Jongho woke up to the whistling wind outside. He groped in the dark until he found his phone on the bedside table and switched it on, squinting at the blinding light of his screen as he checked the time. 7:16 am.
A chill ran up his spine. He wrapped his arms around himself instinctively, wanting to curl back under his sheets. The only reason he didn't was the fact that Yunho was next door, probably waiting for someone to wake him up.
Blinking to fight off the weariness, Jongho slid off his bed, put on the cardigan that was draped on the back of his desk chair, and went out into the freezing hallway.
He tried knocking lightly first, and when he heard no response on the other side, beat the wood with a bit more force. The noise sounded loud and intrusive in the quiet apartment, but there was still no sound from inside.
"Yunho?" He said, trying the doorknob now. He felt the slightest trace of warmth on the metal surface when he twisted it. That didn't really register as something important until he opened the door and saw the empty, unmade bed.
With a surge of urgency, Jongho pushed the door open the rest of the way, making it clang against the stopper on the floor. His eyes darted around in his sockets as he scanned his surroundings but the room was small and it didn't take long for him to realize that Yunho wasn't inside.
He searched the rest of the house hastily, knowing from the dread bubbling in his stomach that it was futile - there was no glow of lights, rushing of tap water, nor the sizzling of breakfast being made.
Returning to his room, he dialed Yunho's number with one hand and grabbed the winter coat from his closet with another, hurrying to the door while muttering a plea for the call to go through. He kept trying as he stuffed his feet into boots and exited his apartment, listening to the long electronic bleats until his ears had had enough and zoned it out as background noise.
Once the elevator stopped, he dashed out the doors and towards the security guard sitting behind a counter next to the mailboxes. The middle-aged man, still half-awake, jumped in his seat when Jongho slammed his hands on the counter surface and leaned in. "Have you seen a really tall man leave the building earlier this morning? He has black hair."
"Well, um..." The guard cleared his throat, clearly flustered. Then a spark of recognition crossed his tired face. "Yes, I did see someone like that around ten minutes ago. He's the only one who left. Everyone is sleeping in since it's Chris-"
"Thank you," Jongho blurted, already turning to glass doors that led outside.
A gust of icy wind and snow hit him as soon as he stepped out, but he ignored the cold seeping into his body and concentrated on his phone instead, trying to call Yunho again. The bleats stopped and it cut to voicemail. Jongho's heart sank.
Clumsily, he moved his already frozen body and lumbered through the inch-thick snow as fast as he could. There was only one place Yunho would go, and if the security guard was right, he couldn't have gone far. Jongho didn't know where Mingi lived, but he would figure that out later. First, he had to get out of his apartment complex-
A faint noise in the distance seized him. He stopped walking and twisted his body, trying to locate the source. It sounded like a shout, though it was muffled by the raging wind in his ears.
Then it came again, this time a bit louder. "...to me!"
The wind carried Jongho's hesitation away and brought unnerving trepidation in its place. He started trudging in the opposite direction he was going.
Above his head, the darkness of the night was retreating from the sky in preparation for the sun to rise. Twilight spilled out from the horizon, saturating the world. With a bit more color, Jongho started to see things stand out among the big blanket of white and grey snow.
The first thing that caught his eyes was a spot of black. And then it was the spot of blue right next to it.
Jongho broke into a run, almost falling as he stumbled over his boots. He managed to halt himself just a few steps away from the scene. Yunho and Mingi were there. There was a moment when his brain couldn't quite catch on to what he was seeing. Then he saw Mingi draw out a knife and he felt the blood drain out of his face.
Yunho! He wanted to shout, but horror had stolen his words away.
"You killed my father, I know you did. Admit it! Say that you killed him!" Mingi's shouts pierced through the air like the blade he was waving around dangerously next to Yunho's neck.
Yunho breathed in stale air. His legs were weak underneath and he had a feeling that Mingi's strong grasp on his coat was the only thing holding him up. "No, I didn't," he said as calmly as he could. He kept saying I killed his father, Yeosang had said. It was all just a misunderstanding. "Probably no one did. I know you're confused, and I'm actually planning to find San. He can explain every-"
He cut off abruptly. His eyes met Jongho's and they widened in surprise. Afraid he would give Jongho away, Yunho quickly switched his gaze back. Mingi had his back turned to Jongho; he was so masked in his fury that he hadn't noticed anything yet.
In that one second of exchange, Jongho saw the fear and sadness in Yunho's dark eyes. The sight made his blood boil. His numbed hands clenched into fists by his sides. He felt his body thaw, and the next moment he was moving again, with eyes fixed on Mingi.
"...explain everything," Yunho continued, picking up where he left off, trying to put some sense into Mingi's head. He felt like he was getting somewhere, seeing Mingi's cocked head and slightly glazed expression. "Once I know what's going on, I can help..." He trailed off again when he caught movement in his peripheral vision. Jongho, livid eyes burning with menace, was coming towards them with a threatening aura that could melt the snow around him.
Yunho frowned and shot a sharp gaze at his approaching friend. Mingi noticed the change in expression and began turning around slowly, hands tightening around Yunho's coat. The force pulled Yunho even closer to the knife but he couldn't care about that because Jongho wasn't getting his signals. He couldn't let Jongho aggravate Mingi when he was so close to placating him.
