Archive of Our Own

The world was beautiful to Jeongin.

He loved kicking the leaves in the autumn breeze and drinking coffees in cafes and studying with his friends– he loved simplicity. He tended not to take things too seriously when something came up, committed to his relaxed lifestyle.

It felt contradictory that he’d gone into sculpting as an art student, because making sculptures was anything but simple– but he liked the process, liked how the ideas came to him like how the sunlight reached the earth. He loved sitting with the marble for hours and days and finally watching his hard work pay off when people stared in wonder at his creations.

Jeongin loved having a simple life.

“Don’t you look dreamy?” Hyunjin gently laughed as he lowered himself into the seat across from him, carrying two coffees in hand and handing one to Jeongin.

Hyunjin wasn’t just his brother, he was his rock throughout Jeongin’s life. He had Hyunjin to thank for bringing their friend group into Jeongin’s life, all of them merely being kids that lived in the same neighborhood before Hyunjin befriended the others and automatically, Jeongin was added to the group.

“I’m just thinking.” He mused, easy smile resting on his face and staring at the soft rain outside the cafe. “Life is good, you know?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flitted up to him for a quick second. 

He was quiet, reaching over to take Jeongin’s hand. “It is, yeah.”

Jeongin’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. 

“Did you get an idea for your final practical exam?” He switched the topic, opening his sketchbook to a blank page.

Hyunjin shook his head and turned on his laptop, a slight purse to his mouth. “The final is supposed to be a canvas painting that evokes despair. I don’t know what I’m gonna paint yet. You?”

Jeongin sighed, leaning back in his seat. “The theme is soulmates, ” He mumbled easily, not noticing the way Hyunjin had frozen in his seat.

Soulmates were a regular occurrence in their world– everyone had one. When it was the right time for you and your soulmate, a golden string would appear and connect the two of you. The string wasn’t a literal rope, but more something that floated around and could be seen if you focused hard enough. It was like a passageway for the two of you to share emotions– When one was down, the other would feel it.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do for it– I don’t even have one.” He huffed. “You have Changbin, what am I gonna work with?”

Despite knowing each other since they were kids, Hyunjin’s string to Changbin hadn’t shown until halfway through high school, when Hyunjin went through a harsh break up and Changbin was there for him.

He expected his joke to land and for Hyunjin to laugh, but the other kept his head down deathly still, fist clenched over his keyboard. Jeongin frowned– things have been tense the past month, small moments like these that confuse him because he can never figure out what he said or did.

Eventually, Hyunjin swallows, smile returning to his face– but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That makes it a bit harder, yeah.’’ He says softly. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Jeonginnie.”

Jeongin grins back. “Thanks, hyung. You’ll find something too.”

Hyunjin nods in thanks.

They don’t talk again.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Minho and Jisung are soulmates.

Everyone even outside their friend group knows this– Their string got solidified on campus, in front of everyone.

It wasn’t anything grand. Jisung had been so tired he could cry and things had piled up the entire day, making him exhausted until he was near tears– and Minho had taken his hand and told him he’ll buy him a coffee, and the golden string had ran over their shoulders to their joint hands and shined bright enough that everyone stopped for a second– and that was that.

The students moved on. Felix, who had been close, cheered them on before disappearing to his class, and Minho kissed the cheek of a blushing Jisung and took him out for a coffee– and they got together, the end.

Jeongin watched them as they moved around Minho’s kitchen as if they were one, Jisung taking over any task Minho left unattended and Minho wordlessly helping without his boyfriend having to ask.

Jeongin could only dream of a love like that, not having met his soulmate yet.

“Jinnie said your final project is on soulmates,” Felix’s voice came as he landed next to him. “Are you studying by staring so intensely?” He joked, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Jeongin snorted, taking his eyes off the couple to look at the blonde. “Might just carve the two of them into marble and turn it in.”

“I’m sure you’ll pass, they’ll give you the highest mark!” Jisung shouted from the kitchen, running from Minho with a whisk full of chocolate.

Jeongin watched them fondly. It would always stay special to him how he’s known these people since he could remember, and he’d honestly always get a little emotional thinking of how far they came. 

“It seems like yesterday that Chan hyung fell and scraped his knee and got all of us to help him.” He mumbled to Felix. 

Felix laughed, squeezing his shoulder. “All of the kids on the playground– and he didn’t even cry. It just felt like fate that we were all there that day and that Changbin had band aids.”

Jeongin grinned. “All six of us running to his aid– we didn’t even know each other. I literally just met…”

He trails off in the midst of his sentence, eyebrows pinched as his mouth opens and closes– he’d wanted to say something, but it’s like the words escaped before his brain could catch up.

“I just met someone there, I met–” He tries again, but stops this time when he notices Felix has stilled beside him. He’s looking down and it seems that even the couple has gone quiet, and Jeongin doesn’t fucking understand.  

He goes over his words again– all six of them running to Chan. Fact. They didn’t know each other. Fact. He’d known someone from them already–

“You didn’t meet anyone.” Minho’s voice is quiet, and Jeongin’s head snaps up to make eye contact.

“What?”

“I was friends with Changbin hyung– but other than that no one knew each other up until that moment. ” He speaks. He’s smiling kindly.

His eyes seem a bit empty. Jeongin decides to ignore, because this just happens sometimes. Sometimes he speaks and it goes quiet, and their eyes go empty. It happens.

He lays on the couch and it’s quiet as Jisung moves back to the kitchen. Felix is squeezing his hand. Jeongin leans his head back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t mean to sleep, it’s just for a moment, just a bit of rest before the others show up–

“Do you wanna go on the swings with me?” 

Jeongin looks up from the floor. The sun is shining too bright for him to see the other properly, but it must be another kid. Hyunjin is playing somewhere in the distance. They’d come here together, but Jeongin had busied himself with playing with the rocks.

“What?” He mumbled, child voice high pitched.

“Do you wanna swing with me–” The person asks again, but is cut off by a shout from the slides. Jeongin startles up and looks behind him to see a seemingly older kid had fallen down, and his knee is bleeding–

“Jeongin?”

Hands shake his shoulders and he startles up to see the others have arrived, a now older Chan bent over him with a hand on his forehead. “You fell asleep. Did you sleep well last night?”

Jeongin frowns. He doesn’t usually take daytime naps– they give him weird dreams.

“Yeah.” He belatedly responds, heating up under all of their gazes. “Just… been up thinking of sculpting ideas.”

Chan nods but the concerned gaze doesn’t go unnoticed. Jeongin doesn’t say anything and just moves up, ignoring the calls of his name to grab a glass of water.

He closes his eyes when he’s in the kitchen and clutches the counter– this happens sometimes. He just has these dreams sometimes about another person. He’s had them for the last week.

Oftentimes they’re memories, so it can’t be too concerning– it’s just his mind playing tricks.

It’s nothing. He moves to go back to the living room, but stops in his tracks when he hears the others talk through the walls.

“Was he moving in his sleep?” Chan sounds worried, and he can’t see but he assumes someone nods by the sigh he lets out.

“It’s been a month…” Changbin whispers quietly. “I feel like we have to tell him–”

“No.” Hyunjin cuts his boyfriend off, and even Jeongin freezes– he’s never sounded that stern. “Jeongin’s body couldn’t handle it– don’t you all remember?”

“All I remember is that it took me weeks to stop crying, Hyunjin!” Felix hisses angrily, and Jeongin clutches his glass tighter in his hand– what the fuck were they talking about?

“I had no choice,” Hyunjin whispers, voice thick. “He was already choking in the grocery store and when he finally came home–”

The glass crashes to the floor when Jeongin stumbles backwards and everything whitens out, until he’s suddenly not in the kitchen anymore–

He’s in a bedroom and there’s a man laying on the bed and he can’t breathe. He tries reaching out but it feels like he can’t move, and are the walls closing in on him? The room seems to be getting smaller and he feels like he’s falling backwards, until– 

“Innie-yah!” Changbin shouts, shaking his shoulders.

His eyes snap open to find he’s fallen to the floor in the midst of shattered glass and he’s panting. His head and chest hurts, but– but he can’t remember why.

“Hyungs?” He murmurs, bringing a bloody hand up to his head. “Hyungs, my head hurt.”

