Màu nền Màu tối Mặc định Xám nhạt Xanh nhạt Xanh đậm Vàng nhạt Màu sepia Vàng đậm Vàng ố

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The next day, when Mingyu woke up, there were only him and the empty room.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and looked up, his hands on his forehead. The cold air drowned him, but instead of pulling the blanket, Mingyu stepped to the floor, barefooted against the freezing floor. The apple had gone - on that clean white windowsills, it didn't seem like there had ever been a red object lying motionless there. Ever.

Jeon Wonwoo had gone. The hat having shade of darkness had also disappeared with its owner, leaving an empty space in the left-behind's heart. What was this kind of feeling? After the highs last night, there was hardly anything left. Yet, the smouldering ash, were again at risk of bursting into a fierce fire. Mingyu shaked his empty brain, wondering where had the owner of the quizzical voice which was as cool as the gallon of ice and the drunken husky voice gone. Having no one to dialogue in his mind, Mingyu suddenly found how quiet the world was.

Suddenly, he felt like someone had just flicked his back.

Looking out, he only saw the curtains flying in the wind, while the apple - lying quietly in the middle of the white feather pillow.

Red as blood, red as lipstick, red as love poison, red as wine chateaux.

One step forward, Mingyu came to one side of the bed. He sat down, indulged himself in the softness of the bed, his eyes didn't leave the apple at once. He heard a cracking sound as shaky as the interfered screen, the striking sound beating his eardrums, and then bursted out. There was someone trying to say something. There were two sources of strength that were entangled. Was that instinct or rationality, or both and an invisible power?

His arms reach out halfway and then get back, the apple was lying still. Mingyu remembered Wonwoo's words, "Never try"; But it was Wonwoo himself, in another voice, If you do not try, how do you know if it is wrong or not?" The last thing maybe death, that's all.

The crimson skin of the apple was cold, lurring a pleasant sweet fragrance. When Mingyu bite the first piece, a stronger flavour came, the sweetness at the tip of the tongue, the sore at the throat, and finally, a tingling sensation in the oral cavity.

In his ear he listened to the broken sounds, the cracking sound of the radio, and the clanging bells of the church of God. The white room broke to debrises, the paint was falling, revealing the behind wall with uncountable scratches.

Thewhite light flickered and then shut off, leaving Mingyu sitting on the peelingbed; The apple on his hand slided down, hit the floor and rolled to the dark. 

A/N: Well this is the English version of one of my fanfic :> And because my native language is not English, please make allowance for my spelling mistakes and stuff <3