Chapter Text
Thirty-one days. It had been thirty-one days, a whole month since that faithful night.
Jeongin knew because he had been counting the way people counted steps, or calories, or prayers.
Thirty-one days of miraculously still being alive. He didn’t think he would make it. He’s still adjusting to the fact that he’s alive.
He got out of his bed and headed towards the kitchen carefully. He stood by the doorway, barefoot, in cozy oversized pajamas as he watched Chan drinking coffee, the steam rising from the mug, while Changbin and Felix were making breakfast, talking loudly as ever, which Jeongin grew used to their antics.
Normal smells.
Normal sounds.
“You’re staring again,” Changbin said as he placed the pancakes, fruit, and protein on plates so everyone could help themselves.
Jeongin blushed. Changbin had easily become even more of a safe space to the boy since everything happened. Jeongin went up to Changbin’s side and clinged onto his arm.
Changbin smiled to himself. “Good morning to you too.”
Jeongin still did most things slowly. Not out of fear. Out of recalibration.
He was learning what it felt like to be “normal.”
Felix slid into a chair dramatically. “Innie, tell him I’m right.”
Jeongin blinked, confused.
Chan sighed from the counter. “He is not right.”
“It's a form of creative expression!” Felix insisted.
“He tried to add gummy bears to the pancakes,” Chan deadpanned.
Jeongin stared at Felix, confused, but giggled. Felix commented back. “Listen, they’re gooey and pancakes are fluffy. I wanted a mixture of both.”
“We concluded we would get a big bag of them later for movie night,” Chan said with a smile as he got himself a plate and one for Felix too.
Jeongin was still clinging onto Changbin’s arms while the older of the two got plates for them. He whispered gently to Jeongin, “Do you want to try some of the bacon and eggs today with your pancakes?” he asked.
Jeongin looked into Changbin’s eyes then back at the food. He was still getting used to quote, “eating normally,” having been restricted and mostly avoidant of his food his whole life, so any new foods were a challenge. Jeongin knew he needed to try, but it was scary every time. Jeongin motioned to Changbin with hands, ‘a little bit,’ is what Changbin picked up.
“Okay, sounds good.” Changbin cut a piece of bacon in half and put a small spoonful of eggs on his plate with one pancake, given that Jeongin still didn’t have the biggest appetite like everyone else.
Jeongin’s mouth twitched. He couldn’t tell if it was nervousness, hunger, or excitement, or a combination of all three.
The twitch was small.
But real.
And he didn’t cover it this time.
That was new.
Changbin gave a small smile towards Innie as all four of them sat at the table. The group let Jeongin go with whatever was comfortable to him, and didn’t poke or pry him to do anything he didn’t wanna do. It was part of their routine now.
They never hovered, and didn’t watch every move he made. All Changbin did was hand him his fork.
Like this was just breakfast. Jeongin sat down slowly. Felix was already halfway through a dramatic retelling of how his culinary genius was being “stifled by the system.” Chan nodded along absentmindedly, clearly not listening.
Normal.
Jeongin picked up the fork.
The pancake first. Safe. Familiar. He cut a small piece. Dipped it lightly in syrup.
Chewed.
Fine.
Good.
Nothing bad happened.
His eyes drifted to the eggs.
They were soft. Yellow. Harmless.
His stomach twisted — not in disgust, just in anticipation. Changbin laughed at something Felix said.
Didn’t look at him. Didn’t rush him.
Jeongin took a breath, cutting the eggs even smaller than they already were. He hesitated. His brain supplied old thoughts automatically.
Too much. You shouldn’t. You don’t need it.
He inhaled. Exhaled.
And put it in his mouth. It was warm. Buttery. Soft.
He blinked.
Chewed slowly.
Waited.
Nothing bad happened. He swallowed.
Across the table, Changbin’s hand rested loosely near his own plate. Close enough to reach. Jeongin nudged his knee lightly under the table. Changbin glanced over casually. Jeongin gave the smallest nod.
Changbin’s eyes softened — but he didn’t make it a scene. “Good?” he asked, like he was asking about the weather.
Jeongin nodded again. Then, braver this time, he took a bite of bacon. Felix noticed before anyone else. His expression flickered — pride, relief, something protective — but he swallowed it.
“See?” Felix said loudly, pointing at the pancakes instead. “If we had gummy bears, this moment would be even better.”
Chan rolled his eyes, laughing and teasing. “Absolutely not. We’re saving those tonight so you don’t crash and burn before.”
The conversation flowed around him.
Jeongin kept chewing.
Kept existing.
He didn’t rush.
He didn’t panic.
He just ate.
And somewhere between the second bite of egg and the third sip of water, something unfamiliar settled in his chest.
Not fear.
Not vigilance.
Thirty-one days later.
And breakfast was just breakfast.