The mental image of Mark's face follows Renjun back to his bedroom, where he slouches over his sketchbook, eyebrows sunken with apprehension and with his new despisal for art. Another pencil falls victim to his frustrations, and the wood splinters, the break far from neat as the tension shoots through Renjun's knuckles and dissolves away when the two halves drop from his fingers. He rubs his temples. All he's managed is a few more annotations of paintings that aren't even his own. Of paintings he wishes were his own. A few pointless sentences that will likely go unnoticed and will certainly score him no marks. He digs his nails into his scalp, draws ragged circles across his skin, bites his lips to silence the complaints of his stomach. The afternoon has set in by now, made itself comfortable with a clear sky, and Renjun is long due a meal, the pasta not satisfying enough to cover both lunch and his missed breakfast. He'll eat once he's completed a spread of sketches, he decides at two. Then again at three. And by four o'clock, Jaemin's knocking on his door, nudging it open to poke his head in the room.

"Go away," Renjun mutters, without lifting his head from his hands. He presses his palms into his eyes until they ache and his brain turns fuzzy. He hears the unmistakeable shuffle of Jaemin's bunny slippers on the thinning carpet, and as the younger approaches, his heart clenches, beating fast and sending a deep longing through his chest.

"Nope," Jaemin replies. Renjun sniffs at Jaemin's defiance, then keeps his eyes shut when he squeezes a rubber between his hands like a stress toy. It's cold, and years' worth of unsatisfactory drawings smear across his fingers, the pencil lead turning his skin grey.

"Please?" Renjun looks over his shoulder now. Jaemin perches on the end of his bed, legs crossed, arms folded, eyes wide with determination, and Renjun's glare softens under the control of approaching tears.

He sniffs again and knows there's no use in fighting the nail hammered through his skull, or the tremor in his fingers, or the way Jaemin's gaze drops to the soulmate dust glowing yellow against his grey oversized jumper. Renjun lets a tear roll down his cheek. He blinks slowly as a second follows, pulling his knees to his chest and tipping his head back as though that would help him breathe through the rock in his throat, when in fact it only makes him vulnerable to more emotions, each tear glistening with the next fear that comes to mind.

Jaemin doesn't mention the dust. Instead, he beckons Renjun over and embraces him. Renjun sinks into the hold like he's done hundreds of times, but now he doesn't quite rest his cheek on Jaemin's shoulder, or wrap his arms around the younger's waist, scared to admit how well they slot together. Jaemin doesn't mention that either.

"Wanna talk?" Jaemin asks, voice sweet enough for Renjun to sob, finally surrendering.

He tells Jaemin about artist's block, the black canvas in his mind, a canvas so empty, a mess of dark thoughts and emotions that spits and bubbles and snarls, never allowing anything to reach paper. Then his soulmate dust. Jaemin pulls away a little to look, but hugs Renjun tighter a moment later as though just as afraid to admit the reality. Renjun cries in his arms. Something about Jaemin has always settled his heart. The younger studied his mood swings over the time they were together and is skilled in wordlessly calming any storm, fingers tapping a soft rhythm into the elder's back or playing with his hair.

Renjun's heart is far from settled this time. He gasps when it cramps again, pain searing his insides until fresh tears sting his eyes, and he digs his nails into Jaemin's shirt with a broken wail. Maybe if he clings on, their dusts will be compatible. Maybe they can force their way into each other's hearts. Renjun's yellow and Jaemin's pink could have blended into an orange as gentle as the younger's thumb when he wipes the tears away. An orange as bright as their smiles when they used to chase each other to the ice cream van after a long day of school. An orange as warm, yet as clashing, as the sunrise where they clung onto each other just a week into their lives at university. It was the last time they'd share a bed, both scared to kiss each other for the last time under the glare of Jaemin's pink soulmate dust, set alight by Donghyuck's blue.

"What even is the world through my eyes? How do I view the world? I don't fucking know," Renjun says, words distorted by tears and muffled by Jaemin's shoulder when he gives in, allowing himself to return home once again, the urge always too strong to deny.

One last time. One last time. It happens every week.

Jaemin clings on just as tight. He hugs Renjun as though afraid he might melt away to nothing, slip through his fingers as though never there, and the tremble of his voice when he replies has Renjun crying harder still. "The world is so unfair."

"I hate it," Renjun says through gritted teeth. "I hate it."

"Hate is a strong word."

"But I do." Renjun's shoulders shake with each sob, and Jaemin rocks him like he used to do after a nightmare, after a bad grade, before any chances of staying together got torn to shreds.

Everything is before and used to and when they were a thing. Jaemin likes to pretend he doesn't hate anything, that he's incapable of disliking anything, but Renjun knows him well enough to sense the anger in the fingertips that trace the line of his jaw, and to notice the sadness in the eyes that rove over his face in search of an answer, an opportunity, another chance. But they don't have another chance together.

"I'm sure Mark is a lovely guy," Jaemin says, and he pulls away. Renjun lets him go, their limbs untangling until they're sat a foot apart, side by side, neither daring to look at the other.

