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They haven't seen Seunghan's face in months. Haven't heard his voice, his laughter, his soft footsteps walking in and out of his room.
Instead, there's a cat in his place, haunting his favorite spots in the dorms with light steps and bright, green eyes.
Eunseok was the first to discover this… quirk of Seunghan's when they were trainees sharing a room together, bickering as they normally would. He still saw Seunghan as a little brother at the time and treated him that way— namely, responding to his irritation by being even more irritating.
His literal little brother would come running to their parents in tears, but Seunghan— well, who the hell would have thought that in moments of deep upset, Seunghan would huff and puff and turn into a cat?
Eunseok stared at the animal on the other bed, the way it hissed and raised a spiky tail at him. "… Seunghan?" he asked while taking off his headphones in confusion. He swore he was just teasing Seunghan a second ago while playing games, and now… now there's a cat on Seunghan's bed?
The cat hissed again, and as soon as Eunseok sat up to reach towards him, it ran away, zooming across the room and avoiding Eunseok's grasp. It took a few minutes, several bumped heads against thin walls, and a deep scratch down his forearm before Eunseok could get a hold of it, holding the cat tightly against his chest.
"Seunghan, Seunghan, calm down." Eunseok narrowly avoided the claw that swiped at his cheek. The training team noonas would not be happy with that. "Seunghan, please. I'm sorry, okay? I'll stop. I swear, I'll stop." And he held the tiny face of this cat and stared straight into its green eyes, almost seeing the hurt in its expression fade as Eunseok stroked its face with his thumb.
In the blink of an eye, Eunseok had a lapful of Seunghan on him, still staring up at him with teary eyes. But Eunseok didn't stop holding his face, didn't lift his gentle gaze. Not until Seunghan relaxed fully and hugged him back, hiding against Eunseok's shoulder.
"You're so mean sometimes," Seunghan whined, warm breath puffing through the thin fabric of Eunseok's sleeping shirt. "Why can't you just listen to me?"
Eunseok couldn't help but laugh, even if that earned him a sharp pinch on the thin skin of his forearm. Then Seunghan's fingers found the red welt on his skin, the only evidence that something bizarre had happened just minutes ago. And then it was Seunghan's turn to apologize profusely, tearing up yet again.
"It's okay. I swear, I'm fine," Eunseok assured him, cupping his cheek again. He soothed Seunghan's worries so easily like that.
But he still had questions. Of course he did. "This… thing. How often does it happen?"
Seunghan bowed his head, nibbling on his bottom lip. "Not often. Just when I can't control how I feel. The bad ones."
Those bad feelings kept coming. It didn't take long for everyone else to find out, one by one, as their debut grew closer and closer. Sometimes he shifted after little arguments, avoidable mistakes during practices, common spats among boys learning to live together. But everyone responded similarly when it happened: with apologies, soft voices, gentle pets on his head until he calmed down and stared at them with a deep flush of embarrassment.
Their managers stepped out when Seunghan suddenly transformed in the middle of practice and hid behind the couch for almost half an hour, not knowing how or wanting to deal with these instances. And Seunghan, with his hypervigilant senses, saw the irritation in their brows and felt fear— fear that this would be seen as a liability, that he was a liability. They were so close to debuting, all of them, but it was going to fall apart because of him, because he couldn't control it at times, because everything was too much and—
"It's okay," Shotaro whispered in Seunghan's ear, hugging him close in the corner of the practice room. He whispered that again and again, until Seunghan felt his whole body purring in Shotaro's arms, until he could breathe again.
And then he was human again. And he was embarrassed and ashamed and afraid— but it was fine. Not once did anyone make him feel like it wasn't. He was going to be fine.
"It's okay to feel bad sometimes, Seunghan." Shotaro was only three years older than him, but his words held so much weight, so much wisdom in them. "We'll be with you even if you do."
He meant that, surely. But he couldn't possibly have meant it like this.
