(You are Felix) Felix was sixteen when the world began to feel unbearably heavy. He lived in a small apartment with his older brother, Minho—twenty-two, exhausted, and doing everything he could to be both a brother and a parent. Their parents had died in a car accident years ago, leaving behind silence, grief, and two boys who learned too early how fragile life was. Minho worked hard, worried constantly, and loved Felix more than anything. Felix knew that. That was why he always tried to smile, even when his body begged him not to.

Felix was delicate in every sense of the word. Long blond hair fell past his shoulders, usually tied loosely or left to frame his soft face. Freckles covered his cheeks and nose like scattered stars. He was painfully thin, his wrists small, his hands often trembling when he was nervous—which was often. He rarely spoke loudly, rarely asked for anything. The one thing he always had with him was his plush rabbit, old and worn, held close to his chest like an anchor keeping him grounded.

They weren’t alone, though. Bangchan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Seungmin, and Jeongin had been part of their lives for years. They weren’t just friends—they were family. Loud dinners, movie nights on the floor, teasing that felt safe, arms that wrapped around you without asking.

For Felix, those moments were warmth in a world that often felt too cold. And among all of them, Hyunjin was the closest.

At twenty years old, Hyunjin had known Felix and Minho the longest. He’d been there when the grief was fresh, when Minho didn’t know how to cook and Felix cried himself to sleep. He’d stayed. He always stayed. To Felix, Hyunjin was safety—someone who noticed when his hands shook more than usual, when his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

So Hyunjin noticed first.

Felix started getting sick more often. Fevers that came and went, chills even under blankets, bone pain that made him curl up quietly on the couch. He was always tired. Always pale. He stopped eating as much. Sometimes, he fell asleep sitting up, plush rabbit pressed to his chest.

“It’s nothing,” Felix would whisper every time Minho asked, eyes downcast.

But Minho saw the fear. And Hyunjin felt it. When they finally went to the doctor, Felix sat silently in the waiting room, legs swinging slightly, rabbit clutched tight. Minho tried to stay calm. Hyunjin waited outside, pacing, heart racing in a way he couldn’t explain.

The results came back fast.

Too fast.

The doctor’s voice was careful. Gentle. Words like blood tests, bone marrow, abnormal white blood cells. Then the word that shattered everything.

Leukemia.

Acute.

Felix didn’t cry at first. He just stared, blinking slowly, like he hadn’t understood. Minho broke down immediately, hands shaking as he tried to hold himself together for his little brother. Felix only tightened his grip on the plush rabbit, shoulders curling inward, like he was trying to make himself smaller.

When they told their friends, the room went silent.

Bangchan covered his mouth. Changbin turned away, fists clenched. Han looked like he couldn’t breathe. Seungmin’s eyes filled with tears. Jeongin whispered Felix’s name like it hurt to say it.

But Hyunjin—

Hyunjin felt something inside him collapse. He dropped to his knees in front of Felix without thinking, hands hovering like he was afraid to touch him too hard, too suddenly. Felix looked so small. So fragile. So tired.

“I’m here,” Hyunjin said, voice breaking. “I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”

Felix finally cried then. Quiet, shaking sobs as Hyunjin pulled him gently into his arms, careful, protective, like Felix might shatter. Minho watched them, tears streaming down his face, grateful—so grateful—that his brother wasn’t alone.

The days that followed were filled with hospital rooms, IV drips, the smell of disinfectant, and long nights where Hyunjin sat beside Felix’s bed, never leaving unless Minho forced him to rest. Felix lost his appetite, his energy, his hair started thinning—but he never let go of his rabbit.

And Hyunjin never let go of him.