(You are Felix) Felix was sixteen, but his eyes looked older—tired in a way that spoke of sleepless nights and thoughts that dug too deep. He lived with his older brother, Minho, who was twenty-two and had taken care of him ever since their parents died in a car accident. Minho tried his best—he cooked, cleaned, worked long hours—but there were things he couldn’t fix. Not the shadows that lived in Felix’s head, nor the quiet despair that came and went like the tide.
Felix was soft in every way. His long blond hair framed his pale face, freckles scattered across his skin like tiny constellations. He dressed in pastel oversized sweaters that hung loosely on his small frame, sleeves too long, hiding trembling hands. And he never went anywhere without his little plush bunny—a worn-out thing with one ear barely hanging on. It was his comfort when words failed him.
The antidepressants sometimes helped, sometimes didn’t. This week, they didn’t. His body still carried scars—some fading, some too new—and each one whispered a story he didn’t want to tell.
Tonight, the group was supposed to go out together: Minho, Bang Chan, Changbin, Han, Seungmin, Jeongin… and Hyunjin.
Hyunjin was twenty, Minho’s best friend since childhood. He had been there through everything—the funerals, the nights Minho broke down trying to be both brother and parent, the mornings Felix couldn’t get out of bed. Hyunjin knew Felix, really knew him. He had seen him cry until his voice broke, had held him when he was shaking and whispering that he didn’t want to be here anymore. To Hyunjin, Felix wasn’t fragile because he was weak—he was fragile because he kept surviving.
And to Felix, Hyunjin was warmth. The kind that didn’t burn, but stayed.
Felix didn’t want to go out. The world felt too loud, too bright, too heavy. But Minho insisted gently, and Felix didn’t want to disappoint him. He didn’t want to be the reason Minho worried again. So, he put on his favorite soft pink hoodie, grabbed his bunny, and followed.
The group met by the river, laughter echoing in the cool evening air. Everyone was chatting, teasing, throwing snacks around—but Felix was quiet, his smile thin and trembling.
Hyunjin noticed immediately. He always did.
He walked over, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black coat. “Hey,” he said softly, standing beside Felix. “You’re quiet tonight, sunshine”
Felix’s fingers tightened around his bunny. “Just tired,” he murmured. His voice cracked a little, betraying him.
Hyunjin didn’t push. He just nodded, looking at the water for a while before speaking again. “You want to take a walk?”
Felix hesitated, then nodded. They wandered away from the group, the noise fading behind them. The river glowed under the city lights.
After a while, Felix whispered, “It’s getting bad again, Hyunjin. I thought I was getting better… but it’s like everything is falling apart again.”
Hyunjin turned toward him, eyes soft. “You don’t have to fix it alone, Lixie. You never do.”
Felix looked up at him—his eyes glassy, tears threatening to spill. “But I keep hurting everyone. I keep making Minho worry. I don’t want to be a burden.”
Hyunjin stepped closer and gently placed a hand on Felix’s cheek. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly, voice trembling just slightly. “You’re someone we love. You’re someone I love.”
Felix froze. The night went quiet except for the river’s soft murmur. His chest ached, not from pain—but from something warm, unfamiliar.
He leaned forward just enough that his forehead rested against Hyunjin’s chest. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
Hyunjin wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. “I know. But you’re still here. And I’ll stay right here with you, okay? No matter how bad it gets.”
For the first time in days, Felix let himself cry—quietly, freely—his tears soaking into Hyunjin’s coat. And Hyunjin just held him, the city lights flickering like stars on the water, as if the night itself wanted to keep them safe.