———
Shotaro is up early to stretch, to warm his body up for the day. They're about two weeks away from filming the new music video, which means the choreography has to be perfect by now. Well, perfect by his standards at least. He's grateful that everyone wants to keep up with him, wants to give it their best.
But before he leaves the dorm to go down to the garage, he checks Seunghan's usual spots. Under his bed? Nope. Above the refrigerator? Not there either. The laundry basket? As expected.
Shotaro picks Seunghan up and shakes his head. "Sungchan will kill you for kneading on those pants, you know that? Our naughty kitty," he teases. Seunghan hangs his head and lets his body go limp in Shotaro's hold. "I keep telling you, we could buy you a scratching post if you want."
Seunghan makes a displeased sound, as he always does when they talk about buying him cat things. They're grateful that he was okay with the basics, like a food bowl and a litter box in the corner of the balcony. But any talk of toys or furniture led to scratches in their arms, the only way he could really communicate with them.
Shotaro holds him in one arm while he refills his bowl with wet food and checks if his water fountain has enough for the day. The food situation was pretty tricky too. Seunghan refused to eat kibble for the longest time, turning his nose up at anything that wasn't human food. But one day he licked at a can of wet food Sohee bought from the convenience store downstairs and realized that his cat taste buds had changed, that he had to embrace what he was instead of fighting to act human, still.
It's a lot of that recently. Just all of them accepting the situation instead of pretending that nothing's changed. No amount of petting and hugging could make him turn back. They've tried, all of them.
It's because he's not upset at them. He's upset at… the world? Everyone? Himself?
They don't know. And because they don't know, they can't just fix it. Can't fix him.
(Seunghan has heard them, Shotaro and Sungchan, talking about that one night, speaking in hushed whispers in the living room because they thought Seunghan was deep asleep on Sungchan's bed. He was… something to be fixed. It made sense— but it also made him curl deeper into himself, claws scratching at his own neck.
Sungchan saw his wounds the next morning and cried while bringing him to the vet.)
Shotaro doesn't have time to think about that now. All he can do is take care of Seunghan, take responsibility for him. It's another burden on his shoulders that he didn't really sign up for, but who asked for any of this? They were all just kids who wanted to reach for their dreams, except Shotaro started earlier than anyone else. Suddenly, that meant he was the only one capable of handling all of this, handling everyone.
But he doesn't mind in this case. He doesn't mind if it means Seunghan is taken care of, is recovering somehow. He hopes—with each emptied bowl of food, each night that Seunghan purrs in his sleep—that everything they're doing is healing the hurt in him that Shotaro can't even begin to imagine.
———
Chanyoung grins when Shotaro knocks on his door with a disgruntled Seunghan nestled in his arm. "Not coming with us to the gym?" Shotaro asks, releasing Seunghan in the room. He immediately jumps up on Chanyoung's bed and start kneading the blanket on his lap.
"I think I pulled my shoulder yesterday. I'll rest instead," Chanyoung says, and he picks Seunghan up and holds him over his head. "Hyung, let's just hang out, hm?"
Seunghan jumps out of his hold and drapes himself over Chanyoung's wide shoulders, like how he'd normally hug him from behind before. Chanyoung misses that, misses the weight of his touches, the comfort he always gave him.
Everyone knew Chanyoung was anxious, and they all tried to relieve his worries in their own ways. Seunghan hyung soothed him through touch, through his patience, until Chanyoung stopped feeling like a burden to the rest of them with Seunghan's help. And he was easy to talk to, someone who could sit with Chanyoung's emotions and make him laugh in every conversation.
Chanyoung misses talking to Seunghan, hearing him respond. Even like this, he feels comfortable enough to say whatever he wants to Seunghan.
"Honestly? I didn't really pull anything. I'm just tired." Seunghan bumps his head against his shoulder, urging him to keep speaking. "We ran through the choreography all day yesterday. Have you seen it already?" He pulls out his phone and watches the recording of their last practice. Seunghan settles on his lap and watches with his head resting on his folded paws.
