#andechoverie

two days. that's how long it's been since he last saw hwaseong. more specifically, it's been two days, six text messages, and three missed calls. what the fuck. is hwaseong ignoring him? him, as in lucas? as in his best mate and most favourite person in the whole wide world?

but hwaseong isn't the type to just ignore people. or at least, the type to ignore him. which brings him to the worst possible conclusion: hwaseong is dead. lucas laughs at that thought. hwaseong? dead? the guy's got nine lives. he's fine ... but what if this was his ninth life? what if this is it? and just like that, it's no longer a laughing matter.

"hwaseong!" lucas pounds on his door. "open up!" he tries the doorknob, curses at how cold it is to the touch. ( december night, snow on the radar; he ran out in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants because he needed to get to hwaseong, he needed to make sure that he was all right, unhurt, and alive. )

( he hates the cold. it reminds him of that day he came back late and found the taoist priest, his caretaker at the time, passed out in the snow in front of the temple. he shouldn't have been outside at that hour; they followed a strict schedule—inside by nine, bed by ten. it was midnight then. )