“Let’s go back to the couch, Innie. You’re bleeding.” Felix soothes, but that isn’t the issue– he doesn’t know what happened before he fell. Why was he even in the kitchen?

He tries asking the questions with his eyes but none of them get answered, in fact only more start to appear when the others all make eye contact and he’s the only one left with a questioning gaze.

Felix leads him back to the couch as his head throbs. Jeongin eventually stops expecting to get answers.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

They redo their movie night the week after. No one speaks of what happened to him. Jeongin doesn’t bother asking.

There’s something nagging at him when he thinks back to last week, to how he crashed down– there had been glass shards and he’d cut himself, but he can’t remember anything. He doesn’t even fucking remember walking to the kitchen to get the water, just that he was sitting on the couch with Felix one second, and the next his hand was bleeding.

He squirms a little in his spot, trying to shake off the anxious thoughts, because this is really just another one of these ‘normal’ things, just like the silences and empty eyes. Sometimes he just blacks out– He knows it’s not normal or healthy but he doesn’t know why it keeps happening, so it’s better to leave it unattended.

The movie on screen isn’t that interesting. Hyunjin picked it, and as much as he loved his brother, his taste in movies was always too corny for him. It’s another romance and it’s set in a reality where soulmates don’t exist, the two leads talking about how they’d have picked each other in every lifetime. It’s cheesy.

Jeongin feels a slight shiver on his left side– had he left open a window? 

One look confirms that he hadn’t, so he just turns back to mindlessly checking out things around him. Hyunjin’s head is resting in Changbin’s lap in front of the couch, hands mindlessly playing with his hair– their string shines a bit golden in the dark room, running from Changbin’s wrist to Hyunjin’s index finger. 

Jisung is on the other couch, completely tucked into Minho, string stretching around them if Jeongin squinted hard enough. Chan was beside him with Felix leant back between his legs, a soft, golden thread moving along as he ran fingers through his equally golden hair.

All of these joint soulmates around him– Jeongin wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

He watches Chan’s fingers, transfixed in how the string seems to be there yet not exist at the same time– one minute blending into Felix’s hair, the other back on his wrist. He shuffles closer until he can nudge the elder with his elbow.

“Hyungie?”

Chan startles up from how immersed he was in the movie, eyebrows raising in question. “Yeah, Innie?”

Jeongin swallows once, wrapping arms around him when a breeze flows past again. “What’s it like having a soulmate?”

It’s an innocent question, they’ve known each other for almost two decades, so Jeongin doesn’t really understand why Chan frowns for a split second and his eyes fill with an emotion he doesn’t recognize.

“It’s… I don’t really know how to describe it.” He blushes, and Jeongin has to chuckle at the way Felix very obviously perks up but acts as if he isn’t listening.

“I feel at peace, I guess?” He describes, momentarily pausing his fingers and making Felix whine slightly. “Like something in me settled and hasn’t moved since I saw the string.”

Jeongin hums. “That’s nice.”

He thinks he understands that. Personally, Jeongin feels like there’s been a storm inside lately.

“What about the things they say?” He murmurs again after a bit, leaning his head on Chan’s shoulder. “About feeling each other’s emotions?”

Chan laughs lightly. “Are you researching for your project, Innie?”

Jeongin pouts and pokes him. He was originally just curious, but it might as well be research for his sculpture.

“It’s not really that I can feel Lix’s emotions…” Jeongin tries not to laugh when Felix nearly whips his head at being mentioned. “Just more like that I can tell what he’s feeling. We could be miles apart, and I’d immediately notice it when he’s feeling down or suddenly gets very excited.”

“He always gets me something nice when he notices.” Felix remarks, having given up on pretending to not be listening. He shoots a small smile at Jeongin before his gaze lingers on his boyfriend, eyes softening.

(Jeongin wants someone to stare at that way.)

“What about pain?” He suddenly asks, remembering a passage he read in class about it.

The other two stiffen up, and he frowns– it wasn’t that sudden, was it? Had he ruined their moment? They never minded before.

Chan gulps a little, holding eye contact with Felix before the younger turns back to the screen wordlessly. “I… I feel his pain, yeah. I won’t feel the full extent, but if he hits his arm somewhere, I’ll get a zap through mine.”

“It’s a fraction, usually.” Changbin pipes up from the floor. “When Hyune broke his wrist, mine ached– but not as bad as his, you know?”

“And if you’re sick?” Might as well collect data while he’s at it.

Minho wrinkled his nose. “It doesn’t work like that– just that if one of you has a stomach or headache or is dizzy, the other one would be as well.”

Jeongin huffs slightly. “Sounds terrible.”

“It is. ” Jisung whines. “When he’s throwing me around in bed, we both feel it and can’t go afterwards–”

“ Too much info, ‘ Sung!” Hyunjin loudly complains and tosses a pillow right in his face, effectively shutting him up. “Quiet down and watch my movie!”

“But your movie sucks! ” Jisung huffed back.

“So do you– now let my wife watch!” Changbin threatened, reaching over to hit him on the shin and Jeongin watched amusedly how both soulmates flinched from it, Jisung dramatically draping himself into Minho’s arms.

He snorts inwardly. He really did love these dorks.

It’s quiet as they watch the screen again– the leads are in bed and the lightning is dim, one softly playing with the other’s hair. 

“I would’ve chosen you no matter what.” He says. It’s cheesy. Jeongin resists the urge to puke as he burrows further in Chan’s shoulder, eyelids starting to droop– he hadn’t slept well last night, being kept awake again by weird dreams.

“You think we’ll always be together?” The other asks– God, could it get any fucking worse? He lets out a small huff and settles in properly, closing his eyes.

There’s an hour of the movie left, he might as well just take a nap since the snacks ran out as soon as Felix got his hands on the bowl.

Chan is comfortable enough and it’s quiet, so it’s no time before Jeongin has dozed off in a half asleep state. He can still hear the movie but his limbs feel like proper lead– he can’t move even if he wanted to.

Another cold breeze makes his left side develop goosebumps– goddamn it, did he leave something open in the kitchen?! He goes to move, but is stopped by a hand on his waist– it’s not as warm as Chan’s but also not Jisung’s freezing hands so he frowns, deathly still.

The hand moves up a bit, slides under his shirt until it can cup his waist– 

“Stop touching me.” He grumbles out. It must be Changbin or his brother playing a prank. He doesn’t move again until he notices Chan has gone rigid beside him.

“What? Seriously, it’s annoying.” He mumbles, cracking one eye open to see that the elder was looking at him with a worried frown, and it’s alarming enough for him to sit up and look around. The hand had come from his left, but…

There was no one sitting on his left.

“Innie– no one touched you.” Minho sounds genuinely confused. A cold feeling washes over Jeongin’s chest.

It’s silent in the room again, one of these tense and loaded ones– until Jisung breaks it with a laugh.

“It was me, don’t worry– Minho’s just fucking. I moved back before you noticed.”

The rest laughs along with him and Minho pulls him closer. Jeongin is too tired to question the genuinity of it, so he chuckles along until he can settle his head back on his hyung’s shoulder and close his eyes, drifting off.

“I’m just glad your hands were at the perfect temperature.” He jokes again, and he’s out like a light.

“Do you think we’ll always be together?” It’s a loaded question, and the movie night is probably not the moment, but– Jeongin has to ask.

Soft hands run along his waist. Slender fingers, not too cold, not too warm– “I think I would’ve found you even without any soulmates.”

He startles awake when someone jostles him– His lungs feel constricted and his head is pounding, it takes him a bit to notice Felix.

“Movie’s over, babe. You should go to bed.” His smile is gentle.

Jeongin frowns disoriently and checks the clock– it has not been a fucking hour, it couldn’t be over.

Felix gives him no time to respond before he’s dragged off the couch and notices everyone else is already gone, snacks and blankets left in their spots.

His stomach suddenly swirls– why is it so messy? 

“Where’re the others?” He slurs, blinking repeatedly.

“To bed.” His answer is short. 

(Felix never talks short.)

He’s dragged to his room wordlessly, and despite the quick exit Felix finds the quick time to press a kiss against his forehead, and then his door is suddenly shut. 

