Hatred: Nomin

Shadows: 9

In the early morning the air was fresh. Although the sky was light and a pale wash of blue visible through thinning clouds, the streets that Jaemin and Jeno walked along were still dark, the low hanging sun casting elongated shadows of buildings, trees and bodies; pulled like taffy across the pavement.

Jaemin seemed like his mind was occupied, Jeno had concluded. He walked along the edge of the pavement, arms out at his sides to maintain his balance, sleeves of one of Jeno's shirts hanging loosely from his wrists and shuffling with the breeze. He looked a lot younger than he usually did at school, but in a way more mature. Like he'd shed the more carefully planned outfits in favour of comfortability and convenience and it came off as strangely grown up. He didn't look like he was trying to be stronger or more put together than he was. He looked like he didn't need to prove that strength to anyone, because he knew that everyone that mattered was already aware. He bore his heart on his sleeve- or Jeno's, so to speak- as he wobbled around, tiptoeing on the pavement, eyebrows furrowed and intermittently illuminated with the cowering sun as they passed buildings and those fickle shadows. It harked back to young jaemin; and young Jaemin was someone Jeno had been so very fond of. He was upset he'd never been apart of young Jaemin changing into the Jaemin he was today; similar as they may seem, Jeno could barely tie the strings and believe it to be the same person.

Jeno was walking in the middle of the road, but he didn't draw his eyes away from Jaemin, and his stupid antics that would irk him endlessly maybe as little as a week ago.

Something about this Jaemin though, the vulnerability, the realness of it all, left this empty feeling in Jeno's chest. He didn't feel heat rising and twisting around his throat, he didn't feel the hands wrapping around his ribs and pulling, the anger he usually would.

Abruptly Jaemin stopped, pivoting on the balls of his feat to study Jeno with a perplexed expression.

What do you want? Jeno imagined Jaemin saying; venom laced in his words and the scowl on his face.

Instead he broke out into a shy grin.

"Why are you staring?"

Jeno blinked a few times, processing what to say and drawing a blank. Eventually he ended up staring at his trainers, worn with laces frayed, as he kicked at a pebble in the road. He shrugged, stuck his hands in his pockets and continued walking, brushing past Jaemin and up the pathway to the entrance of the corner shop.

It was small and crowded, as it always was, shelves jam packed with colourful plastic wrappers boasting colourful sweet contents. The fridges were bundled against the back wall like cigarettes in a pack, cool blue light spilling into the aisles.

Jeno knew this shop inside out; it took him a matter of seconds to locate the coffee shelf and start to scan it, at which point the bell dinged as Jaemin entered in after.

"Jeno?" He called gently, and Jeno could see his blue hair bobbing around in between the boxes of tea on the shelf.

In his peripheral Jeno saw Jaemin start to approach, but he didn't turn to look, and instead pretended to be very invested in weighing the pros and cons of each and every brand of coffee congesting the shelves.

"What do you want? Americano? Gold brew?"

Jaemin leaned his head over Jeno's shoulder to peer at his options, grabbing a jar quickly from behind jeno, and drew back wordlessly to head to the counter.

Jeno was yet again, dumbstruck for just a second too long.

Pennies on a countertop, a good day greeting and they were already out again. A dizzying exchange, which Jeno was feeling more and more often in the company of Jaemin, who walked this time in line with Jeno, feeling his eyes on him with his steps.