It was Seunghan who taught him how to monitor himself without being overly critical, to remember that his limbs are different from Wonbin's, his training period is much shorter than Sungchan's, and don't even start comparing yourself to Shotaro hyung. It was Seunghan who told him that he rounded out their formation perfectly, that he made their arm movements look even more impressive because of how long his reach was.
Chanyoung stares at the six of them on the screen and wishes he were in Sohee hyung's spot instead, hidden behind someone else. Ironically, when it was all seven of them, it was much harder to hide.
Seunghan hyung always encouraged him to practice harder, to let himself shine. "You earned it," he would say. "You deserve to be seen." And slowly, over the months, Chanyoung fought to believe in that, fought for his confidence. Because of all of them, everyone who encouraged him, and especially Seunghan hyung.
Chanyoung rests his cheek on Seunghan's head, welcoming the gentle headbutt. "You deserve to be seen too, hyung. I miss you."
Seunghan only meows in response. (He's trying to say, 'I'm here! I'm right here! I haven't left at all!' but he knows what Chanyoung means.)
———
Don't get him wrong— Sohee loves it when Seunghan stays with them in their room.
He doesn’t usually like cats, but this is just Seunghan. It's still him! He can't yap Sohee's ear off anymore, but he's still hanging off Sohee's arms and draping himself over his lap constantly. Sohee and Chanyoung tease him like they normally would, except now they can distract him with a laser pointer and watch as he resists the feline urge to chase it.
And yeah, he misses Seunghan's voice, misses the way he'd dote over Sohee—even if he'd rather die than admit that to him—but it's still fun to be around Seunghan. It's just a little different now.
The problem is his fur. Sohee isn't necessarily allergic to cats, but Seunghan likes to sleep on his chest. And then he rolls around in his sleep and ends up smothering Sohee, who wakes up to a mouth and nose full of fur and a purring machine as his neck pillow.
Again, Sohee would never admit that it's adorable, that he misses the way Seunghan would hang off him as he used to. He takes the sleeping Seunghan off him and moves him to the crook of his arm, cradling him close. Seunghan is purring, always. Peaceful. Sohee's happy to see that.
Unfortunately, allergic rhinitis cuts those gentle mornings short, and Seunghan wakes up from his deep slumber when Sohee sneezes in his face. (Sohee is decidedly less cute in those moments.)
Sohee even started wearing a mask inside his own room whenever Seunghan came over. Seunghan would try and swipe it off, and Sohee would dodge his claws and yell at him again for almost scratching his face. It's been a lot of that recently: Seunghan trying to get Sohee's attention, and Sohee scolding him for it.
"Seunghan," Sohee whines when he catches him on his pillow again. He picks Seunghan up and places him at the foot of the bed, and then he quickly brushes off the black fur on his pillowcase. "You know we're doing live practices tomorrow. I can't wake up with a runny nose, c'mon."
He's too busy with getting every piece of fur off his pillow to notice that Seunghan's scratching himself again. Only when Seunghan yowls does he turn his head, and Sohee panics when he sees his pink flesh peeking out through his shiny black fur.
Sohee grabs him before he can run, and Seunghan yowls and squirms even harder, still able to reach his neck to scratch some more. "Seunghan, stop. Stop it," Sohee warns, though Seunghan would never listen to him. Unless…
"Seunghan, don't make me bring out the cone."
He freezes in his arms. (Damn you, Jung Sungchan and that stupid vet. I’m never going back to the cone. Never!)
Sohee laughs and rubs his face on the top of Seunghan's little head, even if it makes him sneeze after five seconds. It's fine. He'll deal with it.
Yeah, Seunghan as a cat is still a little annoying at times, a little too much to handle, but Sohee's starting to like him like this. Likes the way he licks the tip of Sohee's nose to tickle him, likes the way he settles under the sheets so that his fur doesn't get into Sohee's nose, likes the warm weight of Seunghan beside him in his sleep, clinging to him like he always would.
