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— Do you think I'll be happy ever again? — Jeong-in was sitting on the top of an abandoned building, legs hanging down and feeling the air on themselves. His hair grew long enough to be tucked behind his ear and even though he was planning to cut it he didn't had the heart to do so. It made him look much more feminine.
Chang-bin was sitting behind Ayen, back pressed to the latter's as he was counting the cracks on the floor. He was afraid of the high, but he'd never leave Ayen alone, especially not in the middle of the night.
— I'm sure you will. You just need time to heal. — Bin never lied to Ayen. He didn't know what demons she had in her head, but he promised himself to help her get rid of each one of them. It was the least he could do.
It's been almost a year since they finished their project. Almost two years since Ayen was met with the harsh reality and accepted the way she is the same day. Chang-bin never left her side, never abandoned her even when she looked "fine".
They say the happiest people are the ones who need help the most.
Jeong-in huffed, hands forming small knuckles – he grabbed the harsh concrete so hard it chiselled a small layer of his skin off. For the first time in a while he was wearing shorts and even those were long enough to partly hide his knees. A black shirt with his favourite band on it and a dark grey zip-up didn't match with what he usually wears but that was the point.
— I'm tired, hyung.
— Oppa. — Jeong-in clenched his teeth, jaw flexing and his breath hitching. He was still in denial about his identity, he just needs more time. He closed his eyes for a second, opening them only after feeling Chang-bin shift in his seat. He was now halfway turned to Ayen, hand on his shoulder.
— I'll always be here for you, you know that. — Jeong-in didn't breath for a good ten seconds, not only forgetting how to do so, but dangerously zoning out for someone who was sitting approximately ten meters above the ground.
He's tired. Nothing seemed to bring him joy anymore; nor the fans, nor Chang-bin.
It was selfish. I'm selfish.
— Ayen-ah. — he didn't answer, clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into the softness of his palms. It's been four years since he was supposed to die. Why did he win that competition? To meet Chang-bin? To attach himself to someone so it'd be harder to die?
I don't wanna die.
— I don't wanna live like this. — his eyes were dry, only the cold breeze was making his eyes glossy from time to time. Chang-bin's grasp harshened, to which Ayen sucked the air through his teeth, making the former let go of him.
And they sat there. In the deadly silence. Inhaling the cold, December air. The snow below them long forgotten under the daytime sunshine. But now, when the moon was shining brightly above them, illuminating them alike the main characters on the scene, the thoughts and the unspoken feelings were the noisy kids.
— You're so young, it's never too late to start over.
— I don't wanna start over. — it seemed like nothing could cheer Ayen up. She didn't even wanted to feel Chang-bin's touch, and that never happened before. Maybe she needs some alone time, but Bin was too scared to leave her alone. Here, on the edge of a building.
— Chang-bin-ah.
Bin hummed, focusing on her words.
— Thank you for- for taking care of me.
What?
— I love you.
A shy laugh; croaky and full off sorrow.
A heavy sigh following afterwards; overwhelmed with the unspoken truth.
And then she fell.
I'll never forget the sound her body made when it hit the ground.