"Jongho!" Yunho yelled desperately, but it was all useless.
Jongho lunged forward and yanked harshly on Mingi's armed hand, tearing the two apart.
"Jongho, let go of him!" Yunho stared at the two in shock, too terrified to move. In a panic, he added, "Mingi, I know you're upset. But we're just trying to he-"
"He was trying to kill you for god's sake!" Jongho cried incredulously. He grunted as he tried to twist the knife out of Mingi's hand while blocking off attacks. "Call for help!"
"Fu*k! This is none of your business!" Mingi shouted at Jongho. "This is so annoying! I should've done it earlier so I wouldn't have to deal with this now. Run away now or I will kill you too!"
Paralyzed with fear, Yunho could only watch. Jongho was holding Mingi off for now, but Mingi was much taller, looming over him like a tower about to fall. Jongho wasn't going to last long.
"Did you hear me?! Yunho! Get a grip of yourself!"
Yunho heard him, loud and clear. And he knew he should get a grip of himself and run to the nearest lobby to find a security guard, or call the police, at the very least.
He heard Mingi's threats, saw the dangerous expression in his eyes, witnessed him doing the things he thought Mingi would never do. Mingi was even about to hurt his best friend right in front of him, but he just couldn't.
He couldn't imagine the police taking Mingi away as a criminal. Couldn't be afraid of Mingi. Couldn't get angry at him.
So when he saw Jongho's hand slip away from Mingi's wrist and stumble backward, falling toward the snow-covered floor, when he saw Mingi raise his freed arm with the knife in his hand, he broke out of his trance and ran to them, letting the sole emotion in his heart guide him.
"Wait, Yunho!"
Jongho's yells were just a faint drone in the back of Yunho's mind as he threw himself in front of Mingi, whose knife came hurtling down. Yunho saw the blade cut the fabric around his shoulder, but he barely registered the pain that shot up his arm and chest, nor the red liquid that flowed out from the spot and stained his clothes.
He paid no attention to those sensations and placed his hands on Mingi's shoulders, trying to anchor him in place. Miraculously, the element of surprise and what little height he had on Mingi worked, and Mingi stilled, confused arms hovering by his sides uselessly.
Jongho pushed himself off the ground, palms stinging and red from pressing against the snow. His heart clenched painfully when he saw the blood trickling down Yunho's shoulder and staining the whiteness around his feet, but he learnt his lesson and suppressed the overpowering urge to start another fight.
In the end, all he did, all he felt like he could do, was call for an ambulance and hope it wouldn't be needed.
"Mingi," Yunho began, voice surprisingly steady. He could feel the vibrations of his rib cage from his heart pounding in his chest, the sensation mingling with the buzzing of nerve impulses rushing to his limbs, screaming at him to run away from the danger right in front of his eyes.
Yet he stayed unmoving and looked up at Mingi. The layer of snow on his dark blue hair was like spumes of a wave as the strands ruffled in the violent wind. His plump lips were pale and cracked, as if the color had rushed up to his cheeks, where it was reddish from the cold and dry air. Above that were his eyes. His eyes, dark and intense with all his rage held inside.
But what Yunho really saw was the pair of brown, sharp-edged eyes, slightly downturned to give them a soft and gentle look. At some point Mingi had repositioned his knife again, but Yunho didn't care. He just stared at the eyes that once stared back lovingly.
"I opened my heart to you," said Yunho. "Actually, you helped me open it, by letting me know it's safe to let you see my true self. I felt your love, and I also let you hurt me multiple times."
Something flickered across Mingi's eyes. The hand holding the knife wavered almost imperceptibly. "What are you rambling on about?" he asked, but the words were hollow and without aggression. He almost sounded uncertain.
"I saw everything, and I know which one is the real you," Yunho continued, tears pooling in his eyes. "You're appreciative, grateful, and caring. The kindest, most considerate person I've ever met."
In the distance, the tip of sun broke through the horizon and the first ray of light shot across the sky like a yellow ribbon. The metal blade of Mingi's knife caught the light and glinted, blinding him momentarily.
As he rotated the hilt to angle it away from the sun, he caught a glimpse of his distorted reflection on the flat surface. He blinked and frowned, confused by something only he could see. Then, as if burned, he dropped the knife and stepped back. When he looked up at Yunho, his light brown pupils were trembling with guilt and devastation.
"What- what did I do? Why was I pointing a knife at you?" Mingi stared down at his shaking hands helplessly, his feet stumbling unsteadily on the snow as if he had lost his sense of balance.
Noticing the change, Yunho widened his eyes and ran to Mingi. He wrapped his arms around the perplexed man, sending a fresh stab of pain from his shoulder straight up to his brain. He winced but held on tight, refusing to let go.
The sun rose lazily up the sky, its powerful rays warming Yunho's backside. The snowstorm was finally receding, the wind no longer howling, the snow no longer swirling.
Yunho had no idea what was happening, but he felt Mingi's arms wrap slowly around his body and saw the snowflakes falling calmly around them, and at that moment, he thought it didn't really matter after all, whether he understood or not.
He remembered Jongho and twisted his neck.
His friend was standing behind them and though there was no smile on his lips, his eyes were soft with relief.