It's midnight, halfway between a hazy Monday and a jam-packed Tuesday, and Renjun is sprawled on the sofa. The clocks ticked over to a new day, yet nothing feels new to Renjun. He doesn't move, barely even blinks, and just lets the minutes slip away. He knows the sun was still high in the sky when he collapsed there, and he knows various friends have been and gone, but that's about it. He didn't register the faces, didn't utter more than a vague hum in response to whatever they had to say. The television rolls but he doesn't know which movie it is; something with a strange mix of too many kisses and even more explosions.

Curling his toes, Renjun pulls a cushion to his chest and lets his eyes close. Static fills his head as a restless buzz fills the stage of his eyelids. Legs numb, his left ankle prickles from lack of use. Each breath is tight. He counts through them but his body still tenses, and he can't stand up nor rest.

The shuffle of footsteps makes him crack open an eyelid, and he forces a smile at the sight of Jisung in faded space pyjamas and with ruffled hair.

"Hey," he says. The only light in the room comes from the television, and when Renjun turns it off neither reaches for the light switch. In the dark, the creak of the sofa as Jisung sits is awkward.

"Hey," Jisung replies, just as quiet.

Renjun squints at the younger and replaces the cushion behind his back. Jisung breathes heavily, like his head is also full.

"You're normally dead to the world by now," Renjun starts with a truncated laugh. "Why are you up?"

"Thought you might want a hug," Jisung mumbles.

It takes the elder a moment to decipher the words, and when he does he exhales in surprise.

"A hug?"

"Yeah," Jisung says.

Renjun sits up straighter when the younger touches his arm, then laughs again and pulls Jisung into his side with a rush of determination. "Don't be shy."

"Okay," Jisung says.

"Thank you. I did need a hug."

Renjun hasn't had physical contact since Jeno comforted him, and that was the best part of a week ago. The days have passed in a blur that doesn't slow, doesn't give him a single moment to stop and breathe and process what he's doing. He doesn't know where his life is going. All he seems to do is walk. He walks to lectures, walks to the library, walks to a different lecture, then to art to draw the same concept five times, then eventually to the dorm where he watches a plate of food turn in the microwave only to leave it for the next day and walk to his room.

Without the puzzle piece that is Mark, life doesn't seem to flow. Nothing is lucid and everything is hazy. Renjun wants to cry but he can't. He just freezes.

"Did he give any indication of when he'd be back?" Jisung asks. It's an innocent question yet Renjun has to take a controlled breath to not be sarcastic in response.

"No," he says simply.

Mark texted to say he's off for treatment again. He said he'd be longer this time, that he made an emergency appointment and they're doing extra checks. He said Renjun shouldn't worry.

Renjun hasn't done anything except worry for the week he's been gone.

He told his friends that Mark went back to Canada for family reasons, and no one questioned the hitch in his voice nor the uncertain crumple of his eyebrows that would suggest there's more to it than that. Chenle interrogated him as they traipsed to the corner shop together. He let Chenle pay for his groceries, swallowing down the shame with glaring lies. The younger let it slide. The quiet walk home told Renjun that Chenle won't let it slide for much longer.

Renjun squeezes Jisung tight, then lets Jisung take his position, curling up into the youngest's side with his knees tucked in and head on the younger's chest. He feels exposed but so warm, and he rides the waves of each breath. Each exhale chips away at another level of his raw being and he doesn't protest, ignoring the irritation that crawls under his skin to pry him away from his friend.

"Does it hurt?" The question comes with trepidation, but like always Jisung's curiosity wins.

Renjun's next exhale is shaky. "Yeah," he whispers back.

"What does it feel like?" Jisung asks.

"It's emptiness," Renjun starts. Jisung hums in slow understanding. "It hurts because I feel nothing. Without Mark, the world seems dull again. My heart aches and my chest is tight, but emotionally... I'm just drained."

