Next Door |•YEONGYU/BEOMJUN•|

~4~

Beomgyu ate quietly at the table with his mother. The silence was deafening, broken only by their light chewing noises.

Beomgyu's mom put down her chopsticks and broke the awkward air surrounding them. "Beomgyu-ah, how were the people next door? Did they like the cakes?"

Beomgyu choked on his food, remembering the meat allergy incident he caused that day. His mom quickly flashed him a concerned look and patted his back. Taking a sip of water, he replied, "Yeah, they are fantastic. Very fancy."

His mother sighed and nodded before taking the crockery away to the kitchen. Why does everyone keep sighing over Beomgyu? The fuck??

Soon, a doorbell rang, catching both their attention.

"Oh, you're father must be home," his mom said, drying her hands on her apron. "You should probably go out with Taehyun for a bit. It's been a while since you two hung out," she said, walking quickly to open the door.

"He moved mom!" *Beomgyu said, raising his voice enough so his mom could hear.

"Well, I'm not letting you sit forever in the house being lazy!" She opened the door for her husband.

Beomgyu sighed before lazily picking up his body from the chair and walking to his room like a ghost girl. As he got ready to go for a walk outside, he decided to check his Instagram. A mysterious follow request from someone named Healing.

He scoffed at the user.

He accepted the request, but didn't follow them back. He grabbed his headphones and plugged them into his phone. He opened Spotify and played one of those old Korean songs that he so loved as he went outside.

He walked casually on the sidewalk. The cool winter air brushed against his face, giving his pale skin a rosemary tint. He walked across the apartment complex like that for a while before his mind was boggling for mischief, and he had to turn off his phone. He looked around with his hands in his pockets.

What to do?

What to do?

A tall figure with glossy dark hair, the same smile-like curve on the corner of their lips, and warmness shining in their eyes as they rode their bike.

Beomgyu's breath hitched as he saw the older male, his blood going on override. He wanted to go talk to him. Tell him how big a fan he is. Ask for an autograph. Or a selfie. Or both. Who wouldn't?