He stops wondering about the sudden end to the movie night when he hears Hyunjin crying through the wall.

The block of marble for his final project sits front and center in his room– taunting him, daring him to start on something he’s never had any personal experience with.

With his teeth gritted and mind still in a daze with not remembering details, Jeongin grabs his tools and resolutely steps towards the stone.

He puts the points into it, pressing down and starting to hack away without any mind until he’s gotten to the right place and can start actually sculpting– and starts with making the hands.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It’s dark.

It’s not just dark, it’s pitch black dark, it’s a darkness you only hear of in stories dark– it’s vacuum sucking dark, there’s no air and no sight and only a void of black, and despite feeling the ground under his feet Jeongin can’t actually see it.

He can breathe but at the same time there’s no air coming in but he thinks he can feel his living room couch but also he can’t see and– where the fuck is he?!

It feels hazy; The only thing in the room (space?) is a faint glow. It takes a few seconds for Jeongin’s eyes to focus, but when they finally do, he can tell the glow is coming from his wrist– from the string on his hand, cutting through the black mass like a snake, up until to what seems to be a door.

(His bedroom door? could be, but then again where was he? ) 

He keeps staring, hoping for some clearance, but there’s nothing except the darkness and the golden glow of the string. 

He feels frozen. Jeongin can’t move his feet. 

The door creaks open. Jeongin still can’t move; but now there’s an uneasy feeling in his chest– like something is burning, like something is very, very, wrong. Like he’s panicking. Like he’s dying.

He wants to run to the door, wants to close it and wants to know who he is and where he is and what the fuck is happening– but he’s petrified, and now he actually can’t breathe and his lungs , why don’t they fucking work?! his knees are giving out, and then–

The string snaps. Jeongin feels like his chest just exploded and crumbles to his knees–

“ Jeongin! ” 

It’s a voice he knows, a voice he’s heard a thousand times over, lovingly and angrily and happily and moaning and sadly and excited and–

“Jeongin!”

Hands on him when he startles awake but not the hands he wants, fingers running through his hair when he gasps for air but not the same ones he’s held in his a million times–

“Hwang Jeongin, stop fucking moving–”

It’s his brother. It’s just Hyunjin. It’s Hyunjin and he’s thrashing in his bed– why is he thrashing?

He stops abruptly and blinks until the elder is clear in his vision, until Hyunjin’s concerned frown registers instead of the already vague memory of whatever it is that woke him up. What was he thinking about again?

“Sorry… don’t know what happened.” He swallows, accepting Hyunjin’s side hug when he sits down next to him.

“It’s alright, I was just worried about you. You thrashed so hard you kicked the guitar.”

Jeongin frowns and looks over to see he indeed knocked over the guitar in the corner. It lays motionless, but something about it haunts him.

“Since when is that thing even there?” He wonders aloud, stricken. “I don’t even play.”

When he looks over at Hyunjin, his brother quickly looks away from him– but not before Jeongin catches the wistful look of something in his eyes.

“Someone else did.” Hyunjin whispers. “A friend of mine… He didn’t need it anymore.”

That doesn’t really tell him anything, but for some reason he still feels his lungs constrict.

“Do you even play?” He tries to tease, but the atmosphere is still too heavy for it to hit. Hyunjin lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head no.

He leans his head on his shoulder, whatever nightmare he had completely forgotten. Hyunjin throws an arm around him and they don’t talk. They haven’t talked in weeks.

“I keep seeing things.” Jeongin admits, voice small. Hyunjin doesn’t acknowledge it except for a shoulder squeeze. “First it was an extra toothbrush, a mug on the table that I hadn’t used, a person in the backseat– and now it’s visions that feel like memories. I don’t know what’s happening to me, hyung.”

Hyunjin only kisses the top of his head, but Jeongin feels how he starts shaking. He doesn’t give him answers– no one ever does.

“I’ll take the guitar to my room… Please try to sleep, Innie.” He hugs him again, extra tight and long, and presses a long kiss against his forehead. He takes the instrument, and Jeongin ignores the way his chest twists at the empty corner.

His body is still too shaken to go back to bed, so he lies and merely stares at the ceiling. Why can he not remember what woke him up? What were his thoughts before Hyunjin told him to stop moving?

The sound of a soft guitar makes its way through the walls. A soft melody, distinctly familiar– calming enough for him to finally drift as it plays long enough until he’s fully gone, only left with the thought that Hyunjin must’ve lied that he didn’t play it.

He has another dream that night. This one is softer, more kind. More familiar.

Soft melodies fill his room, Jeongin only stares through half lidded eyes. Someone is playing the guitar on the floor– he only registers their folded legs and deft fingers plucking the strings. The song is beautiful, something he’s heard a thousand times over but will never grow tired of.

Once he’s slack on the bed and his eyes are closed, on the edge of unconsciousness– he feels legs tangle with his, arms around his waist and lips on his neck. 

“Please try to sleep, Innie.” 

The voice is as soft as the song, a sweet murmur he could drown in.

He listens, and doesn’t question who’s behind him; because he knows. 

He’s strangely refreshed when he wakes up. He can’t remember what he dreamt about; he never does anymore.

The room feels empty without the guitar. Jeongin tries to ignore it and focuses his attention on his sculpture since it’s a weekend– the hands and arms lay unfinished in the block of marble without a body or a face to give it a shape. The theme is soulmates and he doesn’t know yet what this creation he’ll make will have to do with it, but something in his gut made him start with the body of an unidentified person– he’s sure it’ll make sense and tie back to soulmates eventually.

He cocks his head as he stares at it. The marble is shiny and inviting, he feels entranced when he gets up to crouch down by it and doesn’t really process when he grabs his tools, but doesn’t question it either when he starts sculpting, and the bottom part of it starts resembling someone’s legs.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Photography isn’t exactly one of his favorite classes.

There’s too many unnecessary terms and he never really figured out how to work with the stupid school cameras– he doesn’t remember why he ever picked this class, but he’s stuck with it until the end of semester. 

He normally doesn’t show up, but the end of the semester recap is a good way for him to study to at least pass, and now he’s here– nearly nodding off in his seat while the professor fucking drones on and he can’t stop moving his hands.

He hasn’t slept well in weeks. The visions keep coming and they keep getting worse. Sometimes they feel like memories, but he can’t recall any of them happening to him. He’s been researching it a bit– a lot of sources mention PTSD. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have that. Nothing traumatic happened for him to develop false memories. It’s fake. It’s stupid.

(He doesn’t even know if they’re false– but he’s also terrified of the possibility that they aren’t.)

He startles up when the class ends and everyone starts gathering their things. He rises in a hurry and packs his bag, opting to head out as quick as possible and just relax in his bath or something.

“Jeongin?”

What is it with people shouting his name lately? He tries not to scowl as he turns around, being met with a round, grinning face. It’s vaguely familiar, but he can’t place a name.

“I haven’t seen you in so long– You never show up to this class anymore!” He laughs kindly when he approaches, and a delighted feeling fills Jeongin when he finally recognizes the speaker.

“Jongho! It’s truly been ages, I nearly didn’t recognize you.” 

The older grins in retaliation as they start walking together. He met Jongho in this class and remembers spending the first semester with him until he stopped attending half of it.

“How’s life been for you?”

Jongho shrugs. “Not that different, just studying and hanging out with Hongjoong and Seonghwa hyung as much as possible before they graduate and leave.” he pouts slightly. Jeongin pats his back in comfort.

“Chan hyung graduated and I still see him on the daily, it’ll be alright. Have you found your soulmate yet?” He teases to switch topics, sensing that Jongho is a little sad about them leaving.

He bites his lip with a slight blush. “I think it might be Yeosang– I’m not sure yet, though.”

Jeongin is happy for him. They cross the street together and he waves when he sees Felix on campus, stilling so the blonde can walk over as he turns back to his friend.

“Can’t wait til I find mine,” Jeongin murmurs, but looks surprised when Jongho lets out a snort.

“What, He didn’t show up today?”

He frowns in confusion. “...No?”

Felix comes to stand next to them, eyebrows raising in question to his confusion. Jongho looks between them and laughs again.

“I think you’ll be fine if you don’t hold his hand for one class, Innie. Aren’t you seeing him at home?”

