Renjun isn't one to binge dramas. In fact, he hardly watches anything besides an occasional episode if Jaemin needs some company, or if Jisung has become obsessed with a new show he's desperate to talk about with someone. That doesn't stop Renjun from opening his deserted Netflix account to select the first clichéd drama he can find.

It's one where the leads fall in love. It's predictable. It's short, sweet and simple, with a plot that isn't difficult for his sleep-addled brain to follow at two in the morning. His thoughts whir like the poor overheated laptop that sits precariously on his legs, loud and choking and insistent. Burying himself deeper under the sheets, he selects the next episode.

He shouldn't have stayed up to text Mark. He'd planned to sleep early for once, to get his routine back on track and finally shake the weights off his eyelids, but the elder said he couldn't sleep. That he felt kind of lonely. Each emoji Mark sent bore another whole in Renjun's heart. They made him smile, but they made him bitter, too. How could he possibly resist the cuteness? How could he ignore Mark when, with each passing day, his heart gains more territory over his rational thoughts?

The hours flew by. Then Mark stopped replying.

Renjun checks his phone again, squinting under the duvet when the blue light attacks his eyes. Mark was last online an hour and a half ago. He hopes he just fell asleep. Yes. That's probably the answer.

He repeats that mantra to himself until sleep, the only solace, embraces him.

The other guys in the dorm must sense his tetchiness in the morning, for breakfast is quieter than usual. Jaemin eats his toast on the way out the door, and the rest seem to battle between making small talk and just saying nothing at all. It doesn't stop Donghyuck from interrogating Renjun.

"Is he okay?" Donghyuck nudges Renjun's foot under the table, making the Chinese look up from his bowl of soggy Cheerios. They meet eyes. The concern in Donghyuck's clashes with the restlessness in Renjun's.

Renjun prods his cereal with the spoon in his right hand but doesn't eat any. "Who? Jaemin?" Donghyuck glares in response. It's an empty threat, yet bolstered with a steel the elder doesn't want to mess with.

"I'm worried about him. He doesn't speak to me about anything and barely shows affection," Donghyuck starts. Jeno, Chenle and Jisung take that as their cue to move into the living room with their food, allowing the two to chat alone. "I feel like I'm having to chase after him."

Jaemin must not have gone through with his promise. Renjun isn't exactly surprised, but it stings to know Jaemin is so reluctant, even after the talk they had. They've never broken a single promise to each other.

Donghyuck watches a blush of irritation cloud Renjun's features. "You know something, don't you?" He gets up to dump his plate in the sink, then grabs an apple from the fruit bowl before sitting back down. "Please tell me."

"I can't." Renjun shakes his head. A drawn-out sigh leaves Donghyuck's nose. "I can't tell you. It has to come from him."

Donghyuck nods, solemn with understanding, and it infuriates Renjun that something so simple as communication hasn't passed through Donghyuck's mind, especially when the two halves of the couple are blatant opposites of each other. It isn't fair on Jaemin.

"Have you tried asking him?" Renjun ventures.

"No," Donghyuck admits. He chews the first bite of the apple slowly, then the second with more force, as though wishing he were grinding away at their relationship, whittling it down to the issues at its core. "He doesn't open up to me about anything."

Renjun takes a mouthful of cereal and scrunches his nose. "Perhaps that's because he feels you haven't provided space for him to do that."

"Did he... when you two were a thing..." Donghyuck's eyes search the room, his usual brazen confidence hiding as he licks his lips. "Did he talk to you?"

"All the time." Renjun doesn't hesitate. "He still does."

That unsettles Donghyuck. The younger fails to hide the jealousy that wrinkles his brow, the frustration that flashes through his eyes, sharp and pulsating in time with his blinks. Eventually, his shoulders crumple in. His hand comes up to clasp the vial around his neck. Void of his usual brightness, the dulled version of Donghyuck seems small in the room. Like he doesn't fit in with the cracked off-white paint and stained wooden table.

"I'm scared. For him. For our relationship," Donghyuck says. "We're bonded now, but he's only drifted further from me and I don't want to lose him."

He thinks Jaemin has drifted, when in fact he's pushed his soulmate away himself. Renjun doesn't tell him that.

"That could be seriously damaging." Renjun doesn't want to prod the fire, but the words slip out before he can harness his thoughts and he ducks his head, eats more cereal to stop himself from talking.

Donghyuck sighs and closes his eyes. "I know," he mutters.

"But I don't want to tell you what Jaemin said. Well, I do. It's frustrating when Jaemin comes to me to talk about you and refuses to tell you himself. But I don't want to break his trust. He said – promised, in fact – that he'd tell you how he's feeling about the whole bonding thing, so just give him time. Maybe back off with the affection a little?"

"Am I too affectionate? Is that it? I am pushing him too much?"

The elder finishes his breakfast under Donghyuck's probing gaze but gives nothing away. He feels the other needs to find the answer himself. He needs to learn to read Jaemin, to navigate his silence and learn that silence doesn't always mean sadness or anger or exhaustion. That's just who Jaemin is. The opposite of Donghyuck.

Jaemin is a subtle breeze, while Donghyuck is a whirling gust of wind. Donghyuck prances into every room, snatches people's gazes, infuses everyone with his jokes and smiles. His touches to Jaemin's cheeks can be as gentle as the faintest draught of air, yet a smothering hug can choke Jaemin's breath away like a storm rampaging through a town that was already so fragile.

Renjun has spent too long reading between the lines of Jaemin and Donghyuck's relationship. He knows Jaemin doesn't always tell him everything, and he's half glad that his ability to read his ex hasn't faded with time. And he fears the wind might have done too much damage already. That the same wind can't piece things back together.

