Renjun texts Mark as soon as he's passed the job of washing dishes to an obedient Jisung and disgruntled Chenle.

Mark reads it and doesn't reply.

Renjun doesn't know if that's an improvement from disappearing or not. At least he knows Mark is alive, that he's seen the message, although it stings to be ignored. He sits in his room, phone clasped in a vice grip and eyes sore from staring at the blinking cursor for too long. He types a message, deletes it, tries again, deletes it again.

I hope you feel better soon!

He settles on a simple message and locks his phone, discarding it on his pillow to flick through his list of assignments instead. There are plenty of essays he could be getting on with. He fears the whole soulmate business is getting in the way of his studies and, as much as he now wants nothing more than a loving soulmate in his life, he can't bear the thought of throwing away all the money his family have invested in his education. Punching out an essay for the contemporary art module somehow takes him on a tangent through rewriting all his notes from his first psychology lecture, only for none of it to make any more sense than it previously did, and he eventually lands on a job website. Palm squished against his cheek and elbow digging into his desk, he scrolls past advert after advert, page after page of cafés demanding too many hours for too little pay. His attention glazes over. When he does find a restaurant that seems reasonable, they require at least a year of experience, so he closes the tab, a rainbow of curses stinging his lips.

Maybe Mark can put in a good word for him at the café. Surely they could do with someone to just clean tables for a couple of hours a week. It doesn't have to be a lot of money. Anything is better than nothing. He could book an appointment at the university's career centre, but pride glues him to the chair, paints the image of his parents' praise when he finds a job all on his own.

Painting. That's something else he could be doing.

Mark appears in every sketch that afternoon. By five o'clock, Renjun buries his head in his hands and stares at the pencil strokes. Maybe they're telling him something. The psychology professor mentioned how art can reveal a lot about someone's subconscious. Although it's no secret that Renjun can't stop thinking about Mark. But basing his project around Mark? That's too far. Yet he doesn't erase them. He strokes the bear-shaped eraser, but it never touches paper.

His world kind of does revolve around Mark at the moment. He's happy when Mark is happy. He hurts when Mark isn't there. It's like a rainstorm approaches and causes the ink the bleed, smearing his feelings around until this chapter of his life is indecipherable and messy.

"Movie night. You joining us?" Jeno calls through the crack in the door. Renjun grunts, doesn't move until Jeno's footsteps fade into Chenle's screeches and Jaemin's pleads for everyone to just shut up and pick a film.

Renjun squeezes into the space next to Jisung. He tosses his phone between his hands, knees drawn to his chest, while the others bicker. He checks his messages every minute, on autopilot he case he misses something.

"Are you waiting for some news?" Chenle whispers in soft Chinese that makes Renjun want to run away back home. Away from the mess he's in.

He turns his phone on silent, then back on again, clearing his throat. "It's Mark. He's not replying but he's read the messages."

"Ah," Chenle says. "You should talk to him. Go to art and find him or something. Or just wait it out. It'll be fine, I'm sure."

Renjun shakes his head and lets his cheek land on Chenle's shoulder. The younger doesn't complain like usual, instead keeping still to grant Renjun the comfort and warmth of a friend to lean on, and he's grateful. Blurred by his loud thoughts, the movie makes no sense but he stays put, blinking back tears and breathing slow to clear the lump in his throat. He hides his face in Chenle's neck. He blames it on a lack of sleep when Jaemin asks.

His soulmate dust dims when he falls asleep, the yellow whispering through the night, raspy and weak.

It takes two days for Mark to respond. The ping of Renjun's phone catches him off-guard, for he hadn't turned his phone off before the lecture, and it has everyone in the vicinity turning to stare at him. The professor pauses, but continues, so he fiddles with his phone under the desk. He's glad he chose to sit at the back. It may mean he has to squint at the board, although he was organised enough to print the slides before class so that's not too big of a problem for his exhausted eyes.

hey

Renjun bites his cheek to stop himself from snorting with scornful laughter. Mark ghosts him, only to text a basic 'hi'. Chenle would tell him to ghost Mark back. He's about to switch his phone off when he notices the three little dots that indicate the elder is typing, so he waits, ignoring the heavy thrum of his heart.

i'm doing alright

thank you for the messages, it means a lot to me🥺

Renjun taps his pen on his notebook, earning a disapproving glare from the guy to his left. Stupid Mark and his stupid cute emojis. His phone vibrates again.

wanna come round?

wait r you even free today? you don't have to come, just thought it would be nice yk?

we can talk

Talk about what? And then the bullet hits Renjun's heart.

i miss u

Renjun inhales through his nose, holds it for four, exhales through his mouth and drops his pen into his pencil case.

Mark is still online, waiting, and he can picture the ruffle of his brow while he anticipates a response. Renjun feels bad for making him wait. But he doesn't know what to say. His tight heart wants to leave the room right now, to run all the way to Mark's apartment and fall into his arms, to hold him like he held Jaemin. But he can't, so a short message has to suffice.

im in class rn

But i'll be there after, so at around three? does that work for u?

