A/N - Just in case it's confusing, the grey parts are flashbacks :)

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Chapter 2 – Rain sound

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

Are you awake too? Are you listening?

 

It drips and it drops. It collides with the window and leaves a splatter on the glass. The traces left behind are the endless sky in shades of grey and the splashes that make you shiver. Soundly yet so cunningly, it inhales the heat from the air and exhales the cold on your skin.  

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

 It’s the sound of rain.

 

The rain falls from the sky and some people say that it’s crying. They call the droplets descending to the ground ‘tears from above’ and you know what? They might be just right. After all, there has always been something beautiful, in a twisted and harsh way about someone crying.

 

And rain is beautiful.

 

It’s cold yet also magnificent, and one can only guess how powerful it can be.

 

But then, why does it rain?

 

… why is it crying?

 

The mighty cover above looks down on all the people; it sees everything and hears everything. Maybe it becomes too full. Full of disappointment, anger and fear, humans are after all… only human. Then when it becomes too heavy, when the droplets of water commence a losing battle against gravity…

 

It rains.

 

***

 

Youngjae stood by his window, still covered in his pyjamas he leaned against the cold of the panes and gazed out over a city drenched in lifeless colors. Behind the gentle clattering against the glass he absentmindedly watched people prepare to open their shops or vendors for yet another day. His eyes blinked, stubbornly drawing contours of the surrounding through a blurry vision. An old lady and someone else, probably her son struggled to set up the stand under the drizzling rain. It must be a form of punishment, Youngjae thought as he observed them when they almost tripped over. The raw drizzling rain was just enough to keep one shivering under the open sky, but not enough to make one stay buried in the warmth indoors for the day. It hits softly, barely enough for you to bring an umbrella but mockingly enough to make you wish you could have one.

 

In his reflection, there was a bitter smile stretched languidly across lips that were no doubt his own.

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

It was more than enough to lock one up in anxiety.

 

A punishment it is.

 

It must have been minutes, twenty or so since Youngjae got transfixed by the toneless weather when the faint voices outside his door carried through the thin layers of wood.

 

“Oppa, what are you doing tonight?” the high-pitched voice, belonging to the nameless girl crept on his door like he imagined her manicured nails scratching down Daehyun chest. “Come over to my place…” there was a pause and Youngjae snorted at whatever she retorted to in hopes of seducing an unbreakable man. Did she flutter her eyelashes, twirl the long dark hair round a delicate finger or perhaps she was smiling sinfully? No, he figured… she was kissing him.

 

In her head, she must have already pictured something more, something in the likes of a relationship and is impatiently waiting for a confirmation. Like many others she would be gleeful and most likely thinking that a kiss would seal Jung Daehyun to her. A real catch. True, it was a good move – good but useless all the same.

 

The symbolic intimacy embracing a kiss has long been scaled down to the point it wasn’t anything beyond the action itself. To Jung Daehyun, a kiss was nothing but an act of ignition, a thin candle sparkle up one’s shallow desires.

 

“I can’t.” Youngjae tried to repress the usual shudder running down his spine at Daehyun’s voice. Somehow the deep and husky tone always got to him. Always.

 

He approached the bedroom door separating the pair from him, exchanging the cold of the window against his side to polished wood sensitively pressed against his ear. Silently and somewhat shameless he intruded on a private conversation between a desperate and reluctant soul.

 

Youngjae had expected Daehyun’s reply. But the sense of relief in the form of a soft ribbon still laced around him upon hearing the words out loud.  Round and round it trailed over his body and tightened itself around his neck… the relievement was dark and hardened by traces of apprehension. On either end of the band it pulled, the process was slow, sometimes even merciful but someday he would still cease to breathe.

 

‘I can’t’, ‘I won’t’ or a simple ‘No’. Only Daehyun would say those words without further explanations.

 

Why couldn’t he, why wouldn’t he or why he refused to say ‘yes’… he wouldn’t let anyone have closure by telling them. String them along, love him, hate him – as long as the battle went on the more land would he conquer. The more powerful he would get.