———
Oddly enough, Wonbin feels closer to Seunghan now than he did before. Maybe it's because he accepted the situation sooner than the others.
"What if he's still not human in time for the comeback?" Chanyoung whispered when a week had passed of Seunghan lazing around in his cat form, refusing to eat or be held by anyone. "What if—"
"What if he never turns back?" Wonbin voiced out what they were all afraid of for many reasons. For the comeback, for the future of the group, for their friendship, for his family, for their fans, for Seunghan— Seunghan, whose sadness weighs heavier than all of theirs.
And that was just one week into the situation. It's been months now. It hasn't gotten easier, but Seunghan's still here. And all they can do is look after him as he is.
Wonbin eased himself into the idea of never seeing Seunghan in human form again. He'll miss his sense of humor, miss the energy that he gets from Seunghan when they're onstage— all those things, and more.
But he forgets his own yearning when he asks himself: what does it feel like to be in Seunghan's position? What does it feel to have so many people waiting for you to just get better, feel better, please? They mean well, they all do, but asking and begging Seunghan to just tell them what's wrong—they all know what's wrong—won't help.
If Seunghan stays as a cat forever, then there's nothing they can really do. And Wonbin will keep greeting him with a smile, keep picking him up from the floor, and keep holding him close to his chest.
Wonbin doesn't ask about how he feels or tells him that he misses him as a human. He doesn't talk about their schedules like he's telling Seunghan what he missed out on, as well-meaning as everyone is when they do that.
All he does is lie down with him for hours and hours, sometimes playing on his phone, sometimes petting Seunghan mindlessly. Someone has finally matched Wonbin's laziness— well, they are the black cats of the group, after all.
And it seems like Seunghan enjoys spending time with him too, leaving deep scratches in the door every time Wonbin forgets to let him in. Eunseok opens the door from outside, and Seunghan zooms into the room, jumping on Wonbin's bed.
"Next time, I'm teaching him how to open it on his own." Eunseok laughs and closes the door behind him. Seunghan meows in displeasure at Wonbin before settling beside him, curling into himself.
"Sorry I didn't hear you." Wonbin rubs Seunghan's back and kisses the top of his head. "I was about to fall asleep already."
Seunghan's mraw still sounds unhappy, but all seems forgiven when he adjusts himself so he's lying on his back, belly exposed to Wonbin. Seunghan must feel comfortable, feel perfectly safe around him. It's an honor Wonbin is happy to receive.
Now, to be completely honest… Wonbin has a secret.
There are nights when he falls asleep cuddling with Seunghan, his purrs serving as white noise to help Wonbin settle his frazzled mind.
And sometimes, he'd wake up in the middle of the night and see Seunghan— the human Seunghan, sleeping peacefully at his side, with Wonbin's arm tucked under his head.
Wonbin doesn't know exactly why it happens, hasn't told anyone about it yet. It's happened at least three times over the past few months, and Wonbin hasn't told a soul. Not even Shotaro.
Why? Because Seunghan must feel so safe in his sleep, so happy in his dreams. And why would Wonbin want reality to encroach on that?
If he told anyone about it, they'd know it was possible for Seunghan to return. And then what? They'd figure out how to make it happen, how to fix Seunghan, how to make it all better— for him and for everyone.
Wonbin doesn't want him to feel like he's something to be fixed. He wants Seunghan to rest, wants him to take his time.
And he wants to hold Seunghan's face in his sleep and smile at his long eyelashes, the corners of his lips, the warmth of his exhales against his arm. It's been too long. He really missed Seunghan's face.
He cups Seunghan's cheek in his sleep and lightly traces the slope of his nose, the curve of his cheek, the space between his strong brows. Seunghan's lips curl into a smile at the warmth of his touch, and Wonbin is pleased with himself for holding back, for not waking Seunghan up from his peaceful slumber. Wonbin will do anything he can to protect this moment, to protect him.
