“Now, we run. We keep running until the end.” Here at the crossroads of all things, bloodied and torn, there are no real survivors, only the shells of men who used to dream of freedom, not ever having known real freedom. Or that it would mean this much pain and death.
In the midst of destruction, seeing the wide, unseeing eyes of those they used to call friends, they look for comfort where they can. Sobbing into Xiumin’s shoulder, the boy, too young to know the pain of loss, blocks out to sight of his best friend lying cold and discarded in the dirt, blood matting his black hair. Sehun clings onto the older boy like he’s the last thread keeping him from falling into the abyss. “I’m so tired, hyung.”
For his part, Xiumin tries to be as strong as he can for the boy now relying on him. The nights will be long, filled with nightmares he’ll wake from screaming and reaching out for a lost face, sweet and laughing. “I know.” His arms tighten to quell the boy’s shaking. “But we can’t rest yet.”
- Admin J