"Cookies are on the table. — Kihyun."

Being wide awake in the early—very early—hours in the morning didn't seem to different, even if a newcomer had walked into his life (quite literally) just a few days ago. After the confrontation, Changkyun almost couldn't find the sight of him for long—he was busy with his work until late—and Changkyun rarely went to other places other than his dorm after university.

He'd lived very closely to his university—only a few metres away by walking—but he was the only few people who had his own apartment around. 

Nothing has been left touched, except for the fridge near the dining table. Not only the blue paper still remained there clear as day, but two new, pink papers caught his attention. And then he turned back to see the sight of five large cookies on the table. Then it clicked on him; the house smelled awfully buttery and sweet. The cookies looked slightly too new to be done by a few hours ago. Then it hit him; Kihyun should be awake by now. He glanced at another pink paper and groaned. It's four.

Changkyun aimlessly chewed on the round, large cookies at the table, his stomach slowly fulfilling the scorching hunger of a busy med student. It didn't take too long before he found himself searching for the remaining crumbs on the porcelain plate, gooey chocolate combines and slowly melt with the tangy dough. It tasted slightly too sweet for his likening — but crunchy and light that he was willing to admit that Kihyun's cookies are tasty. For the first time.

But then his enjoyment was ruined when he heard footsteps and a door being gently closed—Kihyun quietly closed his room and approached the dining table, but not without making an eye contact with the eating Changkyun. The latter looked surprised, and turned away, but Kihyun had a mischevious grin in his face.

"Good morning," the older faked a yawn, his tone snarky. The dark hours in between three to four A.M. didn't suit a normal morning scenery, but Changkyun couldn't really care less. "I see you enjoyed the temporary breakfast."

"No, not really," Changkyun scoffed, but Kihyun saw his eyes reverted to the plate. "lacks milk."

"I'll buy some later, 'kay? Just not today," Kihyun yawned, this time real. His eyes were heavy, and he didn't like the state of being stared by Changkyun. He gently got up and Changkyun could hear the sound of the door being gently clicked. He knew he should be getting a go too.

"Some homemade ramen at the counter. I'll be there soon. P.S. Is the drawer in your desk locked? I might need them. — Kihyun."

Changkyun flipped through the pages of his textbooks, almost uncertain of what to do. Medical terms and meanings didn't quite get onto his head even after he'd repeated them. The clock's long needle edged closer towards the number nine, and the house had no sound but the thunderous echo of raindrops booming around the lush beige walls. A steamed bowl of ramen laid cold in the middle of the table, and Changkyun could only stare at it. His stomach growled for an ounce of food, but after the morning incident, the possible scene of him being busted again seemed too embarassing to bear with.

The apartment looked much emptier than he thought—although he'd lived there as long as he remembered—possibly spacier than what it had looked like. There used to be at least two more people living in the apartment; it's never crowded or blissful, but something else in his heart made him recall those days. 

Elaborate kitchen sets had been removed when he would've pulled them out just for the sake of eating, or when he went home, the sound of something being cut, or water boiling... but most of all, possibly the smell of chamomile tea accompanying her voice.

"Changkyun, go take a rest! You must be tired after getting to school."

"It's okay, alright? Just because you had one bad grade doesn't mean you're stupid."

A snap in his heart brought him back to his room, as he looked around the living room; then he stood up, and walked towards Kihyun's room. As he gently opened the door, a burst of fresh chamomile scent filled in; even after Kihyun had stayed after ten days, her presence was still felt. 

The room was the smallest room from the three rooms of the apartment, barely fitting in a small wardrobe, a small study, and a clean, pinkish mattress. 

"It's alright. I'd rather be here than going around as a homeless person, Changkyun-ah." the night afterwards, she slept quietly, serenely, at the room. 

The room barely had a few more places to freely stretch and walk in, but as Changkyun scooted closer to the study desk, most of the trash had been either thrown out or kept anywhere but the books; except for one hard-covered book and several pens scattered around the paper. Changkyun's not too bothered, glancing only very quickly before pulling the drawer below; it's locked.

Changkyun sighed. He wouldn't pull off the key had Kihyun not remind him; but something in him forced him to open it. There wasn't any other noises outside, but so that's the only time he'd have. 

Gently opening the drawer, he picked up three things; a lavender notebook, white scented candle, and a slipped photo in between the notes. He quietly stared at it; a young woman was holding a smiling young boy. On the left side, the date "26-01-1999" and a hand signature were written in silver marker.

He felt his knees weakened; his heart ached for a reason, but he then heard of a sound of a clicking the door, and immediately picked all of them up, hurriedly running towards the door. 

On the way to his room, he saw a glimpse of Kihyun's reflect, but he couldn't care. He could feel something staring at him for a while, but decided to ignore it, trying desperately to hold the hot tears at the brim of his eyes.