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Yeosang is not asleep. He’s not asleep and is not the first night this week alone he’s found himself staring at the ceiling as he tries and fails to put his brain to sleep. He might as well be legally drunk, with how little sleep he has gotten the last few days. But he knows it’s not like that, because this is not the worst case of insomnia he has suffered. He has worked as an idol for years, he knows damn well he has gotten less sleep before.
He’s okay.
He’s not, actually. He’s pretty much not okay, otherwise he would be able to actually sleep instead of just blinking for six hours until his alarm rings.
But in any other aspect of his life, he’s okay. Which is also not true because it’s not like he’s not sleeping because he’s practicing for when vampires stop hiding and he gets bitten and has to live for the rest of his –and everyone else’s– life.
Okay, maybe he is legally drunk. Or delirious. It’s been a few days, after all.
He sighs and stands up, ignoring how dizzy he feels and walking towards the kitchen. He gets water and sits on the table, staring ahead as if waiting for sleep to come behind him with a bat and hit him until he’s unconscious, as if sleep were an entity instead of a state of the brain. Or something like that. He wasn’t able to listen to everything his father explained about sleep when he went to visit his parents last week. Or was it yesterday? No, he met them after Wooyoung’s birthday. No, wait, that was six months ago. Maybe it’s his birthday and he can’t sleep because he’s excited and he knows that the guys will plan something because they always plan surprises because they’re nice like that and-
“Sangie?” he shakes his head and blinks when a soft voice speaks. He blinks again, trying to get rid of the weird blurriness. When his eyes focus and stop feeling like they’re covered in mucus –which they technically are because they have to be a bit wet and not dry to work correctly–, he realizes it’s Seonghwa. The older is looking at him with worry in his eyes, in his scrunched forehead because of the frowning, in his hands and his legs that are covered by his pajamas. He looks tired, but so is Yeosang, also why is everything trembling?
Is Seonghwa trembling? Is he trembling? Wait, is there an earthquake?
“No, Yeosang, there’s not an earthquake,” another soft voice lulls him. When he turns slightly, he realizes Hongjoong is sitting right next to him. “You’re just tired.”
“Yeah, I am,” he confesses. Seonghwa gives him an awkward grin that clearly implies that Yeosang probably looks as bad as he feels. “What- what are you two doing here?”
Seonghwa sits in front of him and grabs his hand. “Yunho called me because you were sitting here with your eyes open,” he bites his lip, and if Yeosang were a bit more awake he would notice he’s struggling to decide if he should say more. Instead, Hongjoong speaks softly.
“How long has it been since you slept, Sangie?”
Yeosang tries to think about it. He tries and tries and tries until he can feel Seonghwa grabbing his arms and making him stand up. He’s yawning as the older guides him somewhere and then he blinks and there’s sheets and a duvet covering him and a warm hand brushing his hair back. He blinks again and there’s warm voices speaking above him, saying words about worry and care as a pair of hands clean Yeosang’s face that somehow got covered in tears. He tries to think if he made one of them cry, if he’s crying or if there’s a leak on the ceiling. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t been able to sleep.
There’s a warm laugh against his temple and another voice saying something about getting a free day tomorrow.