And then Seunghan's eyes open.
Wonbin is frozen, unable to move away or take his hand off Seunghan's face. They both blink, staring at each other in the dark, but Seunghan still seems perfectly relaxed, even inching closer to Wonbin with his arm over his waist. Closer, and closer, and closer— until his parted lips press against Wonbin's cheek, and his warm breath ghosts along Wonbin's jaw, and he mumbles something that Wonbin can't hear over the sound of his blood rushing to his ears.
Seunghan falls asleep again. Wonbin doesn't— not easily, not with Seunghan curled up around him like this.
The next morning, Seunghan wakes Wonbin up with a paw on his shoulder and a rough tongue licking his bed head. "Seunghan," Wonbin whines, hugging Seunghan close like a stuffed toy, so tight that it makes Seunghan yowl in discomfort. But he doesn't try to run away, doesn't scratch deep welts into Wonbin's arms. Instead, he cuddles even closer, nuzzling his head against Wonbin's jaw.
Wonbin can't do much to ease the sadness in Seunghan's waking hours. The best he can do is give him peace in his sleep.
———
Sungchan hasn't been roommates with Shotaro in a while. Technically, they're not alone in the dorms but— he sighs. Sungchan tries not to pass by Seunghan's room at the end of the hallway if he can.
He's a fixer; he can't help it. Sungchan believes in hard work, believes that there's nothing he can't learn or improve at or master. So when faced with a problem that he just can't crack, it's Sungchan who breaks instead.
He cried when he saw Seunghan hurting himself, and he still tears up when he sees those scars beneath his fur. When he turns back to a human, when his heart and mind have rested for long enough, will those scars stay? Will Seunghan always have to remember how difficult it all was?
Sungchan will remember. He's written page after page in his journal, wanting to understand what's happening, wanting to make it better. He's read books, watched videos, stayed up and talked to Shotaro for hours. Shotaro's good at reeling his thoughts back when they get too far, something he's had a lot of practice with over the years that they've known each other. The years they've struggled together.
"I want to talk to him, you know? If we could do anything to be able to understand him, I'd—" Sungchan sighs and drops his head on his lap, waiting for Shotaro's warm hand to start stroking the back of his head.
Sungchan wants— Sungchan will find a way. He's a fixer. He can fix things.
The brilliant idea comes from Chanyoung and his chronically online brain. Buttons. Buttons with words on them. So simple and so easy, considering that they don't have to teach Seunghan human vocabulary. Sungchan spends an entire afternoon setting up the mats in the living room like a man on a mission, a man possessed.
Seunghan watches from his spot on the couch, unimpressed, grooming himself. Sungchan isn't giving up.
"This… you can talk to us through this," Sungchan says when the cat finally comes down from his perch and sits beside him. Sungchan presses a few buttons to test it out.
Food. Water. Home. Outside. "If you want to go to the other floor," he explains.
There are more buttons. Hold. Scratch. Pets. Sleepy. Hungry. Happy. Angry. Sad. (Seunghan's eyes linger here.)
Sungchan even bought the buttons where he could record his own voice. Seunghannie. Shotaro hyung. Eunseok hyung. Sungchan hyung. Wonbin hyung. Sohee. Chanyoung. Miss you. Love you. Thank you.
"Go on. Try it out." With expectant eyes and a chewed-up bottom lip, Sungchan steps aside to let Seunghan explore the mats. "How are you feeling?"
Seunghan lingers on each one, reading the symbols on top. And then he lifts his paw and breaks Sungchan's heart.
"Seunghannie. Sad. Sad. Sad. Sad."
Sungchan bursts into tears as the robotic voice echoes in the empty living room, as Seunghan places a tentative paw on his knee and starts to knead. Of course he's sad. Of course. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, and Sungchan certainly didn't need to buy all these damn buttons when the proof was right in front of him, in the form of a black cat staring up at him with bright eyes.