"How are your classes going?" Renjun asks. Small talk is another thing he hates, but the silence that used to be so comfortable grows thick while he wipes his eyes on his sleeves and rummages through his top drawer for a packet of tissues.

"Don't change the subject," Jaemin replies. Renjun turns round to stare, just in time to catch the quiver of Jaemin's gaze. They both sigh.

"You have the most work out of everyone. I can't complain over not being able to draw a stupid little drawing when you're a literal med student." Renjun tosses the used tissue in the bin. He misses, but doesn't fetch it, letting it join the ring of snack wrappers and scraps of paper from all his other failed throws.

"I chose that," Jaemin shrugs. "You have every right to rant about how shit you're finding your course."

"It's not the course, though." Jaemin raises an eyebrow, and Renjun folds the dog-eared corner of his sketchbook, sitting at his desk once more. "It's just... just... everything." His voice cracks, but Jaemin doesn't laugh. He simply hums in understanding and gives Renjun time to bury his face in his hands again.

The elder inhales, cringes at the lump in his throat and itch of his nose, then decides he should wash his face to get rid of the crust of dried tears. Splashing cold water across his skin, he stares at himself in the mirror. He tucks his soulmate necklace under his jumper, but not before giving it a tug, which only shocks his heart again. His heart throbs when he returns to his bedroom and sees Jaemin hasn't moved from his bed. The harder he tries to force it, the more damage he'll do. He knows that hearts become vulnerable in the period between finding their soulmate and bonding. That it explains the pain in his chest when he rests his head on Jaemin's chest. But it doesn't stop him from doing it.

Jaemin pokes his cheek and pushes him gently to sit upright. "Donghyuck's on his way back. He's got food."

Renjun nods, a single beat of forced acknowledgement, and scratches the palm of his hand. "So... does that mean I have to move?" Jaemin inhales with a nod, then makes the choice for him by leaving the room. Renjun doesn't even get a chance to override the palpitations of his heart that beg him to stay curled up in his ex's arms.

Donghyuck arrives in a cloud of flamboyancy, as always, with his leather jacket and plethora of rings and glitter on his eyelids, and he sings a greeting while he unpacks the boxes of food in the living room. "Where's Min?"

"In his room," Renjun says with a shrug as he appears in the doorway, nose crinkled to inspect the situation and decide if the food is worth spending time sat opposite the couple.

There's always been a certain tension between Renjun and Donghyuck. They've stayed up chatting until the early hours of the morning, they've called each other during holidays, even exchanged expensive birthday gifts, and yet lacing each kind gesture together is a rather heavy elephant in the room. Renjun knows Donghyuck knows about his past with Jaemin, but Donghyuck has never mentioned it, so neither has Renjun. And while Donghyuck seems all too enamoured with Jaemin whenever they're together, it didn't take long for Renjun to notice the glances in his direction, as though Donghyuck expects him to be mad at him, or for him to snap or leave at any point. Renjun has never done that. He wants to at least get on with Donghyuck for Jaemin's sake, if nothing else.

"Are you gonna eat with us?" Donghyuck asks, although he disappears into the kitchen for a cup of water before Renjun can answer.

Renjun sinks onto the sofa. The purple of Donghyuck's soulmate dust burns his eyes when he shuts them, head against an old hello kitty plush no one claims to be the owner of, and he considers skipping dinner, no longer quite so hungry after the reminder of the new upgrade to the soulmate's relationship.

The bond is visible in Donghyuck's eyes when Jaemin emerges from his room. It takes the shape of pure excitement, of bouncing feet and flapping hands, and fills his pupils with awe, as though reduced to a mere puppet by Jaemin's presence. Renjun bites a scornful laugh. "Minnie! How are you, hm? What would you like to eat? You can take first dibs," Donghyuck says, crossing the room in a flash to pull his boyfriend onto the carpet and smother his cheeks with kisses.

"I'm alright," Jaemin croaks. He struggles free from Donghyuck's grip, laughing it off and patting his hair back down with a grin, but Renjun doesn't need to examine it hard to spot the discomfort in the expression. The unfocussed gaze. The dull of his eyes, and the way he seeks space from Donghyuck by moving to sit on the other side of the food, claiming he wants the plain rice as an excuse just because it's the furthest away.

Oblivious, Donghyuck chatters about his plans for their next date, and about how they need to announce their bond to their parents. Renjun bites his lip to tame his frustration. He's mad that Donghyuck seems incapable of reading Jaemin's body language. Knowing Jaemin won't say anything from fear of upsetting Donghyuck only irks him further. Jeno told him it's not his relationship to meddle with, but as he sits on the sofa and nibbles on a spring roll, sentenced to watching Donghyuck kiss Jaemin's cheek a hundred times and being on the receiving end of Jaemin's anxious grimaces, Renjun swears his silence won't last long.

"Did you make any progress today?" Donghyuck asks, and it takes a moment for Renjun to stop glaring and realise the question was directed at him, in reference to his art project.

He sits up, clears his throat, and blinks a few times to calm his expression back down to a neutral gaze, but the slight frown on Donghyuck's features tells him he wasn't quick enough. "No," Renjun says anyway.

