Ravi swallowed thickly as he unlocked the door to Taekwoon's apartment. He had decided to stay there that night, not wanting to go home to his own place. It just felt so lonely there.  

He threw his keys onto the kitchen counter and got a can of beer from the fridge, throwing himself down onto the sofa. A coma... He took a long swig from the can and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "What the-" He scowled and sat back up, still looking at the ceiling in awe. Stars. Stars all over the white surface; painted in soft yellows and oranges. The shapes were irregular and clumsy, there were places where the paint was thicker than other places, but they were there. How had he never noticed this? Had he really never looked up since he started coming here? Or maybe he had never looked close enough. They hadn't always been there, he was sure.

A smile wrestled itself onto his lips and he felt a giggle fall from his mouth. Stars. It was so Taekwoon. 

He got to his feet and wandered round for a while, trying to take in as much of the apartment as possible to see if there was anything else he might have missed in his previous visits. For a while, he found nothing out of the ordinary for Taekwoon's home- the books were still in the shower, the coffee cup was still sitting on the vinyl player, and his chair- the unusual one with the small table attached like on a school desk- was still in the corner. 

Ravi treaded over to it carefully, brushing his fingers lightly over the laptop and the dents in the suface of the table. A thin layer of dust coated his skin. He took a deep breath and sat down in the seat, hearing it creak slightly under his weight. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he had imagined. But it still wasn't something he could sit in for too long for fear of damaging his spine. 

He was about to get up and go back to his beer when something caught his eye: a draw underneath the top of the desk. He stared at it for a long time before finally deciding to open it, part of him scared of upsetting Taekwoon by touching his work. There was nothing much in it. Just a single brown package tied with a white string to keep the paper in place. He took it out and turned it over curiously. Nothing was written on it to indicate who it was intended for but there was a small clue. A star, drawn just as messily as the ones on the ceiling, sketched in biro in the corner.

Biting his lip, he tore open the packagi