A/N: So, this is a ficlet I wrote today. I wanted to play around with tense and style, and this is what resulted :)

--------

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

The question is simple, almost boringly so. It’s one of the many clichés that pop up on Seunghyun’s Tumblr every day; quandaries and deepities typed in garish fonts, reblogged by various and sundry teenage girls and boys all desperate to answer it themselves. And Seunghyun is one of them, as loathe as he is to admit it. He’s underemployed and on his way to destitute. If he can pay his rent this month, it will be a bona fide miracle.

But he’s not afraid of losing his apartment and being forced to live on the streets. The one thing Seunghyun is afraid of, truly afraid of, is another boy. An angel, really. An angel with fiery red hair and a smile so bright sometimes it physically pains him to be its recipient. He fell in love with him at some point, and the thought causes his heart to pound with anxiety as much as it does affection. It may seem silly to be afraid of a being that represents all things pure and good in the world, but Seunghyun is a realist just as much as he is a romantic. He realizes that underneath all the smiles and cheer the other boy is just that -a boy. A boy with his own secrets and imperfections. It terrifies him to think about entrusting another flawed human being with his heart, but he knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the benefits could so far outweigh the risk as to make the two laughably incomparable. But it’s the fear, the what ifs, that have held him back for so long.

Not today.

Today, the question has popped up on his Tumblr dashboard for the final time without him having an answer. Today, Seunghyun is going to march down to the Starbucks, order his usual venti mocha latte, make a confession, and hope the boy rejects him kindly. He can’t see his sudden declaration of love being met with anything other than that, but he’s gathered enough courage to face his almost assured refusal with dignity. He won’t cry, anyway. Maybe.

He takes a shower, throws on a comfortable outfit, and tells himself he’s not afraid. It is his mantra. By the time he reaches the coffee shop, he believes it. The second he sees the boy behind the counter, however, his stomach turns itself inside out, and fear tries to worms its way back into him. But he takes several deep breaths, tells himself there is nothing to be afraid of today, and the octopus of panic that has wrapped itself around his heart lets go one er at a time.

The boy’s name is Jiyong, and he shines like a beacon in the sea of bland, boring faces that make up the early morning crowd. Seunghyun joins the line. It takes almost ten minutes for him to finally reach the counter, but the wait is bearable because Jiyong makes goofy faces at him the entire time.

“You working today?” the red-haired angel asks as soon as Seunghyun is in front of the register.

“Nah. They cut my hours again,” he replies, feeling very proud of the fact that his heart hasn’t lodged itself in his throat, preventing him from speaking like it sometimes does when Jiyong’s around. He is not afraid. He is not afraid.

“I could talk to my manager, see if we could use an extra pair of hands.”

Seunghyun’s mind instantly wanders to thoughts of him and the beautiful boy working together behind the counter of the coffee shop. He’d never get anything done; he’d be too busy staring at him. Like he was doing now.

“So, the usual?”

Finally he blinks, and things snap back into focus. He’s come here for a reason, and it’s not to embarrass himself in front of Jiyong. Well, not this early on. He steels his nerves. He is not afraid.

“Yeah, I’ll take the usual, and, uh… five minutes of your time when you get a break?”

Jiyong gives him a curious look, but by the time he’s finished ringing in the order, he’s nodding his head and flashing perfectly straight, white teeth at him.

“Sure. My next break isn’t for another hour, though.”

“That’s alright; I can wait.”

He doesn’t tell him he’d wait all day just to say hello to him. Doesn’t let the boy know he’d stand outside in the snow until the shop closed if that’s what it took to have a moment in his presence. He wasn’t afraid, but he wasn’t quite that brave, either. Seunghyun pays for his coffee, and when Jiyong hands it to him five minutes later, it’s with another sunny smile.

He grabs the last open chair in the very back corner of the store in order to wait. Preparation and forethought were never really his thing, so it’s no surprise he walked out of his apartment without even considering he might need to bring something to entertain himself. Daydreams are plenty entertaining, though, so he slumps down in the plush confines of his lounger and thinks of every possible outcome to the situation in which he’s about to find himself. He does it alphabetically, starting, of course, with A: for anger. But he can’t imagine Jiyong being mad at him for being a lovestruck fool, so he moves on to B: for bemusement. By the time the boy who occupies his every thought is occupying his personal space, Seunghyun has gone through the entire alphabet twice, and is now back to P: for pleased. His heart stutters a bit at the redhead’s nearness. Jiyong jerks his thumb, and Seunghyun tosses his empty cup into the trash and follows him outside into the blistering cold.

The barista pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and offers one of the sweet-smelling sticks to him. He gratefully accepts, and the boy lights them both up. There’s only a moment of semi-awkward silence before Seunghyun decides it’s now or never. What would he do if he weren’t afraid? He would confess his feelings to this adorable creature –an angel who smokes and wears eyeliner and has a laugh that can make even the worst of days seem like Christmas morning.

He. Is. Not. Afraid.

“So, I wanted to tell you something. You don’t have to say anything, but if you could just hear me out…”

Jiyong in a lungful of nicotine-laced smoke, then grins at Seunghyun as he blows it back out of his nose. He looks like a little dragon.

“I’m all ears.”

Seunghyun takes one quick drag of his own cigarette, the action itself calming his nerves more than the miniscule bit of nicotine, and then he opens his mouth.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve- I’ve liked you for a really long time. Like liked you. Ever since you started working here, actually. Your hair was pink back then, and I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the first time you smiled at me.”

He glances over at Jiyong, hoping there is anything other than a look of disgust or horror on his pretty face. What he sees makes him catch his breath. The boy is still grinning at him, cigarette forgotten and dangling from his fingers. So he continues.

“Um, I… sometimes I come here even when I can’t afford to buy coffee, because it’s the only way I’ll see you. Sometimes seeing you smile is the only thing that gets me through the bad days, and I’ve had a lot of those lately.”

“I noticed you’ve been coming around more often,” Jiyong murmurs quietly, voice as soft as the freshly fallen snow that lines the edges of the parking lot. “And smiling less.”

For a moment, Seunghyun is stunned. That Jiyong has noticed anything about him other than the fact that he must really love coffee blows his mind. He stares at his shoes, attempting to collect the bits of grey matter that have just leaked from his ears. When he looks up again, the scarlet-haired siren is studying him, almond-shaped eyes tracing every line on his face as though it were fine art. His gives the other boy a watery grin. Well, that had gone just about as well as he could have expected. He takes one more deep pull from his cancer stick, then stubs it out on the wet sidewalk.

“Anyway, thanks for listening. I’ll let you get back to work, now.”

But Jiyong reaches out and grabs the sleeve of his coat, cold fingers sliding down the material until they come into contact with his own.

“I still have ten minutes left on my break,” he says with a smile Seunghyun feels aimed right at his heart. “Stay with me?”

Forever, he wants to say. Always. He’s not even sure why he feels the way he does about the boy, or he can’t articulate it, anyway, but he knows it’s sincere. It’s as real and true as anything he’s ever felt, and he smiles right back at Jiyong, fingers closing around his smaller ones. Seunghyun is giddy. He is lighter than air. He might just float away if the boy at his side lets go of his hand.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

Seunghyun finds his answer in the upward tilt of an angel’s lips.