at the older, who already seemed to be dozing off in his arms and smiled, placing a gentle peck on the tip of his nose. “Good night, angel.”