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Summary
“Minho.” Chan breathes out, heart crashing at his feet.
Minho stands there, soaked from head to toe as though he had jumped in the Han river. The bags under his eyes are purple. His lower lip is cut; wet blood paints his chin. His eyes, Chan will forever be haunted by them, are hollow. They look dead; devoured by worms that had settled in them a long time ago.
Chan stares without really comprehending the sight in front of him. It looks so absurd. So out of order that his brain lags to give him the proper signals to make him move. It feels like a scene right out of a nightmare, or a very inappropriate prank.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”