My Soulmates are IDOLS 1 | Limelight🎇| 18+ [Reverse Harem]

103:Hurry Up

The condominium suddenly felt too dark, too wide, and too spacious. Ezra wrapped his fingers around his arms, rubbing them as he stared into the darkness. He was alone.

He inhaled sharply, the rush of fear strong in his mind. There was the buzz of something over his skin as if someone were pricking him over and over again a million times. Then the rush of coldness as if he were dunked in ice again and again. Fear. He shook, closing his eyes as he hugged his body tightly to himself.

He had forgotten the reason why he had always wanted to room with someone. The trauma had been so long ago, that he would forget it sometimes now that he was happy. He would pick someone loud as his roommate, someone who talked too much. He roomed with them even though he hated the sound of people talking when he worked because it messed with his own thoughts.

He couldn't think without the quiet but in the absolute quiet he thought too much and suddenly those monsters became too real. They fed on him, growing like fire with oxygen and fuel.

He was panting. His eyes were wide as his heart quickened in his chest. It was cold, too cold. Why was it so cold? So, so cold. It felt—He ran, darting for his phone. It lay discarded on the floor. A crack tearing across its surface from the fall. He reached for his phone, tumbling as he moved, keying in that one number without a second thought—

"Hello?" The voice was mellifluous, a little husky and a little gruff from sleep. It was sweet and soft, gentle like cotton candy fluff. "Hello? Ezra? Ezra?"

The voice repeated his name and he could not help but let the whimper escape his lips as he sat huddled on the cold floor as tears dripped from his eyes. His nose was stuffy with snot as tears soaked the corners of his clothes.

"M-minjae," he mumbled out, his voice bled with his fear. "Minjae."

The sound of that name on his lips pulled an emotion from his chest that surged and spun in his head. It broke the last barrier that he had held against those feelings. It broke everything.

"I can't—" His voice trembled, cracking as he spoke. "I can't."

"Hang on." The firmness in MinJae's voice was clear. "I'll be there in a bit. Our place?"

Ezra didn't respond, quiet as he breathed. Each inhale was shaky and painfully loud. It was hard to breathe because something within him seemed to clamp up whenever he tried.

"Stay on the line? Stay."

His best friend's voice was pretty. It had always been and it always would be. A smile stretched across his lips. He snorted, rubbing his cheeks. He felt small, young. Tiny. Alone. So alone. He was breathing. Was he breathing? It took so much effort to inhale and exhale. Breathing, surviving, living—

The door clicked open and he raised his head to the click of the lights. MinJae stood before him, his hair a mess of curls, a bedhead that stood out like a sore thumb. He panted, a hand propped on the wall. He appeared as if he had run miles to get here, sweat beading on his skin despite the cold temperature.

Even now in his unprepared, sleep swollen state, his best friend looked beautiful swathed in the glow of the moon. His droopy eyes were wide with his concern, tipped at the edges with lush lashes. His lips, plump juicy mounds of meat, were permanently stained a brilliant red from the cold.

Dressed in those skin-tight leather pants that accentuated the curve of his ass and a denim jacket draped over his pyjama top, he somehow managed to pull off a flawless look without the added makeup and glitter. He had always been, and he always would be the most beautiful of men.