Chapter 16: Fault

JUNWON'S eyes fluttered open, his head and his entire body aching with pain. His vision focused and he found himself staring at the empty sight of the living room, the television in the middle of the room, hanging by the wall in its usual place. A few armchairs and a couch caught his sight, to which he could assume that he had unknowingly fallen asleep on the large couch for God knew how long.

He took a blurry glance at the quiet, peaceful area around him, trying his best to ignore the growing pain in his stomach and the dull ache in his muscles. His body was almost paralyzed, exactly like the few days before, if not worse. The inability to move caused an overwhelming sensation inside his body.

And despite how exhausted he was, only one question wandered through his mind.

What woke him up?

His head raised itself and tilted slightly to check his surroundings. His blurry vision could barely catch anything under the sunlight seeping through the room. A small, soft groan escaped his mouth, a wave of strong pain rushing through his body.

CLANK!

A loud noise erupted through the kitchen, causing him to flinch, his body jumping slightly in its place.

"N-Noona?" His voice came out shaky, inaudible, and most of all, broken.

The events of the night before came flooding back. The image of his group members mentioning a fellow trainee to manipulate his lover. The image of his lover looking at him in betrayal before hurrying out of the house. The sensation of heartbreak crossed his insides, and he was balanced between tears once again. He hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that his lover was ready to listen and forgive him.

Not that he cheated in the first place. He would never.

Never in a million years.

Why would he, anyway?

His group members managed to set up a fight between him and the love of his life, but what they didn't know was how in love he was with Mal.

Unlike anyone else he crossed paths with, Mal was the one who took care of him, loved him, and adored him. He looked up to her. He appreciated her. He loved her with all of his heart.

It was in no way negotiable.

And he wasn't in the mood to fight with her. Never in the mood.

"You dummy, I think you woke him up!" A whisper escaped from the kitchen, causing Junwon's ears to perk up. His heart began beating fast between his ribs, his eyes widening in shock as he realized something terrifying.

That it was a male voice.

"Go check on him while I clean up this mess." Another male voice whispered, followed by the familiar shuffling of footsteps erupting from the kitchen, getting louder with each moment until the shuffling stopped by the foot of the couch he was sleeping on.

"Junwon?" A familiar voice began, and the noise of cracking knuckles soon followed. "Are you awake?"

The figure stepped closer to the couch, and with that, Junwon could finally take a look at the person in front of him.

The familiar deep, brown eyes that matched the long, soft chocolate-brown hair. The pale skin, and the handsome face that had everyone falling for.

"S-Santa hyung?"

Santa's expression was hidden behind a fake smile. He clutched his knuckles and bent over slightly to meet eyes with Junwon, and it was only then that he could see the endless sea of masked heartbreak.

"W-What's wrong?" Junwon's shaky voice made Santa shake his head, tears filling his eyes. "Where's noona?"

Santa's face dropped at the mention of his best friend. He took a small step back, the back of his knees hitting the coffee table behind him.

"Um..."

His hesitation made Junwon's heart drop to his stomach.

"Where's noona, hyung?"

Santa bit his lower lip in distress before parting them open once again to speak. "She's in the hospital, Junwon... I'm really sorry."

Tears found their way down Junwon's pale cheeks. He made a weak attempt to swallow his saliva before glancing at Santa once again, all while trying to ignore the noise of his heart shattering.

"W-Why is she in the hospital?" He questioned, more tears streaming down his face.

Santa bit his lower lip and avoided eye contact with his younger friend, briefly looking away as if it would help ease the tension.

"She was, um," he hesitated once again, trying to think of a better word to phrase his sentence, "attacked."

Junwon's face dropped, and his confused expression was replaced with one of extreme heartbreak and guilt. "W-What?"

CLANK!

Another noise erupted from the kitchen, causing both of the young men to flinch. Junwon grimaced at the loud noise before closing his eyes for a brief second, unable to take in how overwhelmed he was feeling.

"Sorry, I'll just—" Santa began, shifting his gaze towards the kitchen, taking a few steps back to make his way to the hallway once again.

Junwon briefly nodded, his head sinking back into the pillow beneath him once again.

Wait—pillow?

His blurry vision met the soft, white-colored fabric beneath him. It was indeed a pillow, one from upstairs to be exact. From his room. He assumed the two friends in the kitchen brought it for him after they found him sleeping on the couch.

The gesture would've made him smile if it wasn't for the desperate need for the gesture to come from his lover. The thought of her staying in the hospital while he couldn't go to see her made his heart ache with guilt, sadness, and despair.

And he couldn't help but think that it was all his fault.

. . .

"What is all that noise, Yaya?" Santa groaned, his feet heavy as they carried him inside the kitchen to meet the sight of his friend gathering what was left of the pan on the floor.

"The pan fell again," Yacht complained, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, I'll fix everything. I think you better stay out of the kitchen, considering that you almost burned our breakfast a few minutes ago."

Santa rolled his eyes. "You dropped the pan twice."

"You dropped the food twice. If Mal was here, she would've freaked the hell out."

Santa's face fell once again, a guilty sensation pulling at the strings of his heart.

"But she's not here, so..."

Yacht nodded his head, a glance of anger mixed with guilt flashing through his eyes. "Because of that asshole."

Santa nodded his head, then shifted his gaze to the pan, which was now seated peacefully on the kitchen counter. Yacht paused and glanced at the pan as well, his expression changing from anger to distress. His breath hitched while he slightly bent over the counter as if it would somehow ease the painful sensation erupting through his legs.

"Hey—you okay? Your knees again?" Santa questioned, hurrying towards his friend to hold his arm in an attempt to hold him up. Yacht quickly nodded, his head down for his eyes to stare at the marble counter. "Why, did you not take your medicine or something?"

With Yacht's sudden silence, Santa knew that he did in no way take his medicine. He took an accusing stare at his friend, already rolling his eyes at his lack of self-care. "Yaya..."

"I didn't have time to take it this morning, because we had to go to the hospital early, remember?"

If Santa could roll his eyes again, he would have. "That's not a damn excuse—"

"Are we going to stand here and talk or something?" Yacht interrupted in an attempt to change the subject. "That breakfast is not going to cook itself."

The younger bit his lower lip, glancing at the image of burned, ripped-apart food that was in no way edible. "I think it's safe to say that we'll just never learn how to cook. Wanna order takeout instead?"

We can't live on takeout forever was what Yacht wanted to say, but as soon as he took a mutual glance at the burned pan, the food he felt sorry for, and the clock that was ticking while they hadn't eaten yet, the thoughts inside his brain changed.

"You know what?" Yacht finally spoke. "Sure."