Don't Let Me Drown

Two - The Night Changes

"Hyunjin, did you just hear me?"

Chan's concern was laced in his voice as he stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fixating on the shattered mirror fragments scattered across the floor once more. His eyes slowly shifted to Hyunjin, his eyes just staring blankly back as he tried to think of every and any excuse to protect himself. Panic crept in the younger boy's throat, unable to formulate a lie that would change Chan's mind from what was in front of him.

"Hyunnie, what happened?" Chan tried again, looking for any kind of response.

Hyunjin's heart slammed in his chest as he met Chan's concerned gaze, the weight of his friend's worry striking a nerve he didn't know he still had in him.. He couldn't tell him the truth, it was a door he wanted to keep closed. So, he forced a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear casual despite the unease gnawing at him. "The mirror was falling, and I just tried to stop it with my hand," he muttered, his voice a careful mix of nonchalance and defensiveness.

Inside, his emotions were a tangled mess of guilt, embarrassment, and something foreign. He knew he liked it when Chan called him 'Hyunnie,' the nickname a soothing balm to his weary soul. But right now, he had to keep himself distant, emotionless. Letting anyone in to see how fractured he felt would push them away further. He watched as Chan's brows furrowed, his expression a mix of disbelief and questioning. He could feel Chan's gaze penetrating his defences, see right through the veneer he had constructed. A torrent of self-doubt surged within him—had he done enough to convince Chan, or was his secret poised to be exposed?

Seeing Chan move towards him, an instinctive flinch swept through Hyunjin. The prospect of exposure was a double-edged sword that triggered a raw vulnerability within him. He recoiled subtly, his body language betraying the turmoil he fought to keep hidden. He looked away for a moment, his attention landing on the scattered fragments of the mirror. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. With a lingering look, Chan turned and approached the broken mirror, leaving Hyunjin alone with his thoughts and the heavy weight of his secret.

"I can clean this up for you," Chan paused to look back at Hyunjin, "do you need my help?"

He didn't get a response, he barely did. The elder meticulously gathered the mirror fragments with a dustpan he had retrieved from Hyunjin's bathroom, Hyunjin's focus remained fixed on the unfolding scene. His emotions were a tempest of contradictions—gratitude for Chan's concern, embarrassment at the mess he had created, and an overwhelming desire to retreat further into his thoughts. His attention shifted momentarily from the mirror shards to the plate that had been left on the bathroom floor, desperately wanting to avoid explaining why it was there.

The silence in the room hung heavy, the tension stifling as Chan worked to clean up the mess. A sense of unease settled in Hyunjin's chest, a battle between wanting to open up and the fear of revealing too much. He chose silence, disattaching was easier than facing the consequences.Chan's movements were controlled, but the frustration beneath the surface was evident in the way he clenched his jaw.

"Hyunjin, please," Chan's voice was softer this time, tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Can you at least tell me what happened?"

Hyunjin's gaze remained distant, his focus seemingly fixed on the wall as if it held all the answers he was searching for. He could feel Chan's eyes on him, the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air. His throat felt tight, the words he wanted to say lodged within him like stones. His mind was shutting down, the intrusive thoughts returning with a vengeance, each one a reminder of his perceived shortcomings, his inadequacies.

Chan's voice, gentle yet persistent, cut through the torrent in his mind. "Hyunjin, please talk to me. I'm here to help."

But the words seemed to slip through the cracks in Hyunjin's defences, his heart racing as the thoughts intensified. He closed his eyes briefly, his grip on the edge of the bed tightening as if to anchor himself. The battle within him raged on—the urge to share his pain, his fear of burdening Chan with his struggles, and the overwhelming compulsion to protect the facade he had so carefully constructed.