Now he’s really not getting it anymore. Who the fuck is he holding hands with? Why does Felix look panicked?

“Seeing who?”

A weird look crosses Jongho’s face. “Seeing–”

“Channie’s here! We have to go.” Felix undercuts loudly and he grabs his wrist, and Jeongin has no time to react to Jongho’s surprised face before he’s pulled to the driveway even though Chan’s car is nowhere to be found.

“Lix?” He tugs on his wrist, no response. “Hyung, he’s not even here yet–”

“He texted that he’ll be here in five.” Felix’s voice is tight and he’s walking so fast Jeongin can barely catch up to him, and he’s so fucking confused!

“Hyung– Hyung! Felix! ” he shouts, finally tugging hard enough until Felix is forced back, twirling around.

“Innie, can we just go? ” He pleads.

“No we can’t!” He rips his arm away from Felix’s grip. “Why did you just pull me away from my friend like that?!”

“I already told you,” He sighs in frustration as if Jeongin is a fucking kid that doesn’t get anything. “Chan texted that he’s here–”

“No he didn’t, ” He hisses back. “You didn’t even check your fucking phone! Why are you lying to me?!”

“I’m not lying–”

“You are! ” Jeongin yells and he doesn’t care if they’re in the middle of the road, he’s just so fucking tired of them all hiding something and he wants answers, n ow. “Yes, you are, all of you are– you’ve been lying to me for weeks because you’re all hiding something and no one fucking bothers to tell me shit !”

“Jeongin…” Felix gapes and gapes but no sounds come out other than his name and it only serves to frustrate him further.

“What was Jongho gonna say?” He hisses again in a low tone, stalking closer. “Who was I supposed to see at home? Whose hand did I hold? What are you not fucking telling me? ”

Felix swallows, falls a step back when the younger gets too close. “I think we should just go–”

“Why did I crash in the kitchen that day? Whose hands touched me at the movie night? What are you all–”

“Is everything okay?” 

He stops abruptly when Chan rolls the window down, looking at them both worriedly. Felix looks distraught. Jeongin is too pissed to care– he feels the venom in his veins and only regards both of them coldly, stepping around and not saying anything when he steps in the backseat.

Chan grabs Felix’s hand worriedly when he gets in. Jeongin ignores their silent communication and how Felix is near tears on the drive home.

He ignores a lot. He ignores Changbin’s greeting from the couch and avoids Jisung’s hug and shakes his head when Minho asks if he’s joining the movie night. He can’t be arsed to care anymore, not when they all seem to know something he doesn’t.

He doesn’t talk and merely goes to get a drink from the kitchen. Chan is there, and of course he immediately tries to talk it out. Ugh.

“Hey, Innie.” He sounds gentle, but he can’t help but still be mad at all of them. “What happened outside?”

Jeongin purses his mouth. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what the fuck all of you are hiding.”

Chan’s taken aback. He’s never been good at hiding his emotions– Jeongin can read his panic like an open book.

“We’re not hiding anything, Jeongin-ah.”

He laughs harshly, soda slashing in his glass. “Do I still look nine to you? Or do you guys not see me as a friend anymore?”

Chan is speechless. He fishmouths just like Felix did, and just like Felix nothing ever fucking comes out.

“You know we love you.” He finally squeezes.

Jeongin can’t keep the hurt out of his voice anymore. “Guess it’s the second one, then.”

He doesn’t give the older a chance to respond as he makes his way out of the kitchen, avoiding everyone and shutting his door to lean against it.

He wipes the frustrated, hot tears when they roll down– He should be used to the disappointment, should be used to the secrets– It’s not a new thing so why is he so fucking affected?

They don’t trust him and that’s fine, he doesn’t fucking care. He doesn’t need their trust. As soon as he graduates, he’ll move out and he won’t have to see them anymore anyway. It’s fine.

He tries to turn off his brain when he gets in the bathtub, filling it and only focusing on the rush of water and how it covers his body. He always liked taking baths, but it feels strangely cold today. 

When he finally turns off the tap, he registers voices filtering through the bathroom walls.

“Jeongin knows.” It’s Felix. He sounds tearful. Jeongin can’t bring himself to feel bad.

“He doesn’t know, ” Chan sighs. “He knows we’re hiding something–”

“No shit, dimwits.” Minho cuts him off. “None of you have fucking been subtle. Besides, this isn’t something you can keep!”

Jeongin closes his eyes as he listens. He wants to care, he really does– but the words fall empty inside him and all he feels is just glad that at least someone understands his side.

“We can’t tell him!” Hyunjin stresses. “None of you were there– only I was. His body literally couldn’t fucking handle it, what do you think will happen?!”

Jeongin finds a new type of anger at the fact that it’s Hyunjin who wants to hide it the most– his own fucking brother. Of course.

“He’s gonna find out eventually,” Jisung whispers. “You saw how Jongho nearly slipped up… Other people still remember him even if Jeongin doesn’t. It’ll all come back eventually.”

Remember him? Jeongin frowns, who the fuck did he forget? What the fuck is going on? This conversation is scaring him– he sinks down until the water is up to his shoulders, but he feels frozen as he listens.

“We’ll be there when it does…” Changbin tries. “He’ll have questions, but we’ll answer them–”

“He already has questions!” Minho cuts in frustration. “He’s confused and scared because he’s literally fucking hallucinating and we’re not helping him in any way!”

“I agree with Minho hyung,” Felix mumbles. “Hyunjin, I’ve been trying to listen to you since he’s your brother, but– He’s not doing well. I think if we eased him into it, he’d be able to handle it–”

“And what if he can’t?” Hyunjin’s voice is thick and it shuts everyone else up with the weight of it. “What if the same thing happens?”

“We’ll be there.” Changbin murmurs.

“He won’t trust us.” Minho fires back bitterly. “The longer we keep it, the more mad he’ll be.”

Jeongin is so fucking tired. He’s tired of being talked about like this and he’s tired of not knowing and he’s tired of the dreams. He lets his head go down under until their words fade away, until all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, and he closes his eyes.

Soft hands caress his chest. Not too warm, not too cold, even despite the hot bathwater. When Jeongin rises back up, there’s someone behind him, legs trapping him between and arms around his shoulders.

A familiar chest to lean his head back on. He laces their hands together, fitting like puzzle pieces. 

He doesn’t have to ask this time either, but it’s not a memory– it’s his subconsciousness, the part that remembers. 

“How are the others?”

Jeongin takes a deep breath. His honeycomb shampoo swirls in the air, something he hasn’t smelled in a while.

“They won’t talk about it.” He whispers back. “But I think I’ll remember once it’s finished… You’re already coming back in flashes.”

He hums from behind, tightens his grip on Jeongin. It’s so familiar it hurts, filling his mouth with a bittersweet taste of longing. He doesn’t linger on whether this is really him or not– Jeongin doesn’t know what he’d do if he admitted to himself that it wasn’t.

“Don’t be too harsh on them.” He softly remarks, taking a hand through his hair. “They’re only keeping it because they’re worried… they just wanna protect you.”

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just turns and kisses the shoulder behind him. He doesn’t want to see his face– it might be too painful when here, he knows who he is; Here, he remembers what happened.

“How did it feel?” He asks. 

(He doesn’t want to know.)

(He has to.)

“It didn’t hurt. I just miss you a lot.”

Jeongin closes his eyes, leans his head back. Soaks in the soft press of lips against his forehead, but doesn’t open to see.

“When will I see you again?” He pushes the words past his throat– because he has to know, even if he won’t remember any of this when he resurfaces.

He’s quiet for a long time. Eventually, Jeongin feels the words murmured against his skin. “Whenever you decide.” 

They don’t talk again. Jeongin’s lungs fill up just like his did, back then, because his body is still underwater. A small part of him thinks about not coming back up.

“They’re worried about you, Innie.” He softly remarks. “Not just about your visions– about how you act. They’re pounding on the door because you won’t respond from the bathroom.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “They’re yelling, aren’t they? Minho will kick the door down and they’ll drag me back up and I’ll forget you, again. ”

The grip on him tightens. He’s missed the closeness. He thinks it would’ve been easier if his mind didn’t erase all the memories in lieu of protecting his body.

“I love you, Jeongin.” 

