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Summary
“Don’t you ever get tired?” He impulsively asks, pulling back from the hug and wiping his eyes roughly. Even he feels tired, impossibly so, of himself, so he can’t imagine how Sunghoon must feel having to pick up the broken, incomprehensible pieces of him.
“Of?” Sunghoon hums, like he had no clue in the world, as he takes him by the hand and guides him to lay down on his bed, as gentle as the very first time he came to comfort him.
Sunoo makes a vague gesture, even as his hand shakes. “This.” Me, he thinks, but doesn’t say.
Sunoo has anxiety. Sunghoon takes care of him, even as he’s told he shouldn’t.