"That's scary. I'm sorry. I wish I could solve it." Jisung rests his chin on Renjun's head. The elder follows Jisung's trailing fingers up his arm. The touch seems hesitant but he's grateful for it. "I don't want to meet my soulmate. Is that wrong?"

Renjun opens his eyes, not having realised they were closed, and stares at the stack of folders on the coffee table. They belong to Jeno, even though the ragged, dented corners don't match his careful demeanour, and Renjun had half-heartedly reminded him to tidy them away. Somehow, knowing that his statement went unheard doesn't sting. Hearing Jisung's confession does sting, though.

"No," Renjun replies. "But don't let all this scare you away. Meeting your soulmate is..." The word isn't available in his mind so he stalls, taken aback by the absence of the right phrase. He inhales, tries again. "It's scary, sure. Kind of strange. But it's fun. It's new and exciting."

He won't admit it, but Renjun winces and is glad that Jisung can't see his expression, instead relying on a gentle whisper to convince the younger to not hold back.

"But I don't want to be that reliant on someone. What if they go on a trip, too?" Jisung sniffs and Renjun sits up, only for the younger to push him back down and keep him held tight in his arms. "What if they die? What would happen then?"

Renjun's throat snaps shut and blood roars through his ears, clashing with his thoughts in a fiery mess of fear. It's not a new idea. But now it hogs his mind.

He doesn't know what would happen if Mark were to die.

Mouth dry and jaw tight, Renjun closes his eyes again and hisses at the red spots that spark across his vision. He doesn't know what treatment Mark has. He doesn't know what they do to him when he's at the hospital. Images of frail wrists and sunken cheeks snarl and wind around his throat.

"Renjun?"

Renjun shakes, unable to control his heart. Its beat stutters and stumbles in a panic to find Mark. It doesn't seem to care how it gets there, as long as it reaches its soulmate.

"Renjun." Jisung's grip tightens around his waist and Renjun is jostled by the younger's attempt to lay him down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Jeno's voice appears, soon joined by Chenle's. It's the careful lilt of familiar Chinese characters that grounds Renjun and, when he comes to, his hair is matted to his forehead and his tongue is too heavy in his mouth, as sluggish as his legs when he tries to sit back up.

"Stay," Chenle soothes. "Breathe."

Renjun obeys. He stares at the ceiling to gather his thoughts. When all trails circle back to Mark, he looks at his friends instead. Jeno's fluffy hair – freshly dried after a scolding shower – makes him smile, then so do the bears on Chenle's pyjamas.

"That can't be comfy," Chenle says next. He motions to the jeans that cling to Renjun's thighs and the hoodie that hasn't been washed for weeks. "Why don't you have a shower and put on some fresh clothes?"

Embarrassment burns Renjun's cheeks. Being babied by Chenle of all people makes him squirm and cringe, although when he does as told he doesn't fight the relief that fills his bones. He returns to the sofa half an hour later and they're still waiting. Jisung's eyes widen with relief and Chenle shifts to allow him to squeeze between him and Jeno.

"We're here for you," Chenle says. He draws the words out, long and full of teasing like he's mocking a therapist, but he means it.

His eyes crinkle with a welcoming smile and he means it, and Renjun follows Chenle's breaths, only to chase circles and arrive back at the same mess of broken pieces he began with. He feels scattered, chipped and worn away. He's an abandoned rock on the beach, his rough edges and sharp corners ugly in comparison to the smooth, shining pebbles around him. He rides the waves, but his thrashing arms and gasping breaths are in vain, for the current is far too strong to overcome.

"You can ask for an extension to deadlines," Jeno suggests when Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose. Even with his eyes screwed shut, he can detect the furrow of Jeno's brow.

"I did that a few weeks back. Remember?" Jisung adds. "And everything turned out fine."

"Or you could contact the counsellor. You could book a session and talk things through with someone who knows what they're on about more than we do," Chenle says.