"I'm sure you will very soon. The best art takes time. I'm sure there's some expression about that," Donghyuck says, cheery as ever, but Renjun's nod is stiff in return.

When the universe feeds him countless reasons to hate Donghyuck, it's a skill to not interpret his every move as a punch in the gut, a kick of spite, an act of humiliation to tease him in front of Jaemin.

"Leave him be," Jaemin interjects. His voice is pinched, tense and high.

Donghyuck whips his head in his boyfriend's direction, who stares at his bowl of food with an arched back and a weak frown although Renjun bets he hasn't eaten all day, and protests that he didn't do anything wrong. Jaemin simply shakes his head. Donghyuck turns back to Renjun.

"Thank you for the encouragement," Renjun says. He manages a smile, and by the time Donghyuck scrunches his nose, clearly lost as he flicks his eyes between the other two, he realises he's not faking the smile, rather wearing it out of pity. He has to remind himself it's not Donghyuck's fault the universe decided to pair him with Jaemin. It's not his fault Jaemin won't talk to him about his real feelings and struggles. Although Renjun would argue it partly is, since it's glaringly obvious all the affection overwhelms the younger. He wonders how they even got as far as bonding, but doesn't get very far before he feels ill.

The room goes quiet, save for the click of their chopsticks and the constant drone of car engines on the street outside. When Donghyuck reassures them there's no need to pay him back for the food, an attempt to brighten the mood and keep conversation flowing, Renjun's stomach twists from the guilt of not yet finding a job, yet his head welcomes relief because he knows he wouldn't manage three meals a day without his dormmates chipping in so they can eat together. He meets Donghyuck's eyes. He makes a point of darting his own in Jaemin's direction, trying to get him to notice the clench in the youngest's jaw and shoulders, but Donghyuck only pulls him closer, arm around his waist as he smiles at Renjun and moves on without thinking twice.

"Jaemin? You good?" Renjun checks up on him instead.

"Yeah, just tired. Sorry," Jaemin says, forces another laugh, and shuffles on the floor to cross his legs the other way and attempt to get Donghyuck to let him go. Which he doesn't. Jaemin widens his eyes at Renjun, visibly swallows as he begs him for help, unable to tell his boyfriend about his need for personal space.

Renjun wonders what it must feel like to be bonded with his soulmate, to have his heart so deeply intertwined with someone else's, but to have his head still trying to creep back to the safety of familiar ground. He wonders if it hurts like it does for him when he thinks of Mark. He fears what Jaemin is forcing himself to suffer through by not letting go.

Chasing the final grain of rice around his bowl, Renjun realises he might want Jaemin to let go and move on. He doesn't want him to suffer, but to grow comfortable with Donghyuck, and to trust Donghyuck like he trusts Renjun.

And he's just about to say something, perhaps conjure a joke about jealousy that could at least get Donghyuck to release Jaemin, when Chenle bounds in, slamming the front door hard enough to shock Donghyuck and do the job for him.

"Okay, first of all, why are you eating without me?" Chenle demands, dumping his coat on the floor in the hallway and then his stack of piano repertoire on the empty sofa. "And second, I've collected information about Mark."

Renjun blinks in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. This Mark guy, I've got his number, address, his brother's name, his hometown, his flatmate's name and number, and the name of his childhood goldfish."

"Chenle, what the fuck?" Renjun blinks again, yet still meets Chenle's devilish grin, and he grunts in confusion when the younger shoves a slip of paper to his chest.

"Now go text him," Chenle says, before dropping to the floor besides Jaemin and helping himself to some food.

"Who's Mark?" Donghyuck asks, tentative.

"Renjun's soulmate," Chenle replies.

Renjun drops the paper to his lap and taps the bottle hanging from his neck. Donghyuck's eyes blow wide, lips parted in shock, for once at a loss for words. He'd been so wrapped up with Jaemin that he'd missed the change. Then, his eyes spark with joy and he claps his hands in delight as he congratulates Renjun on the news. His animation darkens Jaemin's silence and twists the sadness of his eyes into a flurry of anger that snatches Renjun's breath for a second, until it dies away in time with the slouch of his shoulders, the boy deflating with no energy to waste on emotions towards the situation.

"Are you gonna text him?" Chenle insists.

Renjun looks at the string of digits on the paper. All the other details are listed, as promised, but Mark's number is circled at the top, and Renjun is about to ask where Chenle even got all the information from before deciding he maybe doesn't want to know.

Renjun wants Jaemin to move on. But he doesn't feel ready to make the move himself. Not when Jamein stares at him with such emptiness in his eyes, as though he'll tear up at the slightest sign of betrayal.

"I'll think about it," Renjun decides, before thanking Chenle and returning to his room to pin the paper to his wall and stare at it all evening.

𓆩♡𓆪

Wow it's been so long... thank you so much for being patient! I had so much fun on holiday but I've brought the c word back with me :< currently lying in bed and pushing through since we're out of paracetamol and the dizziness is horrible :( buuut I'm proud of myself for editing this and being able to still publish it makes me smile! I hope you're all looking after yourselves and that you're all well and happy ♥