 

There was a long whine echoing through the whole apartment when Youngjae looked down at his bare feet, awaiting the inevitable. He wiggled his toes slightly as the voices outside gradually faded indicating a growth in distance between them. Soon, he thought, soon it would be over.

 

“Call me, then?” Would probably be the last thing to be heard from the young woman. The last as in the last.  

 

Jung Daehyun was a man of sweet words, a man that possessed the ability to know exactly what to say to make your heart flutter. He strums your heartstrings into a tune only he can sing to. It may be truthful or it may be full of lies, either way, it becomes your favorite song. The one you put on repeat, the one you hum to every second of the day— no matter how much you try not to. Therefore, when he says ‘I will’ into the earphones disconnecting you from the world you’ll blindingly hold on to it. Hang on it for dear life.

 

But to keep a promise alive, that kind of commitment wasn’t and probably never will be one of the things a man like Daehyun was capable of.

 

A brief goodbye and she was out the door. That was all there was to it, a short moment and she would soon be replaced by another forgettable person. He was used to it.

 

Yoo Youngjae was used to the numbness the corrupted game brought.

 

His feet moved soundlessly against the cold tiles of the floor, approaching the open kitchen connected to their livingroom. The back of a lean figure greeted him in the early daylight and Youngjae stopped in his track. He couldn’t help but notice how the light hit Daehyun’s bare upper body so mesmerizingly. It shimmered over sunkissed skin, lingering on all the right places above the waistline of the other’s shorts and consequently rendered Youngjae’s throat to thicken dangerously. Even in his state of mind, his ach he still found Daehyun beautiful.

 

And he foolishly allowed himself to be blinded… to live in the moment of blissful ignorance. Because if he truly opened his eyes, nothing would stop him from seeing the marks and evidence of last night’s event all over that warm body… and it would with certainty tear up another wound on his fragile soul.

 

Daehyun moved clumsily in the kitchen, boxes and jars were left open here and there as he reheated the untouched food from the previous night.

 

With a small shake of his head, Youngjae tried to pull himself together and gain back his composure.  He then went to silently collect the dirty dishes one by one to the sink and he was determined, completely set on not to fall into the trance-like state again. Distantly, he let the water run over the pile of cutlery, plates and bowls and neglected the lukewarm splashes forming a pattern of circles on his t-shirt.

 

“Well, good morning to you too.” Daehyun muttered unexpectedly, causing Youngjae stiffen. “What’s with the cold shoulder?”

 

In his periphery vision he could see how Daehyun was leaning casually against the counter, arms folded over his chest and eyes piercing straight through side of his head. Then there was that tone. Youngjae eyes fluttered shut… he hated that tone. The one knowing, the one firing ammunitions so cunningly.

 

“You couldn’t sleep last night, or what?” Daehyun smirked. “Were we that loud?”

 

Youngjae turned off the water tap, suddenly not feeling like cleaning up the other’s mess anymore. His hands then clenched tightly round the edges of the kitchen counter as he took a deep breath, gearing himself to at least put up a struggle.

 

“I’m fine. It’s not the first time you brought home one of your groupies.” His voice sharpened as his eyes locked to the water-filled sink. It’s not the first or the second or third. He had seen so many of them, girls and boys alike brought home after a night out. So many of them thrown aside in the way he feared he someday would be too. “Well done though, this one was actually really pretty.”

 

Youngjae  blinked as he followed the silence that overtook the air between them. Under the other’s intense gaze, he felt exposed… to the core and he tried not to shiver.

 

Daehyun’s warm hand reached for Youngjae’s face, his fingers brushed over Youngjae’s chin and then held it firmly in an attempt to turn his face towards his. “If you’re fine then why are you making such a face?”

 

He had told himself not to look; over and over he repeated it in his head. But like always, during the times were determination was the key… he wavered.

 

And it cost him. A lot.

 

The hand on his chin moved to cup his cheek, drawing him in so easily it was frightening. A touch from Daehyun would every so often shift between warm and cold, yet it felt right even when it was supposed to be wrong.

 

He dared to take a step closer, tilted his head into the caress and lifted his hand to hold the one holding onto him. “Because sometimes I wish I knew you better.” Softly, his lips brushed against the inside of Daehyun’s wrist.

