(love)birds of a feather

chapter sixteen

Eddy's hand falls to Brett's, lacing them together—another day to get lost in their own little world of warmth. Another day to get lost in the way the other carries love and light and all the beautiful things.

"Breakfast?"

♡ ♡ ♡

"So, what'd you think?"

Brett tilts his head. "Of what?"

"Yesterday." Eddy pauses to eat another forkful off his plate. "Our first kiss."

—Brett doesn't miss the way the last three words sound in Eddy's voice with a different timbre, beneath the weight of everything, of yesterday, of the months before, and the eternity to come.

Truth be told, it was everything—it was pure love, tenderness, made of all the beautiful little and big things of the world. It was stars imploding and rebirthing, as roses of petals soft to the touch bloomed. It was soft, gentle, passionate, but never unsure, no. It was so incredibly beautiful, Brett thinks.

"It felt—new." Brett smiles, but god, by the time he were to finish listing everything he felt in that one moment, Haydn may well have composed another hundred-and-eight symphonies. "It was amazing, really. You're a good kisser."

Eddy grins. "I know I am." He extends a warm hand and cups a side of Brett's face lovingly. "Only for you, though."

"You absolute sap," Brett laughs, but he leans into the touch anyway, Eddy's eyes and smile the same look of loving softness as his fingers curl around Brett's ear, trail into his hair.

These type of days are what they'll be living together from now onwards, until their last breaths. And that in itself is a beautiful thing.

Brett sighs contentedly and lets his head fall on Eddy's shoulder, as Eddy circles an arm around Brett's shoulders to hold him near. They're sheathed in warm, comfortable silence, but the actions alone, they say a soft "I'm yours" and respond with a tenfold softer "you're mine."

"Eddy," Brett's voice carries quiet through their little bubble, "I think I'm home."

Despite Brett's words projecting no louder than a soft whisper, he knows Eddy heard him perfectly. And despite the still silence, he's sure Eddy knows what he's talking about, what his words mean; the tiny kiss Brett receives on his head says so.

The Earth is everyone's world. Someday you'll meet someone who's your world and your world only.

It was you. It was always you.

It's always been Eddy Chen, and it shall always be Eddy Chen, until the end of time.

♡ ♡ ♡

The morning passed like that—they uploaded a YouTube video, just a short skit, before getting some practice hours in, the bright and dark timbre of their violins in perfect harmony.

The morning passed like that—with two souls so deeply and so irrevocably in love beneath the warmth of the sunlight, enclosed in the homelike warmth of their own love that's been ever so intricately blossomed.

And hence came the bound-to-happen—giving their friends the news, telling their friends and family about their newfound romantic involvement.

Eddy's a hundred percent sure, and has absolutely no clue how his friends are going to react—he's tipping side to side on a thin line between predictiveness and the dark territories which house big red question marks.

To Eddy, knowing their friends' views on his and Brett's bond, reactions depend on exactly who you tell "Brett Yang and Eddy Chen are in love with eachother"—