Seunghan steps back and looks at the mat again, moving back and forth between different buttons. He meows to get Sungchan's attention, and Sungchan wipes away his tears and tries to smile at him. "Go on, Seunghan. Talk to me." He reaches forward and pets his head. "Hyung is here. Hyung is listening."
"Seunghannie. Sungchan hyung. Miss you. Miss you. Thank you."
———
Eunseok loves Seunghan. He's sure it goes the other way around too, though Seunghan says it out loud a lot less than Eunseok does.
He regrets taking those moments for granted. He should have recorded Seunghan's voice saying: Eunseok hyung, you know I love you, right? He was cheeky like that, always, but Eunseok knew he meant it fully.
Eunseok meant it too. Eunseok still means it now.
Seunghan's been staring out the window all day while Eunseok's been playing video games, occasionally reaching out to pat Seunghan's head. Neither of them move from their spots, only to eat or go to the bathroom.
It's kind of how they were before, when things had just started between them. Seunghan was content with just being around Eunseok, and Eunseok would happily crawl into Seunghan's bed at night, holding him close to make up for all the time he wasn't fully paying attention to him. And with just that, Seunghan seemed happy.
He was easy to please, in that way. Easy to love. So easy to love.
Seunghan isn't any harder to love in this state, just harder to talk to. Harder to coax out of his shell. Harder to take care of, ironically.
He refuses to eat, even when Eunseok picks him up and takes him to his bowl. Eunseok opens a can of wet food and tries to offer it to him, but Seunghan turns his nose up at it and tries to walk away.
"Seunghan, can you please eat something? Even just a little," Eunseok pleads with him, to no success. Seunghan doesn't walk away, but he remains rigid in Eunseok's arms even when he's being hugged and lifted back to the bedroom.
It's just one of those days. There are days when it's harder than usual for him, Eunseok knows.
He's too familiar with Seunghan's moods; he'd knock on his door and receive no response. Then he'd come in and find Seunghan as a cat under the blankets, and Eunseok would sit with him and stroke his fur until he shifted back into himself again, nuzzling against Eunseok's lap.
"Bad day?" Eunseok would ask. Seunghan would just nod.
Those were short episodes, little blips in an otherwise good life. The past few months… have been something beyond Eunseok's understanding, far beyond his control.
But Seunghan isn't a creature made to be controlled. He's a creature made to be loved, loved deeply by Eunseok.
He stops forcing Seunghan to eat, lets him settle on his chest instead. "Fine. Let's just go to bed, hm?" Eunseok mumbles against the top of Seunghan's head. Seunghan's purring already, but Eunseok knows he's not asleep yet.
The others have mentioned it too, that Seunghan tosses and turns for far longer before he finally settles and rests. He's antsy, needy, chatty, and no one knows what to do. Even Sungchan, with his silly little buttons on the living room floor, is stumped when all Seunghan says is "Sad," over and over again.
Bright green eyes stare at him in the dark. It almost feels like Seunghan is back in his human body again, looking up at him with his chin on Eunseok's chest. He's clingy like that, and Eunseok has always indulged him.
No, he never just indulged him. Eunseok liked that about him. Liked that he's been that way since the beginning, except his affection was tinged with something more when things changed between them.
There's so much that Eunseok misses about Seunghan, so much that he wants to say. So he starts with the most important one.
"Seunghan," he gently lifts the cat up and brings him closer to his face, "I love you."
Those green eyes don't waver.
"You know I love you, right?" He throws those words back at him to tease, but Seunghan doesn't blink. "I still love you, just as much. Even if I haven't seen you in so long. Even if you never say it back."
Seunghan sits up, places a paw on his chin, and makes a disgruntled sound— as if saying, Of course I do!
Eunseok moves his paw down to his chest. "Oh yeah? How?" he challenges him. Seunghan tries to prove his point by bumping his head against Eunseok's cheek. Once, then twice, then again and again until Eunseok's cheeks turn pink with laughter and the friction of Seunghan's fur.
