Happy Neighbor | Gyuhao

It's November 2nd when Jeonghan's hug should've brought Minghao comfort, but all he felt was numbness.

He closed his eyes at the feeling of his friend's arms wrapped around him, caging him in his own mind. Jeonghan was amazing, truly, and he always cared for Minghao even when it didn't seem necessary.

"I can stay, Myungho. I'm here, you know that don't you?" Minghao felt Jeonghan's lips move near the crook of his neck where his friend's face squished in, and he let out a soft hum at the question. He felt the older's arms additionally tighten.

"I'm okay." But, no— No, Minghao wasn't okay. Not one bit.

He was anything but okay. What did 'okay' even mean at this point? He couldn't tell you. It seemed like he didn't even know how being 'okay' felt anymore.

Jeonghan held onto his friend for a little longer before pulling away. He frowned at the dull, beaten expression on Minghao face, jutting his bottom lip out. His heart clenched as he pushed the boy's hair from his eyes, "I'm only one call away, do you hear me?" Minghao knows Jeonghan's just trying to be sincere, but he couldn't help but feel like a loser at the tone in his friend's voice.

It made him feel even weaker than he already did.

Minghao just nodded, not finding it in himself to utter another word.

Jeonghan's frown deepened, "Call me whenever you want, okay? I'll be here faster than lighting." Minghao would usually chuckle at that dumb of a metaphor, but he couldn't even crack a smile. It felt like someone just shot loads and loads of botox into his face. He couldn't show any emotion.

Minghao watches his best friend leave after that, one last worried glance thrown his way before the front door of his house closed, leaving him no other than alone.

Minghao sat down on his couch, sinking deep into the cushions.

He closed his eyes as the sudden white noise ate at him, hands seeking out one of the pillows next to him for some type of comfort. He squeezed it tight, breathing in and out deeply as he kept it secure in his lap.

He bit his lip, practically drawing blood with how hard he clamped his jaw.

He felt his heart tearing from the inside out, the flash images of everything that went down just days ago shooting throughout his mind more times than one— more times than he ever wanted. He could barely bare it the first time, so why was he forced to relive the situation constantly?

Minghao squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, fisting the pillow.

The house was so empty now.

So quiet.

He wanted to scream no other than, why?! He wanted to yell and shout at whoever took his favorite person on the world away from him. He wanted to fly up into the heaven's clouds and search for that person. He wanted to hug them, even if it were just one last time.

He just wanted another chance to say goodbye. Properly.

The world wasn't fair.

And at that, for the first time in 8 days, Minghao cried.

❀ ❀ ❀

It was November 13th the day the water ran smoothly down the petals as Minghao tilted the sprinkler just right. He watched with a beat expression how the leaves near the dead end of the flower moved and jotted around the longer he poured.

It rained earlier, yet here Minghao was, watering his plants in the garden of his front yard as if it hadn't stormed minutes ago.

The flower he watered was pretty, but he didn't smile.