#mmchahee

      late nights were always second nature to him. he’s used to it—the smell of midnight, crisp and cold. tonight though, was different. ( that’s how all the stories begin anyways. ) he really did intend to sleep early tonight. with year seven and counting, the pressure to graduate with more than just plain, decent grades is starting to take its toll. if not for himself, then maybe to show something to his uncle. ( here. i’m capable. let me in. ) the quiz tomorrow is small, but yujun wants to get enough rest anyways to make up for his sloppy, procrastination filled cram session.

      the call comes right after he’s gotten comfortable in bed. if it wasn’t for his terrible eyesight, he would have probably let it go to voicemail. but alas, he can’t tell the difference between the green and red icons without his contacts on.

      it’s alarming how quickly he jumps out of the covers, phone in hand. feet scrambling to find shoes. glasses thrown on haphazardly. he apparates to her apartment door quickly. carelessly. luckily, he didn’t seem to have spliced himself in the process. ( she’s lucky. )

      the landing made his glasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly. he reaches to push them back up. god, he hates wearing them. his hand is raised and poised to knock when he falters, curled fingers still lingering between the door and whatever lay beyond. is this too much? perhaps. it was instinct that drove him here in the first place. the cortisol is still being pumped through his veins ( lightening white, and hot to the touch. ) then again, he’s seo yujun. too sure of himself to second guess. too confident to look back.

      this is normal. this is what friends do. especially at times like these. at times when there’s a sharp, raw pain gnawing at the seams. a wound being opened over and over again with each rising of the sun. he knows only a small fraction of what she might be feeling, but maybe that was enough.