The words fill a chasm in his chest that’s been empty for a while now. It fills him and wraps around him and squeezes until it spills over into sadness that he won’t hear it again, not like this. What if he just stayed here, always under the water and in his arms?

“I love you too.” It’s so, so hard to breathe. 

He doesn’t resist it when he pushes him down forcefully, submerging his head into water once again– It’s not time for them to meet yet. No matter how much he thinks about not coming back up, he knows he has to, for now.

It’s okay. They’ll meet again, no matter what it takes.

He doesn’t register anything when he wakes, only the busted door and Jisung’s hands pulling him up from the water, Minho’s fist pounding on his back– The gasp of air after he’s finished throwing up all the water he swallowed.

Felix is crying. He keeps apologizing. Jeongin’s last memory is talking to Chan in the kitchen– he doesn’t know how he ended up in the water. His back is warm despite the water having run cold.

His body is stuck to the tub. He doesn’t know why, but the thought of getting out makes him panic and he starts thrashing when Changbin tries to lift him, so they let him go– wrap him in towels and fuss over him after draining the water. They leave in pairs to get him supplies– clothes, food, first aid kit for his blue lips, until it’s just him and Minho.

“Hyung?” Jeongin whispers. He faintly remembers hearing something, a conversation that they didn’t want him to hear, remembers who was for and who was against. 

Minho turns to him, strokes the hair away from his face kindly. 

“You wouldn’t… you guys wouldn’t keep something bad from me, would you?”

Minho’s face turns sorrowful, and Jeongin doesn’t really need his words answering as he presses a kiss to Jeongin’s forehead.

“We’d only do it to protect you.” He whispers anyway.

Jeongin nods, only believing it partially. 

Once the fussing is finally over and he’s alone in his room, his eyes land on his sculpture. The legs and hands are done.

Something’s nagging in the back of his head, the same thing that kept him tethered to the bathtub. A warm feeling and sweet words and something that’s been missing from his chest since forever– but of course he can’t remember. He never does.

He shakes his head again, he doesn’t want to think about things that don’t make sense anymore.

He looks back at the marble. Purses his mouth. Gets up to grab tools.

It needs a chest and arms. He’s nearly finished with the body, even if he doesn’t know what’ll happen once he’s done.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Things stay okay for a bit. He doesn’t dream weirdly again, only wakes with a soft feeling of vague memories– but nothing that has him thrashing awake. He’s glad for the change.

The others seem happier with it too; Hyunjin gives him more space to be alone and stops hovering at home, Felix doesn’t trail behind him on campus anymore and Jisung starts looking less anxious.

It’s good. It’s good. When Chan cautiously asks him if he’s still seeing things, Jeongin smiles and says no, doesn’t tell his hyung about the person he’s been seeing in the corner of his eye lately.

Look– he’s not some type of mentally ill. Maybe he’s hallucinating but something deep down tells him whoever he’s seeing isn’t a stranger or a figment of his imagination; it’s someone he knows. He just doesn’t know who.

All Jeongin knows is that it’s there when he’s there. When he’s on campus, his person is walking across and will sometimes hurriedly wave at the end. When he’s in class, someone holds his hand– without a body to connect it to when he turns his head. At home, the guitar strings vibrate without any sound.

Part of him knows he should ask for help or tell someone, but he doesn’t want to tell Hyunjin after finding out he’s the one keeping the big secret from him, and no one will tell him anything – so he listens to the other parts of him, the parts curious enough to want to know who it is, and keeps it a secret from everyone

He’s in the kitchen baking with Felix and Jisung. They’ve all gone softer on him after the bathtub and things between them are kinda back to normal, so he accepted their offer to hang out easy enough.

“Are you sure you can cook without burning my kitchen, hyung?” He teases Jisung when the older puts the cakes in the oven. Felix laughs when he turns around with a scowl and swats at Jeongin with an oven mit.

“When I was your age, Innie, I did not talk to my elders like that!” He mocks, but there’s a smile on his face as he ruffles his hair and they all end up in a laughing fit. Jeongin missed this, missed them. 

He missed his friends. He’s glad the weird atmosphere from the past weeks is finally starting to lift.

“You’re like… a year older than him, Jisungie.” Felix snorts, but ends up as another victim of the oven mit. 

“I’m also a day older than you, so shush, you babies!” 

“We’re both past twenty!” Jeongin defends through his cackles, but Jisung just mutters about ‘ kids these days ’ and starts cleaning the kitchen, letting the other two laugh as much as they want.

(He missed them, misses them, and he loves his friends and he wishes everything had been different– wishes he at least got more time with everyone.)

Jeongin starts laughing harder when he hears a resonating beep, seemingly coming from the oven even though their cakes aren’t done yet.

“See, I told you you’d burn it down!” 

Jisung stands up from the floor. He’s still smiling, but there’s a hint of a confused frown. “Yah– what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Jeongin moves towards the oven but keeps his eyes on his hyungs. “The oven is making a noise not even three minutes in!”

He opens it, but the cakes are rising normally. Jeongin frowns and checks the temperature and time– Jisung put them both on the right digits.

He turns back to his friends. Both of them look mildly concerned, glancing at each other.

“The oven isn’t making any noise, Jeonginnie…” Felix murmurs, and it only confuses him further because he can still hear the noise– a single chirp every minute ringing through the kitchen.

He frowns. “What’s that noise then?”

Jisung swallows. He looks apprehensive. “...What noise?”

“Äre you two fucking with me?” Jeongin laughs, shifting uneasily. “Don’t you hear it? It’s like small chirps every minute–”

Jisung pales. Felix drops the spoon he’s holding and it clatters loud enough for Jeongin to flinch back and suddenly he’s not in the kitchen, he’s in the grocery store and his chest is burning, he’s choking and he drops his phone and stumbles back and–

and he’s back. He’s on the floor, Felix is cupping his face and calling his name. 

“Innie! What happened?!” Jisung is by him in a flash, pressing a cool hand against his forehead and the younger has to blink multiple times to come back to himself.

“You didn’t… you couldn’t hear it?” He chokes out in a whisper. 

Felix and Jisung glance at each other, concern evident in their eyes but there’s also something else– something he’s seen from all of them many many times, the look they get when Jeongin has another episode and they know what caused it, but won’t tell him.

“You said it’s a chirp, right?” Jisung murmurs, and Jeongin nods desperately.

Felix helps him back up. They both move in to hold him steady, but Jeongin knows its because they don’t want him to see the wetness in their eyes.

“Don’t worry about it… it just means the carbon monoxide detector needs its batteries changed.” Felix kisses his head as he says it. “Go rest, we’re done cooking anyway.”

He’s pushed out of the kitchen. Their words ring in his head when he goes to lay down.

What noise?

They didn’t hear it. 

The carbon monoxide detector needs its batteries changed.

They knew what it was.

He naps on the couch and dreams again, dreams of walking through a grocery store. Dreams of a golden string on his wrist, dreams of calling Hyunjin until a burning, choking ache in his chest made him drop his phone and rush back home.

Dreams of a man on his bed, motionless– and dreams that the string snaps.

When he wakes, Jisung and Felix are sleeping beside him, both with tear tracks down their faces. He can’t see his person like he usually does but he feels the hands stroking his hair.

Jeongin doesn’t think he has any energy left anymore.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He doesn’t have any more episodes for the next week and a half. It would’ve been nice, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knows it’s because of his immense stress for school.

He has to turn in his final sculpture in two weeks, but still has no proper idea what it even is. It’s stressing him out so bad he doesn’t even have the time for mysterious visions or weird dreams. 

Wow.

Jeongin huffs from his bed, eyes still on his statue of marble. It has a full body now, he worked on the back and perfected the limbs and carved the neck as accurately as he could… but it still doesn’t have a face. He still doesn’t fucking know what he’s doing.

He groans and resists the urge to just smash it to pieces, instead getting up so he could try to free his mind a bit, come back later with hopefully fresh ideas.

His feet lead him to his brother’s room, finding him immersed in a canvas painting with paint splattered overalls and his tongue peeking out in concentration. It’s endearing.

Jeongin leans against the doorframe, watching Hyunjin in silence for a bit. He’s always careful while painting but he’s extra cautious with this one– every brushstroke is done with precision and focus, like he’s immensely scared of making a mistake.

