Sometimes Youngjae wondered that Cupid might not be just blind. He was stupid too.

“How does it feel,” Youngjae looked at Daehyun who was busy copying his homework, “to be the second option?”

Daehyun stopped writing for a moment, lifting his face to look at Youngjae who sat accross him in the college’s library.

“It’s fine,” Daehyun started writing again, as if it was not something big he had to think about, “it makes me happy.”

He didn’t even think before he answers.

Youngjae scoffed, sometimes he didn’t even know what goes into Daehyun’s pretty little head. Daehyun was always that blurred limit of what’s right and wrong, that pretty little color between black and white. But even so, his smile was still the most blinding, his voice was still the most soothing.

Youngjae liked how his eyes glowed under the red sun.

“And you?” Daehyun asked back, staring casually at Youngjae’s eyes while supporting his chin on his right hand, the pen was still tucked between his fingers, “how does it feel?”

“What?”

“To be someone who breaks hearts?”

Youngjae smiled. The kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It’s barely even a year he knew this messy boy in front of him, it’s understanable how Daehyun didn’t know anything about him just yet, especially not when he had never show his deepest thought to anyone.

“Correction,” Youngjae liked the way Daehyun raised one of his eyebrows, “I don’t break hearts. I offer shelter for those whose hearts were broken.”

Daehyun laughed as if it was the funniest thing he ever heard, and Youngjae liked it anyway eventhough he wasn’t joking. Daehyun’s laugh was loud, his eyes crinkled and Youngjae thought he looked like a little kitten.

Youngjae liked kittens.

“You make yourself sound like a hero,”

Youngjae smiled back—it was hard not to, when Daehyun’s laugh rang on his ears like the sound of ringing bells in christmas morning.

“I am not,” Youngjae said. Daehyun had tried to control his laugh when people around them started shushing, “but I’m no villain either.”

The brown haired boy shook his head to nonverbally tell Youngjae that he didn’t believe in what Youngjae said—but Youngjae didn’t mind it. Afterall, Daehyun didn’t believe in a lot of things. He didn’t believe in god, he didn’t believe in angels, and he hardly believe in happiness too.

For Youngjae, Daehyun was mosaic; pieces of light and monochromatic colors, laced with history and a little bit of bitterness, stars and constellation, glued together with magic, musics, and beautiful words.

And Daehyun always called Youngjae a heart breaker.

But there was no way Daehyun could have known, that Youngjae had leave no hearts more broken, than the way he had left his own.

.

.

.

Youngjae felt like he had watched Daehyun sleep for a really long time, that at the end of his observation period, he felt like he could perfectly draw every curves of the slightly older boy’s face.

It was one of many times Daehyun had waited for too long that he ended up falling asleep. He had wear his favorite hoodie, and Youngjae thought Daehyun looked the best in red.

Youngjae wished that Daehyun didn’t have to wait more than four hours to be taken out on a supposedly happy and exciting date. Youngjae wished Daehyun’s red hoodie didn’t have to be crinkled as he slept uncomfortably on Youngjae’s couch, because Daehyun always had this tendency to keep everything neat.

Youngjae didn’t like to see Daehyun’s face fell when he read texts from that person, disappointment could clearly be seen eventhough he tried to hide it from Youngjae.

It was four months since they were together, said Daehyun. Youngjae didn’t respond, he didn’t know how to. He wanted to keep Daehyun from going, he wanted to keep Daehyun from being the third wheel in someone else’s relationship. But that smile he always saw on Daehyun’s lips everytime that person called him, no matter how Youngjae hated the reson behind it, the smile was still his favorite.

“...Youngjae?”

Daehyun was always a light sleeper. Youngjae had to be very careful when he’s drapping a blanket to keep him warm, because Daehyun always ended up opening his eyes even though he would close them again after saying thank you.

But this time, Daehyun didn’t go back to sleep. He reached for his handphone on the glass table in front of the couch, and Youngjae could see his eyes got wider as if something bad had happened.

“Oh my god, Yongguk Hyung called four times,” he was busy running his fingers on the touch screen, he looked slightly panic when he put his phone to his right ear.

“Why don’t you wake me up?” he mouthed to Youngjae as he waited for the person he called to pick up the phone.

“Well, I am not in charge of your phone, Your Majesty.” Youngjae said sarcastically, but Daehyun didn’t even hear it when that person seemed to already picked up.

“Hyung I am sorry I fell asleep,”

Youngjae wondered why Daehyun was the one who had to apologize when that person had stood him up for nearly five hours now. Daehyun shouldn’t be the one who apologize when he’s the one who was probably hurting the most, and Youngjae chose not to look at him when a cheerful smile painted on Daehyun’s lips.

How Youngjae wished he could be the reason behind that blinding smile.

“No, I haven’t had my dinner yet,” he said. Daehyun had refused the food Youngjae offered him, saying that he needed to spare room in his stomach for his dinner with Yongguk. It was 10 AM and Youngjae knew Daehyun had been hungry since hours ago.

“But Hyung, I want pizza,”

Daehyun pouted, and god, Youngjae hated that expression the most and he wondered why a grown up boy could be so cute. It was the way Daehyun showed that he was disappointed—and Youngjae hated it when someone disappoint him because the only time Youngjae ever did, was only when he poured too much water into Daehyun’s cup ramen.

“Really? You promise?”

That sounded happy, full of hope. Youngjae guessed that person had promised Daehyun something else, and Youngjae was beyond sure that he was gonna break the promise all over again. And the thing Youngjae hated the most was, Daehyun would always forgive him.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Daehyun ran his fingers through his messy hair, “yes Hyung, I understand. Yeah.”

Youngjae wished Daehyun would stop waiting for that person in his apartment.

“I love you, Hyung.”

Oh god.

Daehyun put down his phone, disappointment was clearly written all over his face. His aura were dark and sad—not that Youngjae could read the aura or anything, it’s just Daehyun was such an opened book when he was sad, that Youngjae could always tell what happened inside his little head.

“Youngjae...”

Youngjae didn’t answer. He kept watching TV although it was some cheap cooking show that he didn’t like.

“Youngjae I am hungry...,”

Daehyun always looked like a five years old kid when he’s whining.

“So that person cancelled again?” he asked, snarkily.

“Himchan was sick, and Yongguk Hyung had to take care of him.” Daehyun said like it was a normal thing to do, like he was not hurting at all. Like what he had done was right.

“And you?” Youngjae looked at the pouting Daehyun, “who’s gonna take care of you?”

Daehyun’s face changed and Youngjae wished he never said it. That big eyes turned dim and his expression turned flat—Youngjae knew that kind of question makes Daehyun sad, it makes him aware of his fault and he didn’t want that. Not yet.

You