Under the sky in room 553

6

"Hoping that you won't forget."

He took in a shaky breath as his voice dimmed, and then there was silence. Beomgyu just sat there, holding onto his guitar for dear life like it could help him anchor his racing thoughts. He didn't dare look up, afraid that he would burst if he did. So he waited.

And waited. And waited. Until he couldn't bear the silence anymore, because now he was beginning to second-guess if he sounded totally awful and Yeonjun just couldn't bring himself to lie to him.

But once he finally raised his head, Yeonjun was just sitting there—unmoving from his position like he was freeze-framed. Beomgyu, on the other hand, was going to combust out of frustration. He almost threw his guitar away—or at the older—just so he could garner the slightest indication of a reaction from him.

Except Yeonjun was just avidly staring at Beomgyu's lips. And when Beomgyu caught that, his heart hammered all the way up to his eardrums.

His desperation to break the tension gave him the courage to speak. "Was it that bad?"

Like he was broken from a spell, Yeonjun snapped out of his trance and finally met his eyes. "What? No, no. It was good. I had no idea you could sing this well."

"What do you take me for, a cow?" Beomgyu faked an exasperated groan, taking this opportunity to climb out of the bed to put his guitar away. He needed all the distance he could use between him and Yeonjun right now, since something odd bloomed in his chest the longer the boy was close to him. Beomgyu did not recognise that feeling, so by default he didn't like it.

"A cow sings better, I'm sure." Chimed Yeonjun from behind him, and Beomgyu responded with an unimpressed noise. "Anyway, do you want to hear the original?" He asked, reaching for the album laying beside his DVD player.

"Sure. What's it called?"

"Paper Hearts," he answered, putting the CD in the extender and pushing it back into the contraption. "By Tori Kelly. It's my favourite song right now. I bought her EP because I found her on Soundcloud."

He pressed the play button, then turned to head back toward the bed. The action should not frighten him as much as it did now, because it was his bed—the one he slept in daily. The older was the guest, not him.

But with Yeonjun being on it right now, his bed had never felt more foreign. Don't be silly, Beomgyu. We shared our beds our entire lives.

Yet, it was like Choi Yeonjun was put into this world solely just to make his life worse; because the older laid down and made himself comfortable, audacious enough to pat the space right next to him. "Come lay down, quickly."

Beomgyu immediately recognised this as an imitation of himself and regretted it instantly. But Yeonjun was staring at him expectantly, and Beomgyu realised then that a defeat was already written in stone for him.

The lyrics began to play in the background as Beomgyu plopped down beside Yeonjun. They were both taller now, their heights making them an awkward fit for a bed that used to perfectly accommodate them just a year ago.

He never had a problem being skin to skin with Yeonjun—but why was it getting harder for him just to breathe with each passing second?

His mind began to descend into haywire. Maybe it was just puberty, but he noticed that Yeonjun no longer had that baby powder smell. Why did he have body odor now? And had he always smelled like pine and sandalwood?

Beomgyu could no longer keep up. His brain was shooting a million questions in a million different directions, all of which he knew he would not want to be answered. Nonetheless, his head refused to slow down.