Mark responds with a thumbs up and a line of happy emojis that makes Renjun smile. They wipe away his anger, leaving a clean slate of excitement for him to relish in while the professor drones on about the different lobes of the brain. He signed up for extra credit, not to have to learn complicated science stuff. He figures he can just find someone in the class who's willing to help later. For now, he sketches Mark's pretty eyes in the margin of his notebook.

The sun meets him outside and he smiles silly on the walk to Mark's apartment. He shivers from anxiety when he remembers the last time he met the elder boy. Will he want to talk about it? Will he try to apologise like he always does? Will things be awkward?

"Hi!" Mark swings open the door and bounces on the balls of his feet while Renjun piles his things in the hallway and adds his shoes to the rack. He twists his fingers together too, like Donghyuck had done to refrain from bundling Jaemin into his arms.

Renjun wants to hug Mark, so he does.

The elder releases a quiet yelp of surprise. At the same time, warmth hits Renjun to ripple through his skin, then it pulses in his heart and in his cheeks until he's giddy, hardly able to stand up with his weak knees.

"Is this... okay?" Renjun asks when the haze clears enough for him to notice how Mark has stiffened, not hugging back. He pulls away, and their eyes lock together.

Mark rubs his arms and clears his throat, now looking at the floor. "Yeah," he breathes out. "Yeah. It's okay. Sorry, it just... I wasn't expecting a hug."

He examines Renjun's necklace. "Your dust," he whispers.

The yellow has returned with an intense burst of gold. When he sees it, Renjun takes it in his grip. It's warm, like the dust has soaked up all the happiness he felt in Mark's arms.

"I liked the colour." Mark clears his throat again. His own necklace remains hidden under a thick black hoodie that exaggerates his pale skin. "I liked the hug, too," he admits in a small voice, eyes darting to Renjun, back to the dust.

"You're such an idiot," Renjun chuckles, pulling Mark closer than the first time.

This time, Mark's arms slide around the younger's waist and their chests press close, bodies slotting together in a bubble made just for them. Renjun's eyes shut. He breathes in Mark's scent. He sighs happily when Mark squeezes him tight.

"I was about to apologise, but I didn't want your scolding to ruin the moment," Mark mutters into his ear.

As his breath tickles Renjun's ear, Renjun smiles into the crook of the elder's neck while his thoughts circle through the memory of Mark's disappearance, his tears, his grey soulmate dust. Instead of letting it all block his throat, he relaxes and enjoys the full-body experience that is falling into his soulmate's arms.

"Do you feel it too?" The question is shy. Mark's silence scares him.

Renjun lifts his head, then when Mark pulls away to lean against the wall, he gets his answer.

"I'm sorry," Mark says. Renjun doesn't scold him. Now's not the time to tease. Cold creeps up his spine and sets his expression to stone he can't crack even when he tries to smile in sympathy for the elder.

"It's okay." It's not okay. It's not fair that Mark feels nothing. It's not fair that Renjun doesn't know why Mark doesn't feel the connection.

"We should move from the hallway," Mark says.

Renjun follows him into the living room where they land on the sofa, a foot of static air between them. Tense and awkward, they avoid each other's eyes. Renjun fights the urge to hug Mark again. Mark seems to fight the urge to say whatever's wreaking havoc in his head behind the orbs of his eyes and frizz of his bangs.

"So..." Mark licks his lips and scratches his chin, fingers hovering to pick at the faint stubble on the skint there. "So, I asked you to come round because I... um... there's something I need to tell you." A shaky exhale strings the words together and it takes Renjun a moment to decipher the rushed mumble. "I thought I could tell you here, rather than in art or the café or wherever."

Renjun's heart pounds. Energy leftover from the hug tingles his skin even now, making it more difficult to maintain the distance between them. He can practically feel the warmth of his soulmate, and he can sense the fear, too. The apprehension in Mark's restless gaze begs for comfort. Yet his eyes shoot open wide and he shakes his head and flinches away from Renjun's extended hand, making the younger stuff his hands in his pocket.

"Jungwoo said it would be good for me to... to tell someone," Mark continues. He dodges the subject with an unrehearsed warm-up routine of clearing his throat and shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. "About why I disappear and get short of breath sometimes."

Renjun nods again. The cushion feels lumpy behind his back, the tassel on the corner digging into his spine.

"About why my dust hasn't changed colour."

"You don't have to tell me," Renjun says quickly, ensuring to get the reassurance out there, to make sure Mark knows it's an option.

"You're my soulmate," Mark replies. "I have to tell you. I can't not tell you. Plus my breakdown kind of gave away that there's something going on."

Hearing Mark confirm those words snatches Renjun's breath for a second.

