Ryeowook glanced up at the clock that hung high up on the wall across him. Slumping his shoulders, he allowed himself to fall backwards onto the bed, humming a random tune to keep himself entertained. He heard several whispers coming from downstairs where Heechul and his friend were situated, before they eventually escalated to the point of yelling. Finding the entire conversation —or at least the bits and pieces he could pick up every now and then— rather hilarious, the youngest of the three let a sly smile form on his lips. 

For some reason, Yesung had been rather calm throughout his interactions with the young brunette, and even managed to engage in small talk until Heechul mentioned how he’d ended up in the house. From then on, Yesung’s attitude did a complete 180 and he began interrogating the smaller man, which explained why the poor boy was now being locked in Heechul’s room facing the ceiling. To be honest, Ryeowook didn’t really mind the situation that much. After all, he’d never been allowed into the blonde man’s room, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious. After all, how one decorates their private space can be a rather huge giveaway as to what kind of person they are. 

Heechul had warned him not to go through any of his stuff and/or engage in anything that resembled snooping around, but Ryeowook decided he probably wasn’t going to keep to that rule. Yeah, curiosity kills the cat, but Ryeowook wasn’t new to this and he was rather confident that the man would never find out, which was why he straightened up suddenly and slowly crept his way over to what he assumed to be the owner’s wardrobe. Flinging the wooden doors open, the young male gawked at the sheer amount of clothing there was in there, and instantly concluded that in addition to being a diva, Kim Heechul was a fashionista.

”So you’re telling me, that kid over there showed up on your doorstep shivering, crying and telling you he’s been chased and you just let him stay.”

“Yes.” Heechul sighed, rolling his eyes at the number of times he’d repeated that one word to his paranoid friend. Yesung continued squinting at him, and Heechul almost laughed out loud at him. 

Almost.

It wasn’t entirely ungrounded judgement anyway, since Yesung didn’t have large eyes to begin with and therefore ended up looking, in Heechul’s eyes, like an old grandfather who’d lost his spectacles and was having an intense stare war with the wall. Snorting at the image he’d conjured up in his mind, the man turned his attention to the top of the stairwell. While he didn’t expect the younger male to stir up any trouble or try anything funny, he still wasn’t 100% sure about whether or not he could actually trust the male. After all, it had only been less than a day since he ‘adopted’ the lost child. 

“—AND YOU STILL… Heechul? Hyung are you even listening to me anymore?”

Glancing back at the frowning male, Heechul simply let out a low hum before twirling his hair between his fingers, staring uninterestedly at his nails. “You think I should get them done?”

“What?”

“My nails.” Heechul mumbled thoughtfully, raising his bony fingers till they were level with his eyes. “Should I paint them black? Or maybe red.”

“Hyung, this really shouldn’t be on your list of concerns right now.” Yesung sighed, running a hand down his face as he groaned in protest, turning to look pleadingly at his companion. “And neither should poor innocent Ryeowook be.” 

Evidently, his actions did little to make the feminine blonde waver, and he audibly, albeit sarcastically, cheered for his failed attempt yet again. Smirking to himself, Heechul simply continued observing his fingers and hands, scrunching up his nose every now and then to Yesung’s chagrin.

“Now, if you’re done whining about my new guest, do me a favor and go get him back down here before he gets bored and begins searching through my stuff.” Heechul ordered, poki