“who is this?”

he could be talking about so many different things. your old bedroom is filled with tender, nostalgic relics of your past. pictures of you and your friends from your fifth grade field day, magazine cutouts of celebrities you used to love, a caricature drawing of you and your younger cousin from the fair you went to nearly a decade ago.

but changbin isn’t talking about any of those. you can see him in the reflection of the mirror, bending his knees to sit lightly on the corner of your old, creaky bed. your gaze follows him instead of lingering on the old pictures stuck in the wooden frame of your dresser mirror. you turn around then, resting your behind against the dresser and watching as changbin gently lifts one of your oldest, dearest friends from your neatly made bed.

the teddy bear is worn, vibrant pink turned muted from countless hugs and years of love. you cried many an hour while holding this bear to your chest, arms squeezing its poor neck tight while your tears dried into its fur.

“oh my god,” you breathe, stepping away from the mirror to sit down beside changbin. you reach for the bear and changbin hands it to you right away. he watches with a soft smile as you soothe your hands along its worn, well-loved body. he guffaws when you pull the bear’s little round ear back to reveal its original color that has yet to fade.

“does it have a name?” he asks.

“you can’t laugh,” is what you come back with. “seriously! don’t, i was like… five. it’s kind of… kind of right on the nose.”

changbin’s first thought is that you named it something simple. something like fuzzy, or bear-y maybe. like when you showed him your old webkinz account and you both cried laughing at the silly, childish names you gave them.

“i won’t laugh! yah, why would i laugh?!”

“it’s a he. his name is pink teddy.”