The options circle Renjun's mind like a lion does its prey. Renjun huddles into a ball and shakes his head. He's seen the list of support options countless times throughout his first year already, so much so that it's daunting and seems like a way bigger deal than it really is.

He fears the only solution is to return to Mark. But that could be tomorrow, or it could be next month.

Or it could be never.

Renjun sucks in a breath and shakes his head harder, squeezes the bridge of his nose harder until his nails dig into his skin and it stings enough to turn numb. Jeno takes his hand. The younger's warm and Renjun traces the ridges of his knuckles with his own icy fingers.

The room is quiet. Renjun doesn't like it. It makes his heartbeat echo through his ears and the sound of his own breath pisses him off, so he clamps down around Jeno's hand and hopes he catches the mouthed apology. He thinks of the classes his friends have tomorrow. Of his own classes. Then of Mark's classes. He doesn't know how Mark catches up on content. For Renjun, falling behind is as bad as failing. It's a death sentence; a shortcut to failure. The mere idea of gaining an extra week to complete an assignment has his stomach knotting in anxiety, because that's just an extra week for him to stare at a blank document and catastrophise.

When Chenle suggests they all go to bed, Renjun follows him in a daze. He doesn't realise he's in the younger's room until he's covered by a duvet smelling of baby powder and whispered reassurances in Chinese.

Renjun awakes to the same voice, only this time it's a murmur as Chenle speaks to his parents on the phone. They chat about how classes are going, how piano practice is going, if he's joined any more clubs or if he's got enough money, and Renjun doesn't open his eyes. He rolls over and buries his face in the pillow to savour the last moments in the haze of sleepiness. It's too early, or perhaps he just went to bed too late, yet either way Chenle treats him like glass when he nudges his shoulder.

"Come on. I've already made breakfast, then we can head to class together," Chenle says.

Jisung tiptoes around him too when he joins them in the kitchen. Renjun's stomach rumbles, suffering from his lack of motivation to cook dinner the previous night, but he can't bring himself to touch his chopsticks. He can't move when he's tied down by thoughts and emotions. They swirl round his insides, an unforgiving storm, but it's always the emptiness that swallows them up, grinding them down to a mush he can't make sense of.

He rolls the vial of soulmate dust between his thumb and forefinger while his teeth run over his lips in deep thought.

"I'm not mad at Mark," Renjun says. He only registers that he spoke out loud when Jisung grunts in confusion and Chenle raises his eyebrows. Seeing their reaction helps him make peace with the statement. "I'm not mad at Mark." The second time, his voice is stronger and he starts to eat.

Sleep begs his eyes to close but he pushes through for the sake of being patient for once. He chews slowly. He gives his mind a chance to mull things over.

"I'm just worried." Renjun nods with confidence now. "I'm just scared. Not angry."

He felt angry when he ripped all his drawings up. The world had flashed red and he lost control, but in the aftermath of the storm lay crumbled, vulnerable feelings. With the outer layers stripped away, his deepest emotions can seep out. If the others notice him quiver, they don't mention it. His fingers tense and the food turns to rock in his stomach, but at least he's feeling something, and he smiles.

"I'll go to class. It'll help me take my mind of things," Renjun decides, proud of himself even if he's still lost amongst the rubble.

"Are you sure?" Chenle asks from where he's got soap suds up to his elbows at the sink. Renjun ignores the thought of disappointment that he's been deemed incapable of doing such a simple chore.

"Yeah."

Renjun savours his breakfast, then brushes his teeth for a full two minutes before washing his face and brushing his hair and even picking out a clean shirt. He's scared for the difficult assignments the day will throw at him. He's scared he won't see Mark soon enough for his heart to cope. But Chenle talks to him about the latest update on his favourite video game while they cross the university campus, and the clouds are white and fluffy, the breeze just right, so Renjun can breathe for now.

𓆩♡𓆪 

Just a bit of a filler chapter I'm afraid :( mostly character study, but plot is coming *ominous evil laughter*