 

‘I want to know the real color of your eyes.’

 

He wanted to understand.

 

If he knew Jung Daehyun better, then maybe he would know if the other felt some kind of satisfaction in repulsing love the way he did. Did he feel safe, empty, both or neither?

 

And most importantly…

 

‘I want to know why you ask me to stay even during the times you so persistently hurt me.’

 

Was he to be forgotten too?

 

Daehyun’s eyes narrowed, holding true to their impressiveness as they revealed nothing and then the hand that has been Youngjae’s cheek fell to disconnect them altogether. “You regret it, don’t you?” Something in the low growl made Youngjae think there was a hint of expectation —accusing even. “You regret saying that you love me.”

 

Youngjae took half a step back and managed to give the other a faint smile before he wrapping his mind round the cold statement.

 

Regret, did he regret it?

 

It was so hard to tell…

 

‘On certain days the sky would seem unusually clear, the blue color shone so brightly and to think that it could shift into anything between grey and black seemed unreal. With not a cloud in the sky, no barriers hiding dangerous hail from human eyes, it suddenly felt safer to simply live. And maybe that was why some people found themselves a little bit more courageous on such days. Full of warmth and hope… they dared to dream.

 

“Hey Daehyun,” Youngjae went to stand next to the boy that for the day looked impeccable in a full suit on the rooftop. He leaned over the railings and followed Daehyun’s gaze over their high school yard for the last time. One last moment to reminisce before they would along with 200 fellow students take a step on the path of becoming respectful adults. “If you could be reborn again, what would you like to come back as?”

 

“Reborn?” the other asked distantly as he out of habit darted his tongue out to moisten his lips. “A moth probably.”

 

“Really?” Youngjae said, mildly surprised and turned his head to study the boy beside him. “Why?”

 

Daehyun met his gaze and held it while a small smile graced his lips. “Moths have this fascination with the flame; they circle around it as if drawn by an unexplainable force. I guess, I’m curious… why do they always fly closer when know they’ll get burned.”

 

Why, indeed…

 

“Maybe that’s what they live to do,” Youngjae said softly. “Flying towards the burning light might be the moment they feel the happiest.”

 

Daehyun stared at him for a long while. “That’s just foolish.” He finally said smiling faintly as if he knew better.

 

The sky was serene, perfectly clear and utterly wonderful.

 

“Hey Daehyun, do you think I’m a fool?” It was a good day, Youngjae thought — to be brave. “I… I really love you.”’

 

… but sometimes…

 

“I think I do.”

 

He was withering, under Daehyun’s piercing gaze he thought he would eventually shrink into a pile of ashes. But the expression on the other’s face soon changed entirely, unreadable and distant. The corner of his lips twitched to slowly form the characteristic smirk that made Youngjae’s breath hitch in expectancy of grief. “Good.”

 

Youngjae remained still when Daehyun sharply turned his back on him to return to the microwave that had long tinkled.

 

How do you stop the distance between unequal souls from growing?

 

‘What do I have to endure to be closer to you?’

 

Daehyun put his meal on a tray and disappeared to his room. The door closed soundly after him while Youngjae placed his hand on his chest and for minutes he just stood there, relieved that it was still rising.

 

He turned back to the dishes and let the water tap run again, suddenly feeling the need to erase the silence coating the walls.

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

‘What should I do for us to breathe together?’

 

***

 

There will always be certain things in life you wish you had control over. For instance, who you fall in love with and who loves you back. Life would be so much easier, peaceful as guaranteed happiness was in the palm of your hand.

 

The person you love would love you back tenfold. And it would be beautiful. Utterly glorious.

 

Then in case your life worked a chapter in some unknown history book, no one would stare at the pages in confusion and ask ‘why?’…

 

As in ‘Why do you love this person?’

 

But since Youngjae didn’t rule over love, it happened, it happened all the time. And the one most in wonder and eager to know was none other than… Yoo Youngjae, himself.

 

‘Why do I love you?’

 

The answer was always the same, abstract yet definite. No room for alteration.