"Do you have any lectures today?" Donghyuck asks, still holding the apple in his hand. By now it's shrunk to the core, exposing a few brown pips. It threatens to buckle under the tension in his joints.

"Hm?" Renjun doesn't register the question at first, too deep in his thoughts, but then his brain catches up. "Oh. Yeah. At three."

"Cool. Same," Donghyuck replies. The sudden dry conversation makes Renjun want to flee.

In the stiff silence, Donghyuck clears his throat and bins the apple core while Renjun washes his bowl. Unlike the others, Renjun likes to wash up as the mess comes, but refuses to do the job for everyone else too.

"I was gonna do some painting, though. Want to join?"

Renjun isn't sure what makes him invite Donghyuck to sit at his desk with him. Perhaps he pities him. The forlorn, distant expression on the younger's face switches on a rare spot of sympathy in his chest. He passes him a sheet of paper. Donghyuck dips his thumb straight into a blob of red paint in the centre of the palette then streaks it across the page, using his other fingers to smear it out until the paint dries on his skin, exhausted of its pigment. When he reaches for more, Renjun watches in curiosity with his own brush poised in the air.

"Love is messy," Donghyuck says with a shrug.

Renjun looks at his own sketch of the broken heart, drawn bigger now to fill an entire page, yet to come alive with colour, and supposes he and Donghyuck aren't too different. They're like two sides of the same coin, looking at the same dilemma from different perspectives and connected by the same person.

Jaemin returns mid-morning. He brings a smile with him – a gleeful smile Renjun doesn't recognise – and places a shopping bag on the kitchen table as the other two enter.

Donghyuck lets out a muffled yelp of surprise when Jaemin pulls him into his arms. "I missed you," Jaemin whispers into the crook of Donghyuck's neck, hugging him tight and shifting his weight from foot to foot for a gentle rocking motion that confuses his soulmate. Donghyuck hugs him back without delay, but looks past his shoulder to frown at Renjun, mouth open in silent question. The resentment that had only recently settled is stirred awake by the scene in front of him, but Renjun swallows it down and turns away, shakes his head.

"I found a recipe for banana and chocolate muffins," Jaemin announces, pulling away and clapping his hands before unpacking the ingredients.

"I thought you were at a lecture. And what about the lab session this morning? Wasn't that for four hours?" Renjun asks, leaning his waist against the kitchen counter as he folds his arms across his chest. He makes a point of staring at the clock on the wall. Said lab session has only just started.

"I skipped lab. And the lecture gave me a headache," Jaemin says.

He continues his act while he pulls up the recipe on his phone, humming to himself even before he selects his Niki playlist. Renjun stares at him. Donghyuck stares at Renjun. They exchange a look until Jaemin kisses his soulmate's cheek and demands he fill the muffin tray with the cases he bought.

"They've got hearts on them. Aren't they cute?" Jaemin exclaims.

"Just like you, baby," Donghyuck says, kissing Jaemin's cheek. And with that, the confusion dissolves to leave only lovestruck awe in its wake.

Renjun watches the steady glow of their matching soulmate dust as they bake together. Donghyuck feeds Jaemin a chocolate chip, and the younger's giggle sours Renjun's thoughts, although anyone else would see it as an innocent, sweet display of affection, perfect for the sweet cakes they're baking. The couple laugh and pinch each other's waists, then Jaemin pins Donghyuck against the counter for a tickle fight that has them both shrieking. Next, they quiet down and chatter about a show Renjun hasn't even heard of. Maybe he should have chosen that one to watch at two in the morning. Maybe then they'd let him join in.

It only takes a short glance from Jaemin for Renjun to storm out.

He shuts his door, hard, wincing at the slam that shakes the dorm and earns a curse from whoever occupies the neighbouring room, and curls into a ball on his bed. The Jaemin that returned is a stranger. The immediate embrace he had for Donghyuck replays over and over in his mind. The easy disappearance of Donghyuck's confusion has him gritting his teeth.

He's due a long conversation with Jaemin.

Renjun grabs his phone off his desk and plugs in his earphones. A minute later, Taylor Swift's 'Cardigan' is turned up too loud and the lyrics only remind him that he knew Jaemin. He thought he knew Jaemin, even if he knew nothing else about the world. And now he doesn't. Hugging his knees tighter to his chest, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to not succumb to the knot in his throat. He hadn't considered that letting go of Jaemin could also mean letting go of the boy he once was. The soft music isn't enough to drown out the laughter from the kitchen. The new Jaemin flirts, compliments Donghyuck in every way, laughs loud and untamed.

Renjun hopes the new Jaemin isn't here to stay.

There are still no new messages from Mark. He replies to his mother, seething as he punches the keyboard. He says he's fine, that he's eaten lunch, that he's on top of all his work. That he misses her. Renjun can only think that he misses Jaemin. And Mark. She believes the lies, as always, and wishes him a good afternoon. She'd warned him of the risks of dating before turning eighteen. When he collected his soulmate dust and cried, she'd comforted him. Renjun still saw the flash of smugness in her smile.

He returns to his painting. He paints the heart black. Love may be red to Donghyuck, even the messy love conveyed by his fingerpainting, but Renjun gravitates towards his tube of black acrylic. It's on its last legs and his fingers tremble when he tries his hardest to squeeze enough out.

And when he sits at the back of his lecture that afternoon, the seats either side of him empty, he feels properly alone for the first time. He wonders if it's the same loneliness Mark was feeling.

𓆩♡𓆪

I sincerely apologise for bringing this angst on Jaemin's birthday... but irl I'm actually super super happy and excited right now because I got a job!!! And it's a job that won't take up loads of time but still pays well, so I'll still have time to write and dance and do the things I love ^^ How has your week been? I hope you're all doing amazing and that you have a relaxing/fun weekend ahead of you!