⠀

of course certain people are going to glance strangely, raise questions on why on this day in particular is where you choose to freeze. endeavors at reaching out to you are quickly gone in the span of three very simple words, it’s donghyuck’s birthday. a marvelous excuse that bodes well enough, why should anyone be concerned about whatever you have going on? you tut in the face of pushers.

you contorted yourself into one of the greatest hosts imaginable, grinning even despite yourself, wanting to possibly smash your face into a cake topper and tragically turn the course of many lives.

someone called out your name just prior to the bereaved happy birthday song, and you had to squint at the sea which wouldn’t part. jeno, he nudged his way in your direction and seemed evident in his effort to not waste time.

“i feel like i’ve lost you today” he meant well, you assumed, but your stomach churned nonetheless. “are you alright?”

your teeth pressed together in a slight irritation, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, not by that point anyway, but you still couldn’t help it. “just great”.

he squinted his eyes and you wished for the end of the conversation.

the cursed happy birthday song saved your day (or ruined it, the tilt can happen both ways, and you were unaware of the way it would truly go), and you only anxiously patted his shoulder as you began clapping in unison alongside those singing for the birthday boy.

donghyuck is spotlighted—he adores the attention in all of its forms, but celebrations are particular. you don’t try to watch too closely, and even then you can glimpse how praise is a commending factor. he’s grinning and putting up his shy boy act now that there’s a crowd, all singing for him, regarding him with such novice enthusiasm that he has no choice but to keel under their attention.

his eyes flicker and land on you for a moment, just a moment, then he returns to staring at the lit candles he’s to make a wish upon. you wonder for a second if he’s aware of your regrets, that you don’t exactly plan to continue regularly talking to him after this.

you stall on those thoughts.

“make a wish!” someone eagerly yells as the singing crescendos to a close, you only observe idly, possibly aware of a couple things donghyuck would wish for.

he gives one last momentary glance at you before closing his eyes, then rather quickly proceeding to blow out his candles with little general disruption. the room erupts into applause and johnny is beginning to try wrestling a party hat onto him, but all you can do is remain still.

you wonder why you can’t stop staring at him.

donghyuck has such beautiful eyes.

you wish you could gouge them out and keep them all to yourself, maybe you would put them in a jar to carry around in your bag, or find a way to fashion them into a keychain. you feel slightly unlike yourself, but you are not going to begin questioning it when donghyuck is so intent on taking it as key.

‘don’t you love me?’ he states, batting those pretty eyelashes that you so terribly wanted to place as jewelry around your neck. something is surely wrong with you, especially when you come to at the early hours of the morning with a handy screwdriver at his neck, just wondering what would happen if you pressed even slightly harder.

it wouldn’t be all futile, it would keep those meddling thieves away from him, then you could do whatever you wanted without the threat of possible escape. he thinks he’s so smart, trying to avoid you, trying to coax you as if he’s a genius of relaxation, as if he’s not just some—

“are you even listening to me?”

you blink, only now alerted to the atmosphere of your surroundings. your temple spasms, as if you had a wretched out-of-body experience, bile forming at the seam of your throat. donghyuck doesn’t look pissed simply exasperated, you quirk your eyebrow upward and level at him with little to no displeasure.

“sorry i was.. lost” your evident distraction screws his expression, and he begins pouting like a child who got the world’s shittiest christmas gift. you find it in yourself to fashion a grin of amusement. “are you angry at me?”

“no—“

“are you sure?” you advance and grab him by his leather jacket sleeves, the one you got him for that date, oh how the mighty change. your nails dig into the fabric whilst an ever so morbid smile blossoms over your face, twitching right eye aside. “i’ll do anything to make it up to you”.

you catch the unmistakable fear in his eyes, but he rushes to replace it. that would be ridiculous, he isn’t scared of you, if he truly was he’d think on his actions some more. it’s not like you’d ever do anything to hurt him, just the imbeciles who stand in your way.

“i’d like you to let me go”.