"Alright, alright, I get it now. I love you too." Eunseok holds Seunghan's head and presses a kiss against his nose. (Seunghan licks the red spot on his cheek in apology. He'll understand that.)
Eunseok scratches behind his ear, enjoying Seunghan's soft purrs. "I don't mind waiting, you know. You can stay like this for as long as you need to, and I'll still love you."
(Are you sure? Seunghan asks with a low meow.)
"Yeah," Eunseok assures him, scratching deeper. "You know I don't change much. So this… this won't change."
He sits up and cradles Seunghan like a baby, a position that Seunghan used to hate but has grown comfortable in over the months. "I know you'll hate it, but I really want to buy you a pet carrier." (Seunghan growls in response.) "I know, I know, but I hate leaving you here. I could… I could bring you along on trips, be with you so you won't be alone."
(Eunseok doesn't get it. He doesn't know what it feels like to be trapped in a container for hours in a loud plane. And even if he's allowed outside of the cage, there are so many sounds and sights and smells and—)
"It's a lot to think about, I know. But Seunghan, I…" Eunseok holds his face and makes him look straight up at him. "There's so much good in the future that we haven't seen yet, so much that we don't know. And I want you to be there for it, Seunghan. In whatever form you're in. You deserve it."
Eunseok kisses the top of his head, keeps his lips there to murmur softly, "Good things are coming, Seunghan. Always."
Seunghan doesn't move, doesn't purr. It feels like he's sleeping, like he's relaxed fully in Eunseok's arms. And that's enough for Eunseok tonight. It's enough for him to say what he wants to say and hope that some of it sticks to Seunghan somehow. Words won't change anything, love might not change anything either, but Eunseok will keep loving him regardless.
And in the blink of an eye, Eunseok has a lapful of Seunghan on him, now staring up at him with teary eyes.
It feels a little bit like a dream, something so surreal. Eunseok is scared of moving, speaking, even just breathing— in fear that it would all go away. But Seunghan sniffles, hides his face against Eunseok's neck, and keeps crying, curled in on himself.
"You…" Eunseok can't speak, can't do more than wrap his arms around Seunghan's body and hold him tightly, keeping him together in case he falls apart again.
Seunghan turns back to a human when he can control them again, all the bad feelings that force him to hide in a form that can't speak, can't do what he normally does. Now Eunseok understands why this all had to happen: for Seunghan to rest, to heal, to take a pause in a world that seemed to want to take everything away from him.
Seeing Seunghan as a human now, it must mean that he's feeling better, right? So why is he still crying, sobbing bitterly into the collar of Eunseok's shirt?
Eunseok peels him off his chest, holding Seunghan's face with both hands. His eyes are puffy, cheeks stained with tears. Beautiful, still. Always. Eunseok can't help but kiss him slowly, savoring the saltiness on his soft lips.
It's been too long, too many months without him. Eunseok has needed him too.
"You're here," he whispers against Seunghan's lips. "I missed you."
Seunghan shudders, breath warm and voice shaky as he says, "I missed you too."
"You're okay?" Eunseok asks, not entirely sure. Seunghan nods, but even that little gesture makes him sob again, another line of tears going down his cheek. "Then why this?"
Seunghan swallows, takes his time to answer. Eunseok tries to move away, tries to give him some space, but he can't. He wants to be close, wants to hold Seunghan and keep him together. He doesn't know how long this will last, if Seunghan's tears are a sign of this being a fleeting moment that Eunseok will have to remember as just a promise of what could be.
"It's… it's still there, hyung," Seunghan admits, and Eunseok understands completely. It doesn't go away, not that easily. "It's still heavy. So heavy. I can't—"
Seunghan takes a deep breath and tries to meet Eunseok's eyes, tries to hold his gaze. "But I want to. I want to believe you, hyung. I want to be happy. More than anything."
Something good will happen to you today. A wish, a desperate prayer, and a promise.