You Try (Even when the world doesn't want you to|| WayV Lucas Angst

Home?

It's odd.

It's frightening.

He doesn't say anything. Let the other boy glare and fist his hands and...stand up and leave, slamming the door the same way Kunhang does. Xuxi is left sitting there with crumpled sheets and racing thoughts and he can't help but feel scared at the prospect of the members being truly, really angry with him. Even when he knows he deserves it.

For all, he knows it is his fault that he isn't doing better. If only he'd put a bit more effort into eating the food the members have placed in front of him time and time again. Or maybe if he'd worked harder on therapy, maybe if he hadn't forgotten to take his medication, maybe if he talked more, maybe if he stopped using the stupid tube so much.

The whole situation was filled with 'maybes' and...maybe he just wasn't meant to get better.

It's a stupid thought, he knows. Because if it wasn't for the tiny, small steps he's achieved in recovery then he'd probably be dead. That statement, in return, poses a question in Xuxi's muddled mind: would that really be that bad?

Would the pain in his arms and the pins and needles on his legs stopping be terrible? Or the growth of stupid peach-like hair on his body? Or the depression and anxiety, the constant buzzing in his brain and the endless pain in his head? Would it? Xuxi doesn't think so.

The white scars on his wrists don't think so either.

A slamming door at the end of the corridor stops his musing in its tracks, yanking him from the rabbit hole his brain had decided to dive into.

His fingers play with the white on his arm, rubbing up and down, from side to side feeling the difference in skin. It helps, he guesses, with the fog surrounding his brain. As a distraction from the pulsing in his head and the sound of the pump getting liquid into his stomach. It doesn't work quite as efficiently in quieting the footsteps rushing to the living room.

It's Xiaojun, he recognises, if only for the way his voice carries to his door when he screams at Sicheng. And Xuxi should probably go out and investigate, soothe the members before a fight like the one last week happens but his legs feel kind of numb and his joints hurt and...and he just wants to stay in bed. Sleep perhaps. Forget. Ignore.

He doesn't, of course, because their voices carry throughout the house with a strength Xuxi didn't know was possible and he's forced to listen as Xiaojun says: "It's not his fucking fault! What can't you understand?!"

Then there's quiet, more footsteps -likely from Kun- and the front door opens and closes with a bang.

"Of course. Of fucking course! Why the hell are you leaving?!" he hears Xiaojun scream at the now presumably empty space. There's a wetness to his voice, like the shards of his broken heart cut his throat, or maybe that was Xuxi's sob escaping his mouth.

He can hear Xiaojun crying now. He can hear Kun's voice and he can't possibly understand what he's saying to the other boy but it's whispered in such a tender voice, with such care Xuxi is almost compelled to open his door. If only to listen to the comfort being spewed by the older boy.

He doesn't, of course, because he doesn't want to ruin anything else. He's done enough.

There has been a thin blanket of tension since his little adventure through Seoul. It started with Kun not answering his phone, with Kunhang not calling. It ended with - to put it simply - Kunhang losing his shit.

There were screams and tears and "Why the fuck do you have a phone if you're not going to answer huh?!"...and blaming. Because "You should've called sooner!". And "you think this is some fucking joke or what?"