Chapter Five
The Promises of Nocturne

For reasons he was unable to comprehend at two thirty in the morning Key found himself lying awake in bed staring up at the ceiling. He had woken up about half an hour earlier when a sharp pain in his wrist suddenly appeared in his dream; it was still aching with a throb but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get up and take a painkiller. Instead, he opted to stare at the ceiling and have deep, philosophical thoughts about his life and what exactly it was he wanted (because what else was there to do in the middle of the night?)

The philosophical nonsense was cut short when his stomach spoke for his mind and gave a loud growl. He rolled over and clenched his eyes shut; he hadn’t eaten very much at dinner a few hours earlier. Heechul had promised to talk to Donghae and Mir tomorrow so they had still shot him dirty looks when Heechul wasn’t looking. Key found it a little distressing to have an appetite when the looks could kill but he was regretting it now.

Knowing that there was nobody else awake at this house he threw his legs over the bed and stood up, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back like a cat, yawning loudly; it was time to go scavenge for food in the kitchen. He quietly tiptoed out of his room and slowly creeped down the stairs, careful not to step on the squeaky third stair that might wake anyone up. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs he noticed that there was someone in the kitchen. One of the lights was on and he could see a shadow moving across the floor. Slightly annoyed that his midnight expedition was ruined, Key stalked into the kitchen to see who it was.

What he found was definitely not something he had ever expected to see. Standing at the counter was Kibum, in the midst of making something that looked like a complete mess.

“What are you doing?” Key asked with a frown, walking over to expect what the strange member of the household was up to. There were bowls filled with brown goo and what looked like flour on the counter. He thought his presence might startle Kibum but the latter merely turned around and looked at him with a clouded look in his eyes.

“Makin’ brownies. Yum.” Kibum said slowly, looking down at the oven longingly.

Key grimaced in disgust at him. There was chocolate batter staining his t-shirt and flour on his top lip. He had no doubt that Kibum had absolutely no home skills and knew nothing about working in a kitchen – not even cleaning up after himself.

“Well, were you planning on