He eyes the painting, not paying it too much attention at first. The backdrop is a beautiful night sky; pinks blending into dark blue and turning to black as it reaches what symbolizes the grass during nightfall. Hyunjin’s currently working on a person in the center– someone with their back to them, a guitar evident in his hands as his head is tilted back to the stars.

Hyunjin’s art always felt hyperrealistic to Jeongin. It’s like he can feel the sadness radiating from his brother. There’s something desolate about the painting; something that tugs at his chest painfully when he looks at it.

He takes a step forward, averting his eyes and swallowing the lump before he speaks. 

“What’re you working on, hyung?”

Hyunjin nearly spills his paintwater when he flits around, startled; Jeongin stifles his chuckle.

“What are you doing here?” The older asks, sounding a bit panicked, but Jeongin blames it on his sudden shift of focus.

He shrugs mindlessly. “The marble was driving me crazy… just wanted to hang out to free my mind, I guess.”

Hyunjin flits his eyes between Jeongin and the painting, before he sighs and puts down his brush and gets up from the chair. “I needed a break anyway.” He smiles, cracking his back before sitting down on the bed.

Jeongin sits down next to him and doesn’t complain when his brother throws his legs over his lap. “What’s the painting supposed to be? Wasn’t your theme despair?”

Hyunjin gnaws at his lip, untying his hair and ruffling it before he finally answers. “What emotion do you feel when you look at it?”

His lips twitch. This is something they’ve done since forever– Hyunjin always said Jeongin is brutally honest, and thus will give him the truthful opinion he wants to hear when it’s about his art.

He gazes again at the painting. At the way the boy’s head is tilted to look at the pinkening sky; how he’s all alone in the center, nothing to accompany him for miles.

“Forlorn.” He finally murmurs. “He’s all alone, but he looks at peace… like he’s saying goodbye.”

When he looks back, Hyunjin is staring as well, eyes shiny. “The theme is despair.” He whispers. “Not a despair painting… but something that calls for despair in you. ”

Jeongin lays a gentle hand on his knee. “Who is that in the painting, Jinnie?”

“An old friend.” He looks far off as he answers, not really here. “Someone I didn’t agree with leaving so soon. Someone I’m desperate to have back even though it’ll never happen.”

A tear slips down his cheek. Jeongin leans forward until he can catch it with his thumb, before pulling his brother into a hug. 

“Is it the same person who gave you the guitar?” Is it the same person who plays that guitar in my dreams?

Hyunjin nods against his shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while– Jeongin eventually moves so the painting is out of his sight. It’s making him think too much.

“Jeonginnie?”

The younger hums in answer. Hyunjin’s gone a bit tense beside him.

“A few weeks ago, with the bathtub… That wasn’t an attempt, right?”

His eyes look so hesitant; his lips are pursed with worry and Jeongin’s instincts immediately kick in to reassure him, to tell that he definitely did not want to die– but honestly…

Jeongin doesn’t know the answer to his question either.

“I don’t know, hyung.” He truthfully admits, hating how his voice starts to shake. “I don’t know a lot of things– I don’t know how I ended up in the water and I don’t know why I nearly didn’t come out of it. I’m so confused all the time.”

Hyunjin takes in a shuddery breath and lowers his head, latching onto his side and squeezing. “I’m sorry, Innie. I’m sorry I’m not a good brother to you– I should’ve done more, should do more.”

He’s getting a bit misty eyed now, looking at the ceiling and blinking. “You’re a good brother, Hyunjin.” He whispers. “I’m just… I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Hyunjin moves away a bit, properly assessing the younger. “Is that something you’d want help with?” He asks cautiously, body anxious. “Like… professional help?”

He gulps again, squeezes the blanket in his fist. “Yeah.” He finally admits, to both himself and Hyunjin. “I’d like that– I think I’m ready to try.”

Hyunjin lets out a breath, and it sounds like the relief of something huge dropping off your chest. “I’m proud of you.”

He smiles wordlessly. Maybe it’ll all be okay. 

The doorbell rings and breaks the little bubble the brothers had found themselves in; Hyunjin laughs and says it’s probably Changbin, disappearing to open the door.

Jeongin slumps in the bed, flexing his fingers and raking them through his hair. Talking to his brother had been nice– he’d missed Hyunjin. It finally cleared some of the dark clouds in his head and calmed down the anxieties filling it by reminding him that he does have people around him that he can trust.

His eyes roam the room, scanning the same things he’s seen tons of times in his brother’s space.

He stops suddenly when they land on Hyunjin’s dresser. He’s never really paid it mind before because it’s just where the older stores his clothes, but… there’s a picture taped to it, one he’s never seen in his room. Maybe he just put it up?

He frowns as he gets up, stalking closer– Hyunjin couldn’t have just put it up. The edges are too frayed and too yellow for that.

He hesitates a split second when he hears voices downstairs; maybe he should just leave it, lay back down and wait for his hyungs and then get back to his marble statue. Maybe he should. He definitely should.

But in all the times Hyunjin’s let him in his room, he’s never seen this picture before, and there’s an itch in the back of his head– the same itch when he tries thinking about the past, the same itch as when Jongho was about to mention a name.

So he doesn’t lay back down. He only stalks closer, until the photograph becomes clearer and he notices three younger people on it, entranced hands coming up to take it off the surface to hold.

The younger versions of Hyunjin and Changbin stare back at him, both with grinning teeth and arms around each other– it’s a picture of middle school, he’s pretty sure, if Changbin’s pre-bulk body type is anything to go off by, back when he was just the scrawny kid Hyunjin was desperately down bad for.

They’re familiar. He remembers them like that, but there’s a third person next to Changbin– younger than both of them– that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

And yet, he can’t look away. Soft brown hair frames his kind eyes nicely, squinted against the sun with a soft, tight lipped smile. He looks a bit shy from his stance, but the mirth dances in his gaze as he holds up bunny ears behind Changbin’s head. 

Jeongin feels the breath stutter in his chest when he realizes that this is probably the friend Hyunjin talked about; the one that left them too soon. 

His hands shake as he turns it around, checking the back.

Summer 2018; Me, Changbin hyung and Seungminnie ♡

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

He nearly jumps when Hyunjin snatches the picture out of his hands, sounding panicked and completely taking Jeongin by surprise.

“I was just–”

“Don’t snoop in my room! Why the fuck would you do that?!” He snaps again, stuffing the picture in one of his drawers and closing it with shaking hands.

“Jinnie, he was just looking…” Changbin defends him, but even he sounds stricken, eyes flitting to Jeongin worriedly.

“Why have I never seen that before?” Jeongin demands, eyebrows knitting at their explosive reactions. He didn’t do anything bad, he just wanted to check something out!

“Because I didn’t want you to!” Hyunjin shouts back, gripping the chair. His arms are shaking and his eyes are wide with panic, and– Jeongin just doesn’t fucking get it.

“Fine.” He huffs bitterly. “Keep whatever secrets you fucking want, Hyunjin. I’ve already accepted the fact that you simply don’t trust me anymore.”

He tries to keep the pain out of his voice, he really does. Still, his brother’s eyes immediately flash with guilt. “I do trust you–”

“No, you don’t.” He sighs, exhausted. “None of you do anymore. I don’t know what I did, but… I’m just not a part of the group anymore. It's fine.”

“Innie–” Changbin tries, but Jeongin is already out the door, blinking to keep the tears contained.

He doesn’t care, it’s fine. He’ll move out into campus dorms instead of living with Hyunjin after he’s finished the year and he’ll simply never have to see any of them again– it’s completely fine.

It’s completely fine, he thinks, slamming his door and once again being faced with the stupid block of marble– still just a faceless body, no progress and now he’s just agitated. 

(Fuck everything, truly. It all sucks. His marble sucks and his brother sucks and his friends suck and– everything just sucks. )

He groans when he collapses into his bed, pressing the heel of his palms against his eyes in a futile attempt to not start crying– but the first tears already slip past when he curls up facing the wall, at least pressing a hand to his mouth to cease the hiccups.

He’s pathetic. He’s confused.

He just wants someone to hold him– someone to finally fucking be on his side, for once.