"Then just tell me." Renjun attempts a small smile. If he has to wait any longer, he thinks he'll combust. That his heart will break free from his chest or just disintegrate altogether.

Mark frowns and the younger witness him gather his thoughts and try to sew them into a story that makes sense. "You know how people have spirit in their blood for their soulmate? Wait, of course you know that. Sorry. Right... and you know how the spirit is extracted and turned to dust for your eighteenth birthday?"

Renjun nods, wincing at the memory of the needle going into his arm, of the tiny jar the doctor transferred his blood into, of the white hospital walls that bored the crap out of him while he waited three hours to receive his necklace, mother jittery with excitement at his side. He doesn't like where this is going.

"I was born with a weak heart." Mark swallows, then turns to face Renjun with a set jaw and watery eyes, sincere and honest as he continues to peel back the layers of his façade. "It doesn't impact day-to-day activities – I can still run and stuff – but my heart doesn't make enough soulmate spirit. Which means I don't have dust, and I can't connect with you."

Renjun blinks. He didn't know where he thought the conversation would go, but that wasn't it. The silence makes his thoughts scream louder, and they circle his mind and he can't focus on a single one, can't work out what he feels.

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know," Mark whispers. He rubs his eyes. The tears don't fall, but he inhales deep and slow to hold them back. "It's why the first touch was so intense for you. Your heart is straining to connect with me but can't find me. That's what my doctor said, anyway. She explained it to me in my last appointment. Oh yeah, that too. I go for monthly treatments. Over the years my heart has been improving, but the last appointment wasn't... great. Um... shit I'm so stupid." He laughs now, a sad little chuckle that wrenches Renjun's heart. "I can feel a faint kind of tingle when I'm around you, but I've always wanted to actually feel something, you know? When I turned eighteen and people around me started to find their soulmates I was so angry. I was determined to find someone. I... I slept around a lot. I'd go to parties even though I'm an anxious mess because maybe I'd find my soulmate there. The most recent time was only a few weeks ago."

"The hickeys..."

"Yeah," Mark says. "I wasn't lying when I said I was lonely before I met you."

Renjun blinks, frowns, tightens his hands to fists in his pockets. The world doesn't stop – not quite – but it stutters and slows while he tries to wrap his head around everything Mark just revealed, because Mark's leg bounces again and his fingers dance up and down the string of his necklace.

"Is it fake?" Mark nods.

"I didn't have one, but people would ask questions and stare and assume the worst," Mark explains. "So I got one."

"It confused me," Renjun mutters. "Angered me, even." He corrects himself, voice a little louder but still soft in its vexation, like the calm before the first crack of lightning. "I couldn't understand why I was shaking just from taking a pencil from your hand, while you felt nothing. Did you really feel nothing?"

Yet again, Mark's sad, hopeless smile supplies the answer. Sharp collarbones poke out from the neck of his oversized hoodie, shadows as dark as the grey dust that sits lifeless in the vial. Renjun stares at it again. A reflection on the glass tricks him into seeing a glow that isn't there, and he deflates. Mark's shoulders sink, too.

"Like I said, just a faint tingle."

Renjun understands. Well, he doesn't, but he wants to. Tries to. It's not Mark's fault, he tells himself, which leaves him cursing the world instead, as he always does.

"Can I hug you?" There's hope in his voice that tugs the pitch up, only to be knocked down when Mark shakes his head.

"My doctor said it's not the best idea right now. The treatment wears me out. Don't ask," Mark says, covering his face with his hands.

"Can I hold your hand?" Renjun asks next. He's cautious, unsure of the boundaries and unsure of how to navigate his soulmate's condition, but he wants to make it work. They'll find a way. That much he's sure of.

Mark doesn't respond for a second. He looks at the younger's small fingers and the birthmark on the back of his hand, before finally raising his own. "Holding hands is fine."

Palms sticky and fingers tense, they sit on the sofa and shuffle to close the distance between them so that their thighs brush together, so that their shoulders kiss.

"We'll make it work, Renjun," Mark says, squeezing the younger's hand. Renjun bites his tongue to conceal his gasp when the small action is enough to set off fireworks in his heart. "I promise we'll find a way to be together and bond." The younger sniffs, but he's still too stunned to cry. And he's content to hold his soulmate's hand, even if his blood demands more.

"I'll go to my treatment every month and get stronger for you."

"I'll wait for you."

"I'm gonna hug you anyway." Mark presses his face into the crook of Renjun's neck. The tip of his nose is cold as it touches his skin, but soon warms up when the younger wraps his free arm around his torso to pull him close.

They stay wrapped around each other for what could be minutes or hours. Their hands stay clasped between them even when Mark's body relaxes, seeming to give into the embrace and go limp on Renjun's chest. Regardless of the consequences, neither wants to let go. From now on, they're in it together. Renjun isn't going to leave Mark to fight alone.

𓆩♡𓆪

Secrets have been revealed, so here we go...

How has your week been? I hope it's been very lovely <3