if he was being honest, beomgyu couldn't care less about the moon. a mere rock hanging in he sky with no shine of its own — he never understood why it was a topic in poetry.
but saying that would be rude, so he just stayed quiet, blankly looking at the girl. he wondered why she hadn't looked like he was insane.
maybe she was used to seeing drenched suicidal boys on the school rooftop, sitting on the ledge, kicking their feet over a dangerous height to fall.
'you're really quiet, but you're always so bright in class, are you okay?'