He closes his eyes through the tears, head throbbing all of sudden. It’s so painful that his throat constricts; and perhaps, what Jeongin feels most of all is exhaustion.

His head is titled skywards, soft droplets hit his skin and the wind blows through his sheer shirt. When Jeongin opens his eyes again, he’s not in his room; he’s outside.

A sigh leaves him as he reviews his surroundings. Grey streets fill his vision, empty safe from a few streetlights and astray cars. It’s the dead of the night, stars twinkling in the vast silence.

He blinks when he the pouring rainfall starts coming down harder– he stumbles back and shivers, trying to shield his eyes but the water won’t stop coming, it’s obscuring his vision and he’s only able to see small parts–

only able to see the shoes that wander into his sight, only seeing the body of the person in front of him through the harsh rain.

“Who are you?!” He shouts desperately. The man stands unfazed, as if the harsh rain doesn’t affect him, back turned to Jeongin.

“You’re the person from my visions,” Jeongin continues. He knows that this is the person that’s been haunting him for months– that he’s the reason Jeongin’s like this at all, the reason that he can’t remember much past the last month, “My hallucination… Please, just tell me who you are– I need to know!”

Jeongin fights his way through the rain to step closer. The man doesn’t seem to be soaked like he is, as if he’s immune to the rain– or rather, as if he’s not actually here.

“There’s something my friends are hiding!” Jeongin cries again. “There’s things that I’m forgetting and things I’m hallucinating– and you know what it is, don’t you? You have something to do with it, or else you wouldn’t haunt me!”

He’s so fucking frustrated that he tries running forward to force the man around to see his face, to finally put and end to this– but it’s like the distance between them doesn’t get shorter, and is Jeongin walking backwards or is the man somehow moving forward? What the fuck is happening?!

“Please, I just wanna understand…” He whimpers, knees buckling under his weight until he’s begging on the floor, at the mercy of his hallucination. “What’s happening to me? Why do I keep seeing you? Who are you?” He sobs.

His chest burns– it’s harder to breathe again. Jeongin just wants to rest.

“You know who I am, Jeongin.”

It’s said so softly he shouldn’t even be able to hear it over the rain– but he does. He hears it, his head shoots up, and his heart starts pounding in his chest.

“I don’t!”

“You do, deep down.” He murmurs again. “I’m not haunting you… deep down you remember. ”

He’s tired, he’s so fucking tired he’s tired and tired and tired and confused and tired–

“Remember what?! ” He screams, pounding fists down onto the road in anger– 

“This.” 

Everything’s in slow motion when he finally turns around. He holds his zip up hoodie open– and instead of lungs, there are two black voids. His hands have splotches of sickly red on them. 

His face is deathly pale– the same face he saw in Hyunjin’s room mere hours ago, same trusty brown eyes.

Seungmin stares back at him, no expression.

“I think it’s time, Innie.”

Jeongin’s lungs refuse to fill with air, leaving him choking on the pavement. 

His lungs constrict when Jeongin awakes with a jolt, desperately sucking in air– What the fuck was that? Who was that?!

With flashes of the dream still running through his mind his body moves on its own and drags him to the sculpture– there’s a face in his mind, but he doesn’t know who it is– Oh god, who the fuck did he see– why did it feel so familiar

He can’t even see anything, only the lightbulb in his room is on and it lights up the marble ominously as if it has to tell him something. Jeongin can’t control himself, gravitating towards it even without wanting to–

His breath comes out in heavy pants as he grabs his tools. He’s shaking, shaking from the phantom rain on his skin, tremors wracking his body as Jeongin hacks at the marble jaggedly– he’s missing some spots and definitely not as precise and smooth as he normally is, but he keeps going; he keeps hacking and keeps sculpting at the facial features even if it isn’t perfect, he keeps going until–

Until the face is staring right at him, gentle eyes and a tight lipped smile, dream and memory combined, resembling an older version of the one in Hyunjin’s picture.

Seungmin stands tall in front of him, carved into the marble after weeks of effort.

Seungmin’s face resembles the one in his dream– Seungmin, Seungmin Seungmin Seungmin–

“Seungmin!”

The name falls from his lips painfully in a broken gasp as he buckles against the wall– years worth of memories assault him all at once and tear his heart apart with them, leaving him shaking, leaving him frozen–

Their first meeting wanting to go on the swings in the park– cuddling during the movie nights, Seungmin’s hands always a perfect temperature for him– playing the guitar for him when he couldn’t sleep, how he’d known Seungmin was his soulmate way before the string showed the first time Seungmin kissed him– all memories, memories of their life together, memories of his soulmate Seungmin– Right up until the moment the string snapped, right up until Jeongin rushed home to find him without a heartbeat.

Everything suddenly makes sense now– every hallucination, every conversation he heard but forgot– It’s all coming back to him at once, all the fragments of the memories, all the dreams he had suddenly are crystal clear– 

“Innie, I wanted to apologize, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad–” Jeongin’s head snaps to the door to find Hyunjin, frozen mid sentence as he gapes at the statue in the middle of his room.

When he sees his brother, anger explodes alongside everything else in his chest– anger at the fact that he remembered, he knew everything , all of them did and they didn’t tell Jeongin anything.

“How could you!” He screams, making Hyunjin flinch. “You knew– All of you did!”

“Innie…” He chokes back the tears, eyes frightened at his outburst. “I was gonna tell you–”

“When?! When the fuck were you gonna tell me that my soulmate died and I had no memory of it?! That he– ” he points an accusing finger at the statue, “–was the one I was having visions of?!”

“Now– I was gonna tell you now!” He defends, but it only makes Jeongin angrier. “That’s why I came here–”

“It’s been a fucking month!” 

“I know, okay?!” Hyunjin is finally matching his volume but it doesn’t deter him– he’s too mad, too all over the place to care about how stricken his brother looks. “I know we should’ve told you earlier, most of the others told me to, but– it was so hard, Jeongin!”

He laughs, sour and bitter. “Harder than me having constant hallucinations? Harder than watching me thrash from nightmares– harder than experiencing me nearly fucking killing myself?!” 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, but Jeongin isn’t fucking having it– He’s livid and his mind is a mess .

“Sorry isn’t gonna fix anything!” He shouts, throwing his arms up and knocking one of his smaller works off the shelf, shattering and making Hyunjin flinch again. “You’re gonna tell me exactly what happened.” He hisses, voice laced with venom.

He doesn’t have it in him anymore to have empathy at the tears leaking from Hyunjin’s eyes– all he feels is betrayal, resentment growing with every second at how he was kept in the dark.

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you,” He cries, hugging himself and buckling against the wall. “Jeongin, you’re the most important thing in my life, you have to understand–”

“No more excuses, no more secrets– just please fucking tell me! ”

He hates how his voice breaks mid sentence, making Hyunjin gulp and squeeze his eyes shut.

“You were on the phone with me at the grocery store.” He finally whispers, shaking. “You’d just moved in with him two weeks ago, and were excitedly telling me about it–” Something tears inside Jeongin’s chest at the memories of their old apartment, assaulting him in fragments of a beautiful life he once had lived. 

“Suddenly, you started gasping… I got worried and asked what happened– but you couldn’t answer anymore, only squeezing out that your lungs were burning as if you couldn’t breathe. You dropped the phone and the line went flat– I rushed to yours as fast as I could.”

He remembers asking Chan how soulmates experienced each other’s pain– how he had looked, worriedly glancing at the others. He feels the same pain in his chest again, but now it hurts worse– because he remembers.

“Say it.” He whispers, swallowing back the tears. “Tell me what happened, Hyunjin.”

His brother puts his head in his hands. When he speaks, Jeongin hears the unbearable pain and sorrow. 

“you asked Seungmin to stay home that day, asked him to cook while you did the groceries, said it was fun to switch it up because usually it was the other way around–” He chokes on his feelings but continues, because he owns Jeongin this much, owns his little brother the truth on what happened. “You had to buy batteries as well, because a couple days before, the carbon monoxide detector had stopped working.”

