The tension in the air was thick. You could feel it weighing down on your body, like an invisible force pinning you in your seat.
You were riding shotgun in Chanyeol's car, on the way to his place. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands on the steering wheel, and his mouth shut. He hasn't said a word since you left school together.
Something bad must have happened.
Chanyeol was rarely this quiet, even at times when his mood was not the best. He would always find a way to talk about something, anything, even if he didn't want to. He wasn't one to ruin the mood—he usually creates the mood, but there he was, his lips pressed into a thin line, his usually bright face covered in a frown. He was taking deep breaths through his nose as if he was preventing himself from combusting.
You haven't seen him this angry.
As you arrived in his unit, the atmosphere sort of cooled down. He still hadn't said a word, but he looked more composed than he did while driving.
"Which topic do you want to work on for our second synthesis paper?" You cautiously asked, careful not to raise your tone. The brightest people were usually the ones who were the most scary when they were angry, and you didn't want to push Chanyeol to the edge even if you weren't sure what he was mad about.
About a week ago, Mr. Lee, your philosophy professor, grouped the class into pairs to work on a synthesis paper. He assigned another write up for this week, so you and Chanyeol had to work together again. You mutually agreed to do the paper at his place.
Seeing Chanyeol like this, however, made you want to run straight for the door.
"How about writing a paper on knowing the truth and respect for persons?" He suggested. His tone was heavy with sarcasm.
You know what he was mad about.
Your lips were trembling. Your eyes stung, threatening to spill tears. Your hands began fidgeting on the hem of your sweater. A cold wave washed through your entire body.
How did he know?
"Yeol."
Chanyeol looked at you. His eyes were red like he was about to cry. His fists were balled up at his sides. He was mad, all right. He was mad at you.
"You really didn't expect Sehun to keep quiet about it, did you?"
You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. You wanted to magically disappear into thin air. You wanted to melt into your clothes instead of having to face the big fat mess in front of you. You wanted to leave.
But you saw this coming.
You knew this would happen the moment you let Sehun kiss you. You knew the consequences of spending the night at his place, but you still did it anyway.
If there was an award for the dumbest piece of shit in the world, you've won it.
You saw this coming, and even though you wanted to burst into tears and start apologizing to Chanyeol, you knew what you had to do. This was what you had wanted to happen anyway, it only happened sooner than you expected.
You swallowed back your emotions.
"Why are you so pressed about it?"
Chanyeol smiled—the sick kind of smile a person did when they were so tired of everything; a defeated smile. Tears started rolling down his cheeks.
"Jesus fucking Christ, let me think about it," he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands like he wanted to pull it off. "I guess it's because I'm not really a big fan of sharing the girl I'm seeing with one of my friends."
He didn't shout. He conversed like he did normally, except that you could feel the weight of his words; they were heavy with pain. It would've been better if he just yelled at you. It would've hurt less.
"Is that what you think we are? We're seeing each other?"
You tried your best to sound like a bitch. You didn't want to hurt Chanyeol, but this was the only way for things not to get any worse than they already are.
Chanyeol laughed as he pulled at his hair with both of his hands. He then turned around and punched the wall.
You flinched when you heard his knuckles breaking at the impact. His right hand was now cut open and bleeding. Red marks stained the wall.
He didn't even recoil at the pain. You doubted that he was feeling anything right now aside from anger and possibly disgust—at you, at Sehun, at everything.
You rushed to grab his hand, but he slapped your arm away.
"Don't touch me."
Your heart was already sunken, but when you heard those words from him, it dropped at your feet. Pain spread in your chest as if you were shot by a poison arrow. Your blood felt like acid. You wanted to faint.
It's what you deserve, your subconscious told you. This is what you get for playing a game that you know you wouldn't win.
"You knew from the start what this was, Yeol. I fucking told you. I said that we're not in that kind of relationship."
The blood from his hand dripped onto the carpet. You wanted to stop his bleeding. You wanted to take care of him. You wanted to rush into the bathroom and grab the first aid kit, but Chanyeol's words rang in your ear: Don't touch me. So you held yourself back.
Your eyes were pouring now, but you forced yourself to maintain a neutral expression. This was the right thing to do. You were doing this for Chanyeol. You had to save him from yourself.
Chanyeol sat down on the couch, his bad hand resting limply on his lap. His stare burned through you as if they were asking for an explanation. You wanted to tell him that it was better this way; it was better that the two of you end whatever you were doing right now before it got deeper. You couldn't let an amazing person like him waste any more of his time on someone like you, someone selfish and disgusting.
"Yeah, you told me those things," Chanyeol nodded. "But I forgot them every time you looked at me with those fucking eyes that gleamed like you needed me. I forgot about them every time you had your arm wrapped around mine. I forgot them every single time you come to my place and kiss me like your life depended on it. So let me fucking ask you: what do you think we are?"
"I don't know, Yeol!" You screamed. "I don't know, okay? I have no fucking idea what we are because we're just friends and you're acting like we're more than that!"
It was true, to some extent.
You and Chanyeol were friends, and the way he was acting right now seemed like he was expecting that the two of you were more than that. But what you didn't tell him was that you felt the same way.
The gleam that he saw in your eyes was real—you did need him. You needed his warmth, you needed his chest and his arms to make you feel safe, you needed his voice to reel you back into reality whenever you spaced out. You needed him, but you couldn't say that to his face. You needed him, but you didn't deserve him. What he needed was someone better than you, someone whose feelings weren't a mess, and someone who was ready to commit to him without the nagging fear in the back of their head saying that they weren't good enough.
You needed him, but you were going to destroy him. And he didn't need you to do that.
The bracelet that he had given you for Christmas felt like a thousand tons hanging on your wrist.
You assured yourself this was the right thing to do. You dragged it on for way too long. It's about time you ended it.
Chanyeol was still staring at you, his eyes bloodshot. His eyes were leaking.
"Friends don't do this shit to each other," he whispered. "They don't fuck each other. They don't kiss each other the same way couples do. They don't flirt with each other. They don't do shit like that, so don't fucking pull that with me."
You sighed. You didn't have anything else to say to him. To be fair, he was right. The relationship the two of you shared couldn't be oversimplified into friendship.
But you warned him. You told him that night when you stumbled into his room drunk and wanting to have sex but he turned you down. You warned him not to get carried away before you fell asleep while he sang your favorite song. You told him.
"I told you not to fall for me, Yeol," you said, your voice coming out like a whisper.
Chanyeol let out a mocking laugh and the sound reverberated on the walls of your heart, leaving cracks in its wake.
"Then I'm sorry for still falling in love with you," he said as he wiped his tears away with the cuffs of his jacket. "You're not that hard to love, honestly. I just wish that you stop putting yourself down and start letting people in."
You headed towards the door.
When you left Chanyeol's unit, Baekhyun was waiting right outside the door.
He was leaning against the wall. His hair was a mess and his clothes were crumpled. His lips were swollen and he had questionable marks on his neck.
It was obvious that he went to see Chanyeol's neighbor again. It was almost funny. Almost. You would've laughed if your heart wasn't breaking in your chest.
"Sis," Baekhyun said softly. "I heard yelling and... Are you okay?"
You shook your head as you sank into Baekhyun's chest. His arms wrapped around you and every emotion you held back inside Chanyeol's place started pouring out of your body.
You cried and you didn't care who heard you. All you know is that if felt good letting out your pain in your brother's embrace.
"It's okay. You're okay," Baekhyun whispered against your ear as he soothed your hair. "Let's go home, okay?"
You nodded, and the two of you headed to the elevators with your brother's arm draped around your shoulder.