01 | deep breath

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as soon as yangyang steps out of his car, he regrets not bringing a coat. the hassle of moving already stressed him out, winding him tight like an elastic, ready to snap, and this is almost the last straw. key word, almost! he manages to keep it together, cursing the lord in the sky (if he exists) as a downpour begins, soaking him through to the skin. what an awful day.

"at least all your shit is inside already." renjun mutters next to him, slamming the car door shut and pulling his hoodie up to 'protect' his head from the rain, as he says. like a vampire but with  rain instead of sun. 

his roommate sprints past him, desperately trying to find the housekeys in the deep pockets of his baggy pants that are definitely about three sizes too big (seriously, who wears such huge pants???). yangyang trudges after him, wading through puddles of gross water and sighing as he watches the cuffs of his favourite jeans get absolutely ruined.

"where are the fucking keys?" renjun exclaims, and yangyang groans.

"you can't have fucking lost your keys already?" he says, slapping a hand on his face.

"i swear they were in my pocket in the car man, they can't have gone far." renjun promises, and reluctantly, yangyang helps him search for them in his car, in all the murky puddles, and all over the driveway and grass in front of their new house. what a brilliant start. he then spots an orange sticky note taped to the front door, hidden just under the flap of the mailbox. how he hadn't caught it before, he's not really sure.

"spare keys are under the plant pot." it reads, but only just about. the rain has caused the cheap ink to bleed into the mushy paper. but ever thankful, renjun lifts up the empty brown ceramic next to the door. sure enough, a set of keys is laying there, with a beautiful globe keychain attached. renjun kisses the keys, and quickly lets himself and yangyang in. sweet home. it's not luxury per say, dusty and old as heck, but it's all they can afford at the moment. number 306 is going to be home sweet home for the next few years. 

"dibs on the shower." renjun says, and yangyang shoves him out of the way in a desperate bid to race him up the stairs. to the one bathroom with a working shower that the last owner said would only stay warm for five minutes.

"get the fuck out of my way!" renjun shouts, clawing at his clothes as he chases after yangyang. unfortunately, renjun manages to slip past him and nearly traps his fingers in between the rickety door and the frame as he slams it shut. he can hear renjun cackling on the other side of the door, and yangyang pounds at the door (mostly playfully).

"you better be out before the water runs cold!" yangyang shouts, followed by a litany of insults, curses and the sound of the water running. he decides to change out of the absolutely disgusting clothes he's currently wearing, and is suddenly hyper aware of the uncomfortable way his jeans are sticking to his skin, and the gross bits of god knows what stuck to his hands.

he immediately washes his hands in the spare bathroom sink (sadly, not getting to shower), before heading to his surprisingly big bedroom to change into something for the time being. hopefully just the two minutes it takes renjun to get out of the shower. 

yangyang doesn't really understand how old the house is, but it has definitely still showing signs of being updated in the seventies, because there is dreadful flowery wallpaper, combined with a horrifying red plaid couch tucked into the corner - almost like they were trying to hide it. yangyang doesn't blame them. there's also a popcorn ceiling, something yangyang had hoped to never see as soon as he'd moved out of his own home.

to be fair, there are also some gorgeous choices. the last person to live here must ave been conflicted when decorating. there is a mirror hanging above the plain chest of drawers yangyang brought with him with a beautiful intricate gold frame, and some really cute embroidered cushions sitting on the horrifying plaid couch (yangyang will be getting rid of it as soon as possible).

lost in the fire./ yangderyWhere stories live. Discover now