JongIn was stuck, pondering about resuming dancing, when all of the sudden he woke up ten minutes ago. Did he really want it? Yes, he did and he pleaded it for a whole year. Though he never defined the reason for stopping, deep inside he needed to punish himself just a bit more, for the calamity. Once again, as if his voice, piano, life, wasn't enough. He wondered, at five in the morning as to why he ever decided on this? It wouldn't make SeHun materialize before him, if he penalized himself just enough. But what was enough? That's where the question laid.
He was drained by this life, to the point where he hesistated if it was still life. No dedication or hobby, no evident emotions, a slight change from time to time. JongIn eeded to go back to it all, to confront the situations and places that made him recall, and from skratch, start again. He just lacked the motivation and was desperate to find it.
It was hot.
Idly, he found himself arising from the cozy bed for a cup of orange juice; tonight, the water was too tasteless. As soon as his heavy head settles on the feathery pillow, he floated away in unconsciousness.
KyungSoo dashed around the house in hectic, shoving through everything inside out and cursing secretly, which was truly dissimilar of him, as well as the fact he was late. Today was truly, unlike Do KyungSoo.
“Shit! Hyung! Hyung, have you seen my keys? Or my phone? Wallet maybe?” Chaos was one of those peculiar things KyungSoo shunned.
“Late, lost and cursing? Ok, now tell me stranger where is my Kyung?” SeungSoo let out a brief grin and gave him concise directions to the misplaced items. Keys on the sofa, wallet in the drawer, phone in... His hand. KyungSoo shook himself, noticing that his phone was in his hand all the time. He must've been unquiestionably exhausted today.
“Here, drink it.” Blithely, KyungSoo gulped the too-sweet coffee and headed off with a rushed goodbye on his lips, to the shop where YiXing might presumably slaughter him. Typically, YiXing was...