“tell me what i did wrong!”

he stumbles backward in his disturbance and you frown, of course you’re in the wrong when you have an uninformed outburst. donghyuck has so many of those you could compile them into a video for the world’s viewing, and yet the prevalent whispers about you begin, as if you’re some sort of terrible person.

you aren’t the one who asked for this.

“you did nothing wrong” and look at him, trying to mediate, like the goddamn angel he is.

“you implied that i did,” you keep staring at him, at his eyes which you want so terribly to chew on and swallow so you can take that part of him wherever. “some boyfriend you are..” is all that’s mumbled.

the blurred picture of an apology he puts on for everyone else dissipates through the ringing in your blearing ears, and your pressed to his chest on a rejoicing embrace as you feel the remains of yourself begin to fade. one day your grin will never disappear, you wonder how he’ll enjoy the beautiful horizon then, will he still stick to lovingly petting your hair like he is now?

donghyuck has nice skin, you want to strip him off it so you can wear it around town.

you think he would probably dislike that, he seems to dislike a lot of you these days. you wondered ominously if you should alert him of the searing irony in that, but you kept your mouth shut in order to level his feelings. his insistence you remain around pervades, and perhaps there’s a particular irony that you once more won’t step on.

he sleeps like a frank child, to be fair, you wonder if he appears the same whilst dead. there is the possibility that he could be both dead and beautiful, eyes pure white and devoid of any possible life. you’re hopeful that he hasn’t changed his mind, that he isn’t thinking of a quaint escape in the middle of the night, what did you ever do to him which was so cruel?

he shuffles for a moment, shuddering against the cold bedroom and shuffling as if he was having a bad dream. when he turns over, his eyes open slightly and you wonder if he entirely glimpses you just staring down at his sleeping body.

“what are you doing?”

“watching you” is replied simply, you aren’t tired, and your only seam of entertainment is observing the idle rise and fall of his chest.

his arm falls over his eyes, his gaze shaded away from you. “and why aren’t you sleeping?”

“can’t” you cushion, hand carting through his hair in an initially gentle manner. “you sleep like a baby” your grip tightens only slightly, just in case he gets any ideas. you can’t fathom why he would ever want to leave you.

he grunts, you don’t still. “do you really love me?”

his eye twitches solemnly, you don’t enjoy what that’s making you question. it’s a simple yes or no you believe, and you’re a simple man with no desire for anger.

of course.

johnny is on the phone. donghyuck’s birthday party was near a month ago, according to him he’s trying to see if he wants to meet up for mark’s return at the end of the week. he apparently hasn’t heard from donghyuck in a while, a particular while, he’s started to worry himself into a phone dialing hole. you like johnny, even before the spiral you found yourself in, and you don’t like him any less considering.. circumstances.

he said this weekend, how unfortunate, you informed him that donghyuck probably wouldn’t make it. he has a fever. you cushion, he can’t even get on the phone because he’s resorting to complaining in his bed about how he’s sweating over his comforter. mark is going to be bummed, you’ll find a way to make it up to him.

that is half–true, donghyuck isn’t complaining, you don’t think you could call it that, give or take. donghyuck’s pretty eyes are fixated on the ceiling, but they hold still as his limbs remained pinned to the couch. your atmosphere reeks of ichor, your fault, you’ll find it in yourself to clean up later. he would somehow still dig up the tongue for complaining, so it’s fortunate he’s been gratuitously shut up.

“is he alright?”

“oh you know him,” you muse, humming as if he’s giving you the silent treatment over something petty. blood begins pooling from the tips of his fingers, and you swear silently at your shotty craftsmanship. “he always wants it to go his way”.

he shoots what appears to be an attempt at a disregarding complaint, his jaw isn’t giving him much material to work with. you close your eyes and you imagine the tenfold of excuses privy to spill from your mouth the moment people begin wondering. he makes a brave dare to glance at you but you don’t squint at him, how typical of him, you can’t even make a simple mistake without the bearing of the entire world being pressed onto your shoulders.

“you’re a terrible communicator” you reprise, sucking your teeth, narrowing your eyes. johnny says something about not fighting on the phone, you sigh offhandedly. “but now we won’t have that problem anymore”.