Jeongin doesn’t want to listen anymore, doesn’t want to admit that his recovered memories are the truth. “No– no. ” He begs. “It’s not true. It didn’t– You’re not–”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Hyunjin murmurs back, taking the chance to approach him and catch him before his knees buckle. “You got there before I did… the first thing I noticed was that your string wasn’t glowing anymore– it had snapped.”

Something in Jeongin breaks permanently, leaving him gasping for air against his brother, clutching to him with all his might but still listening because he has to know– has to finally hear it before he lets go.

“I hadn’t ever seen you that distraught– you were choking with grief, clutching onto his body– but there was nothing we could’ve done, baby. Seungmin passed away.”

Anger and grief and despair runs through his body like a livid fire, making him push Hyunjin away and pace frantically.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!” He yells. “He was the love of my life– I deserved to know! ”

“Because your body couldn’t handle it, Jeongin!” He explodes finally. “I held you while you cried– and you went limp in my fucking grip! You passed out from the pain of him dying– we didn’t know if you were gonna wake up or not! I could’ve lost you as well! ”

He keeps shaking his head, breath hitching between wails as the memories of Seungmin keep coming, making him nearly rip his hair out– every touch, every kiss, every moment all ripped from his grasp–

“You woke up after a week! ” Hyunjin cries. “You were way too calm when you came to– you didn’t remember anything, Jeongin, I was afraid I might lose you for real if I told you what happened!”

“Why didn’t I fucking remember?!” He begs, stilling– pleads for Hyunjin to finally make him understand.

Hyunjin wipes at his wet eyes, despite how the tears don’t stop flowing. “The doctors said it was most likely a coping mechanism… Seungmin’s pain would’ve killed you as well– so your brain made you forget everything about him to protect your body. You didn’t show any signs of knowing him until your visions started.”

Every new fact is like a dagger to his chest, it feels like he’s bleeding all over– He has to steady himself against the wall, he’s coughing and hacking and before he knows it, blood drips from his mouth, staining the carpet red.

“Jeongin–” Hyunjin shoots forward in concern, but Jeongin swats him away again. 

“It was him, wasn’t it?” He rasps, betrayal and hurt flashing in his eyes. “It was Seungmin’s hands that I felt during the movie night. It was Seungmin who played the guitar for me– Jongho was about to mention Seungmin’s name. I’ve been hallucinating about Seungmin, the dreams I kept having, the reason I forgot certain events and was confused all the time was all him– and none of you fucking told me.”

“We were scared.” Hyunjin defends, voice cracking. “We had already lost one of our best friends and had to pretend we didn’t for your sake–”

“I lost my soulmate!” Jeongin snapped. “He kept coming back to me, and none of you ever tried to help me,” he hisses angrily. “You all fucking lied–” 

He gets interrupted by more coughs, more blood spilling from his lips upon all the recovered details of his old life. The blood drips down his shirt alongside Seungmin’s smile, his throat tears itself open when he thinks back on all the midnight talks of forever and eternity.

“Innie, what’s happening?!” Hyunjin sounds distraught, but he recoils when his brother tries to touch him– shaking from the effort of standing up and leaning both hands on the wall, head bowed down.

“I knew him since childhood,” He pants. “I was in love with him– we were gonna get married, he was my soulmate and all of you fucking lied to me, made me believe I was insane–”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do anything, Jeongin– anything to make it up–”

“You can’t fucking fix this!” Jeongin screams, heart squeezing painfully. “How could you keep this from me, you’re my brother– ”

“Seungmin was my friend too!” He sobs. “I lost my best friend– I couldn’t lose my little brother as well!”

“You just did!” He laughs again through the tears, sounding manic as he trembles. “I wish it had been me–”

“Don’t say that, please, ” Hyunjin sobs and sobs but Jeongin doesn’t fucking care, because Seungmin is gone and they had all kept it from him, kept his soulmate from him as if they had any right– His soulmate, Seungmin–

“I deserved to know,” He weeps, and everything just hurts so fucking bad. “In between the hallucinations, the visions, after my suicide attempt– I deserved to know. 

“You did,” Hyunjin squeezes out. “I know you did– but I was paralyzed with fear after you nearly drowned–”

“I wish I did,” He honestly admits, gasping through the words and crying, “I wish I drowned– You shouldn’t have saved me!”

“Jeongin–” Hyunjin rushes forward when he buckles against the wall, catching him.

He feels as if he’s surrounded by the water again– He gasps and gasps but there’s no fucking air, the smell of honeycomb shampoo infiltrates his nostrils, and another memory shocks through him; Seungmin behind him in the bathtub, the last love confessions– how he said Jeongin can see him again whenever he decides– how Seungmin had promised they’d meet again.

Jeongin’s body crumples against the floor; Hyunjin is screaming, but he feels numb to the pain as the memories dominate his mind until Seungmin is all he sees, all he hears, remembering the final words he said to him in his latest dream;

“I think it’s time, Innie.”

Despite how betrayed and hurt he feels, he’s glad for Hyunjin’s arms embracing him tightly, for the desperate kiss pressed against his head when Jeongin collapses to the floor and doesn’t get back up.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Everything is strangely soft when Jeongin opens his eyes.

The sheets against his body are fluffed up– the sunlight filtering through the blinds warms his face, and he feels as if he could sink into it forever; everything is quiet and strangely, he doesn’t have a headache like he’s had for the past few weeks.

His room is clean and quiet like it always is– it seems… emptier than usual. There’s a guitar in the corner and some small statues he sculpted, but other than that there’s nothing. 

He rises slowly, trying to remember what he was so worried about last night but drawing a blank. There’s noises coming from the living room; he follows it tentatively, blinking the sleepiness away and sniffing the air when the smell of breakfast hits him, confusing him even more.

Minho’s in the kitchen. Jeongin frowns slightly– When did he even come over? Jisung is making coffee and laughing while talking, Felix is playing a game with Hyunjin while Chan and Changbin set the table. The scene is familiar as ever and his lips twitch into a soft smile– he loves his friends.

Still, despite the warm atmosphere, something is nagging at the back of his mind, an uncomfortable itch– Jeongin frowns and it feels as if there’s something wrong, something crucial that he’s missing, but–

“What’s got you frowning, baby?”

He only jumps slightly when there’s hands on his waist, turning him around and making him face a softly smiling Seungmin, who leans down to peck his lips before drawing him closer.

His heart settles at the sight of his soulmate. Their string runs from Seungmin’s finger caressing his cheek down to Jeongin’s right hand, shining bright.

“What?” He murmurs belatedly, accepting another soft kiss to his cheek. He can’t help it– his brain feels foggy thanks to his boyfriend.

Seungmin laughs gently. It’s such a nice sound. “Why were you frowning, pretty?” He smooths Jeongin’s eyebrows with a thumb.

“I… I don’t know.” 

Seungmin watches him, eyes full of love– Jeongin’s so glad to have him.

“Don’t worry about it,” He soothes, hugging him quickly and giving another chaste kiss before he turns them back around, leading the younger towards the kitchen. “Let’s just eat breakfast, yeah? Afterwards we’re gonna watch a movie!”

Felix greets them jovially like he always does. Hyunjin coos at their held hands, always the biggest fan of their relationship– Minho teases them and Jisung swats at him before he’s kissed, Changbin gives him a cup of coffee and a kiss on the head as Chan calls everyone to eat, and Seungmin doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time.

It’s all so familiar, so nice, it feels almost nostalgic.

Jeongin shakes the weird thought from his brain– how would it be nostalgic if he’s literally here right now?

He accepts the heavenly plate of breakfast from Minho and sends him a grateful smile, taking Seungmin’s advice to not worry anymore. He squeezes his hand and plays with his fingers while he laughs and talks to the others; why would Jeongin be worried or feel weird, when he has everything he wants right here?

After they settle down for their movie, he cuddles into Seungmin’s side. His hand slides down and under Jeongin’s shirt softly; not too cold, not too warm.

They all watch the movie in silence, everyone being immersed– the usual sound of their clock ticking escapes Jeongin, and he distantly thinks that it’s probably run out of battery.

The table is littered and messy with snacks, but he knows his boyfriend will force all of them to clean it once the movie is done until it’s spotless like he always does.

He closes his eyes and smiles. Everything is perfect; like a dream.

Seungmin kisses the top of his head, squeezes him extra tight. It’s good.

It’s good.