NOT MY TYPE • YEONGYU

14. Fever

The next morning, the atomsphere felt different. Beomgyu laid still on the bed while Yeonjun was long gone. The side of his on bed stayed cold, vacant and devoid of warmth.

Yeonjun, barely getting sleep last night showered freshed and buttoned his sleeve’s shirt. His eyes with resistance drew back on the boy laying on top of the soft mattress. Even though his back was facing him and Yeonjun couldn’t see his face -he could found the glimpse by the large mirror right before the younger.

Beomgyu's face was round— really round and chubby like a doll with closed eyes. Skin too bright and milk toned that Yeonjun unconsciously feels bothered.

Anguishing a frustrated breath, Yeonjun moved. Going to the nightstand besides Beomgyu’s head to get his watch. Little did he know, it was very cunning of him to get a glimpse closer without admitting.

Just as he leaned to take his watch from it, Beomgyu moved. One of his eyes fluttering open while the other stayed close. Yeonjun's breath hitched, eyes widened as those darkened orbs of beomgyu gazed heavily on him.

Yeonjun felt something ripping in his chest. He exhaled, exhaled and so on until Beomgyu chosen to close his eyes again just for opening it fully the next second. Yeonjun gulped, attempting to look as much as unbothered he could make himself look. He took his watch and wrapped it around his wrist, eyes now overed Beomgyu.

Beomgyu, meanwhile, by the help of his hands sat on the bed. His head hurts as if he had drink but he didn’t. His tears from last night had drayed stain on his cheeks. Hairs disheveled and messy on the either side of his face almost cupping it.

“Can't you keep the curtains close?” The younger whispered against the bed. Pulling the blanket up to his face in hope to prevent the light appearing on his face.

Yeonjun’s mood instantly piqued, feeling extremely low and under use. The only thing he could do was to sigh. A terrible, exhausted sigh ripping through his throat.

His gaze heaved. “It's morning already. Wake up?” That shit surely sounded more like a plead than any suggestion. As if he was asking him to get up and not sure of his own words. As if he could not trust his voice which he actually doesn't.

Beomgyu groaned on the bed. Head aching, temples thriving and mind blank. Every limbs of his body ached for completely nothing. One of his hands massaged the back side of his waist as he managed to whisper.

“Plesase... close the curtains. I need to get some sleep really quick” Beomgyu yawned.

Yeonjun gulped for no reason. Eyes diverting apart. Beomgyu was using this sorry word a lot from last night. For sure, it was a bother. A big bother for Yeonjun for some reasons he could not manage to name.

“Well... kay” He chooses to close those without further ado. Thought so it's the best thing to do.

Beomgyu plops himself on the bed, almost motionless, as if feeble death body losing the power of its own. Yeonjun stood there for a second. Taking a look of the guy whose eyes kept struggling to keep open.

His mind flew —the useasy feeling, anxious looks, struggling emotions —all of that blew back to him, to his mind, in a row. At the end, he founds himself backing away. Foots backing away, eyes diverting apart and with that last —everlasting glance he walked off.

***

Hours passed like a blur, non-stop and without lack. Eventually, when Yeonjun entered the front door it was already passed midnight.

His shoulders dumped, hairs were messy not with stress or frustration but with exhaustion. His eyes felt heavy, about to close just the moment his foot touched the floor of his home. Exhaustive —work was that he had to call his drivers to get him back in the home.