The title sounds familiar..but I’m sure I’ve never read it. [/he scans the book cover while reaching to prod at the spine, eyes flickering from the male to the book whilst nodding to himself ] I’m usually alone also, but I don’t mind it. Though, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I keep you company, would you?
"It’s a children’s book, I found it at a bench there—some kid left it." he mumbles, shrugging his shoulder before putting the book down as he shakes his head to comply. "Not really, you do know, from the day we first met that I’m not a good company, if that’s what you’re looking for."
Baekhyun sighed and leaned back in his chair, spinning around in it with his hands on his head. He was dressed comfortably, and morning autumn sun was shining in the window as the boy sat in the loft of his apartment working on rewrites for his new play. He really didn’t have the attention span for editing today though, and he was bored out of his mind by all the corrections his editor had sent him to work on.
With a sigh, he looked as his phone, not expecting much since people had seemingly been off doing their own things lately, himself included. Still, though, a distraction would have been nice, at least. As Baekhyun fiddled with his phone, he wondered briefly about Chanyeol, the tall, rude stranger he’d met on the street several weeks ago. He knew the other had his number, but he still hadn’t contacted Baekhyun, and neither had Jongin his roomate. He hoped the two were all right, but when even a brief “Hey” hadn’t brought a response over a week ago, he had decided to just wait it out.
The day didn’t turn out the way that he wanted it to be, even from the start, he didn’t get the sleep that is needed for him to surpass the day without being too agitated with people. It has always been unfortunate for him to lack patience and he couldn’t quite understand why he has to get it either way. He is bored and all he could do is to fidget with his phone in hand as he climb on top of his favorite tall tree in the middle of park and sighs in content, up there, he can just be Chanyeol and no one will ever care.
It didn’t occurred to him, until he sees Baekhyun’s number on his phone that he has his number after weeks of knowing each other by just a simple question on where to eat that time when he was hungry, or was it a question for a drink—whatever it is, Baekhyun was the only one who answered him properly after a lot of attempt to ask other people, and he was the only one who had the patience to talk to him. Chanyeol could even remember the small innocent talk at the end of the day that he and Baekhyun shared that questioned his own beliefs. He grabs his phone to poke the keypad, pouncing in a word before sending it to the latter.
[ Text to: Baekhyun ] Wassup?
You are good at something, stop lying to yourself. You’re good at breaking down comic book plots, cooking ramen perfectly, making your friends happy, knowing the time without looking at a clock, getting the perfect ending at RPG’s, or figuring out the twist ending to movies. Don’t let society tell you your talents are meaningless because they don’t serve an economical purpose. Your talents reflect your interests and passions, and what’s important to you is important.
Twelve days. It had been twelve days since Jongin was last face to face with Chanyeol. There had been signs of the older man in the apartment. The ashtray that only served its purpose when Jongin wasn’t home, and the dirty cups with coffee remnants in the sink, but Jongin hadn’t physically met with the dragon. Now he did, he wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to act.
His large brown eyes have traveled down, lower lip sucked between his teeth as a nervous gesture. “Good,” he replies hoarsely after a beat of silence, “the classes are interesting, the professors nice. You could enroll soon.” Jongin wants to offer showing the elder around campus, maybe assist him with picking a major for the next few years, but the words of genuine kindness seem to be unable to spill past his lips.
"So," he finally looks up, only barely meeting Chanyeol’s eye. Although it’s been less than two weeks, there’s something different about him. It’s as if Chanyeol has grown a little bit, while Jongin indulged himself with his studies. Jongin realizes a little too late he hasn’t finished his sentence, and his cheeks burn with a fierce red. "What about you? What have you been doing while I was out??"
It feels very uncomfortable now, now that Jongin is here and he probably wouldn’t go before Chanyeol has the chance to compose himself again. He just saw him getting out of the latter’s room after whispering those words that he never thought he’d let himself say and surprised when the figure actually showed up after he got a glimpse of what was his. “Nothing, really.” he shrugs his shoulders, albeit the fact that all he does is to smoke, drink coffee and read, he doesn’t really go out for a chance that he might see Jongin when he comes home but whenever he does, Chanyeol had fallen asleep in the couch.
"I’m possibly going to take arts, or something." even though he rarely thinks about it, he still tries to make up his mind on what major and course to take in the same university which Jongin entered a few weeks prior to his, he still hasn’t made his mind up yet but he’s sure that whatever it is that he’s taking, he needs it to be as enjoying as how he wants his daily life to be. "I’m thinking about getting astronomy, you know how I like stars." he glances out from the window, but there aren’t much stars in the sky that time. "Whatever it is, I’m sure I can make up my mind before the end of the month." he says, and it’s probably the longest conversation he has with Jongin.
Chanyeol takes a step back, walking to the living room table and grabs his box of cigarettes and his jacket from the rack behind the door, and wears his shoes. “I’ll go take a walk outside. It’s kind of—suffocating.” it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like talking to him, in anyway, but there’s a large portion inside his chest that he doesn’t seem to know how he can act around Jongin when there’s that distant space between them that he doesn’t know where it came from. “I’ll come back before midnight, or something.”