Chapter 16 - Fractured Pieces and Lingering Shadows

The days blurred into each other, each one dragging on heavier than the last. Hyunjin had perfected the art of pretending—his smiles never faltered, his voice never wavered, and his steps never hesitated. If anyone asked, he was fine. He had to be fine.

But the cracks were deepening, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up the facade.

Hyunjin arrived on campus earlier than usual, enjoying the quiet before the waves of students flooded the halls. He sat under a large oak tree near the main entrance, sipping his morning Herbal tea as he absentmindedly watched people trickle in.

A familiar presence settled beside him, and he turned to see Jisung staring at him with a frown.

"You don't look fine."

Hyunjin huffed a soft laugh. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to." Jisung leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms. "Your face is screaming I'm trying to be okay, but I'm not."

Hyunjin didn't respond right away. Instead, he took another sip of his coffee, letting the warmth seep into his fingers.

Jisung didn't push, just waited.

Finally, Hyunjin sighed. "You ever feel like you're slowly drowning, but everyone around you thinks you're just swimming?"

Jisung's gaze softened. "Yeah. More times than I'd like to admit."

Hyunjin hummed, his fingers tightening around his cup. "I think I'm getting really good at holding my breath."

Jisung exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "That's not something you should be good at."

Hyunjin offered a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Jisung stared at him for a moment before suddenly standing up and grabbing Hyunjin's wrist. "Alright, enough of this depressing talk. Let's go."

Hyunjin blinked up at him, confused. "Go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here. You need a distraction."

Hyunjin hesitated, but Jisung's grip was firm yet reassuring. He wasn't forcing him—he was offering him an escape.

And right now, that was exactly what he needed.

--

Jisung took him to a small café tucked away in a quiet street, far from the usual student crowds. It was cozy, with warm lighting and soft music playing in the background. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filled the air, instantly comforting.

They found a corner booth, and Jisung ordered for both of them.

When the food arrived, Jisung slid a plate of strawberry waffles in front of Hyunjin. "Eat. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in days."

Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it when Jisung gave him a pointed look.

With a small sigh, he picked up his fork.

They ate in silence for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

At some point, Jisung started talking about his classes, his professors, and the latest drama within their year. Hyunjin listened, nodding occasionally, grateful for the normalcy.

"Felix keeps trying to convince me to join his baking adventures," Jisung said between bites. "But I told him I'd only help if I get to be the official taste tester."

Hyunjin chuckled. "That sounds like a fair deal."

Jisung grinned. "Exactly! But he says I need to 'earn my title.'" He rolled his eyes. "I told him I was born with the gift of appreciating food. It's a natural talent."

Hyunjin let out a genuine laugh, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."

"But I made you laugh," Jisung pointed out with a satisfied smirk.

Hyunjin paused, his smile softening. "Yeah. You did."

Jisung nudged his foot under the table. "That's my superpower."

For the first time in a while, Hyunjin felt just a little bit lighter.

--

By the time Hyunjin returned home later that evening, the warmth of the day had faded, replaced by the suffocating weight of reality.

As he stepped into the house, he was immediately met with the sight of Minho sitting on the couch, his phone in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

His gaze flickered to Hyunjin before narrowing. "Where were you?"

Hyunjin set his bag down, keeping his voice even. "Out."

"With who?"

Hyunjin hesitated for half a second. "Jisung."

Minho scoffed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Right. So now you're parading around with another guy, too?"

Hyunjin's brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

Minho leaned back against the couch, crossing his legs. "First Chan, now Jisung? You really do get around, huh?"

Hyunjin felt his patience thinning, but he refused to rise to the bait. "Jisung is my friend."

Minho let out a cold laugh. "Sure. And I bet Chan was just 'helping you with groceries,' right?"

Hyunjin's hands clenched at his sides. "You don't get to accuse me of anything when you're the one bringing your boyfriend into our house."

Minho's eyes darkened. "Watch your mouth."

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm. "Why do you even care? You don't love me. You don't even like me. So why does it bother you?"

Minho stood up then, closing the distance between them in two steps and slap him. "Because you're my problem, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin flinched, but he didn't back down. "I never wanted to be."

Minho stared at him, something unreadable flickering in his expression. But instead of responding, he scoffed and turned away, downing the rest of his drink before storming off to his room.

Hyunjin stood there, his body tense, his heart aching in a way he couldn't quite explain.

He should be used to this by now.

But it still hurt.

--

That night, as Hyunjin lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he thought about Jisung's words earlier.

"You don't have to keep holding your breath."

But what choice did he have?

If he stopped pretending, if he let himself break—then what?

No, he had to keep going.

Even if he was drowning, he had to keep swimming.

Because right now, that was the only thing keeping him afloat.