And it still feels like pain no matter what.

Breakups are hard. He’s experienced them before. But none of them felt like this, like a fist had been shoved through his chest to grab his heart, take it out and squeeze it until it’s nothing more but a shadow of what it once was.

I don't pay attention to the world ending. It has ended for me many times, and began again in the morning.

'Damaged people are the wisest.', they say.

It's not a house that makes a home," Luhan hums. "It's the people you let into it.

Nah, isn't that kind of how things work?” The back of his neck itches and Minseok wipes the cut hair away with a sweaty palm. “I was trying to stop things before they got messy, but I just kind of ended up making things worse. You know you kind of muscled your way in here – ” He presses a hand against his chest. “ – and then you were gone. And the worst part is, you're a decent drunk kisser.

Love is the memory that time cannot kill.

His fingers wrap around the puzzle piece before he tosses it into the waste bin beneath Lu Han’s desk. “I’m making sure the wall isn’t impenetrable.” Minseok points to the empty gap he just made. “That’s an opening. I’m leaving an opening because I don’t want my walls to keep you out.” Lu Han looks confused, eyes narrowing ever so slightly in a feeble attempt at figuring out the meaning behind Minseok’s words. “I don’t understand.” “I’m sorry for making you wait this long but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to like you back.

he had wanted to throw the ring, the diamonds on it still sparkling in their neat little row—neat, the way everything kyungsoo did always was—he was about to throw it into the river. he was about to have it melted and the gold and jewels sold.  jongdae had convinced him to keep it—to wear it, at the very least, for today.  baekhyun is twenty-two when he places a white lily on his fiance’s coffin. 

This one shows a city square, with a palace in the background. At the center, there’s a statue of a woman with seashells in her hair. Under the picture, in thick words, it reads, Find peace in Noveria. Lu Han turns the postcard, this time, there are only a few words written at the back. 'Don’t fight it. I’m still waiting. I love you, Minseok.

Please don't break my heart." The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about the consequences. They stood between them like a wall and Jongdae could barely find the strength to look at Joonmyun again. He hid behind his hands, groaning softly to himself. But it was the truth. And he couldn't take it back anymore. "I don't plan on it." And Joonmyun breaks the wall gracefully, just like Jongdae would expect him to. 

There are a million things he wants to say to him. 'Don’t go. Please, don’t leave me.' The words all die away at the back of his throat and he forces a smile. 

I love you,” Minseok says, looking at Jongdae with wishful eyes. “You know that, right?” “You tell me every day,” Jongdae replies, biting back a smile. “You almost have me convinced.

I’m trying to,” he says, caressing the dark red machine, “but words fail me sometimes.

I’m sorry, Lu Han--” She doesn’t even look at him. Her eyes stay fixed on the x-rays of Lu Han’s lungs, the dark matter that had been sucking out his breath mocks the both of them, appearing clearly on the laminate. Her next words are filled with medical jargon, too fast and too much for Lu Han to understand. It’s pointless now. He’s dying and there’s nothing they can do. “--you’re not a strong candidate for surgery. We could try chemo, but—” “It’s okay, doctor.” Lu Han looks through the exams spread over her desk. He doesn’t understand these numbers, or what they add up to. All that runs through his mind is how incongruous life is, virtually facetious. The same day a life is brought into this world, another is cursed. The cycle continues. “I just want to go home.

There is a moment of deliberate, weighted eye contact between them. Minseok brings up a hand to cradle Luhan's face. It's familiar and loving. Then he nods--encouraging, almost?--and in all seriousness, he repeats the same words. "Whatever you want, Lu." Luhan's smile unfurls timidly at first. He can't believe what Minseok is offering him. But then he remembers. Fingers laced in cable cars. Milk tea shared in crowded streets. A long escalator ride to the top of a city. He thinks of climbing into bed at night with the man he loves--the sexy, devastating one in all the magazines; the soft, warm, sleepy version in his comfortable pajamas. All at once, Luhan is beaming. His heart is so full, and his hands hold Minseok near and dear.

The seconds tick by and just when Minseok is sure this is the end of today's conversation, Lu Han says, "I just want to be good enough for someone. I try, but I never am.

It's when Jongin covers Sehun's hand with his, intertwining their fingers that Sehun breaks the silence. "Stay with me." He whispers. He doesn't expects an answer but Jongin's body seems to tense, pressed against his bare back. He doesn't remove his palm from Sehun's hand though and that's all that matters at the moment. Maybe it's love, maybe it's not.