 

While growing up, there will be several people you know that you love:  your mom, your dad and your brothers and sisters. After them came the long line of relatives. So then ‘why’? Why do you love these people? You can fight, be at each other’s throats or abandon each other but there will always be a part of you that loves them. For them you’re prepared to give up anything and everything.

 

Why?

 

Perhaps, humans are pre-installed to be like that. You are meant to love those linked to you.

 

Youngjae loved his parents unconditionally, because they were his parents.

 

He loved his brother dearly, because as nagging as the other sometimes was, he was still his brother.

 

And that person…

 

Youngjae loved him, because that person was Jung Daehyun…

 

someone who stole bits of his heart since a long time back.

 

‘Youngjae never minded staying behind after the bell rang, for recess or for announcing the end of yet another day. He liked to stay in the classroom and sometimes when the teacher asked him to clean the chalkboard he would diligently do so.

 

With a sponge soaked in water he would erase not only the letters but also every sign of white chalk he could spot. He had a pattern, starting from the outermost corners and from there he gradually moved to the center until the board was completely clean. He liked it; frankly he liked to carry out things where the result could be clearly seen. The result of studying could be seen in the form of testscores and the chalkboard would go from white-ish to its distinctive mixture of green and black. It was pretty he thought, the efforts of a person.

 

The cheerful laughter and chatter skipping through the open window was sometimes distracting, actually high school served many distractions but Youngjae always managed to fulfill his pattern. He was innocent like that.

 

His arm made a half-circle motion, took one swipe over the last area of white before he put the sponge away and looked at the board contently.

 

“Oh well, look at you.” His head snapped to this side, bewilderedly greeting the owner of the sudden intrusion. Daehyun was leaning against the doorframe, seeming certainly pleased with his arms full of cellophane wrapped and fresh baked cookies. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where the boy had been. The girls in Home Economics class were all sighing longingly after Jung Daehyun, and Daehyun liked them too for an obvious reason or two. The newly arrived boy skipped into the empty classroom, saved for Youngjae and hopped to sit on the desk by the front, directly opposite to where Youngjae stood. “Blatantly up to the teachers huh,” even with his mouth full, the other didn’t fail to deliver a teasing grin.

 

Youngjae looked away knowing that he didn’t have anything good to say, a simple ‘No, I’m not’ didn’t sound all that convincing, even in his own ears. With others there would be no problem for a clever reply to shoot up in his head. But with Daehyun they always seemed to come afterwards, hours later when he lay on his bed going through every detail of their interaction. And it would be in the likes of: ‘Ah, I should have said this’ or ‘I should have done that’ and ‘He probably would be…’.

 

It was ridiculous, really, how his mind was malfunctioning.

 

“Hey, want one?”

 

He turned around to face Daehyun again; warily, he took in the sight of the other smiling holding a bag of cookies in his outstretched hand. He must have staring, Youngjae realized, and taking too long for the other’s liking because Daehyun raised a brow impatiently and pressed: “You know, I don’t often share, especially things that are edible. So this is me being extremely generous. Want one or not?”

 

Youngjae lifted his gaze and their eyes met. He held them; he truly wanted to hold them for as long as he could. But unfortunately, that meant for only a couple of minutes.

 

Daehyun took Youngjae’s silence as a ‘no’, he pulled back his hand and was quick in shoving another cookie in his mouth. “Yah, I went through a lot of trouble to get these. I don’t hand out kisses to anyone, you know.”

 

The boy spoken to could feel his eyes widen into round coins, “Kiss?” he gasped as his eyes landed on Daehyun’s full lips.

 

 “Yes, kiss. You know—“ he chuckled and pursed his lips while making obnoxious kissing sounds in the air. “What’s with your reaction? It’s not as if you haven’t kissed anyone before.” Daehyun grinned.

 

But the grin soon widened into something far more teasing and amused when Youngjae kept on staring at Daehyun’s lips, his cheeks slowly gaining color due to unwanted heat.

 

Youngjae cleared his throat and quickly looked away. “That’s none of your business.” He threw a quick glance at his school bag hanging by his desk, and wondered if he should just grab it and run home like the majority of the students already had.

 

“Wow, you really haven’t,” the other said in disbelief. “Why? Are you waiting for a none-existent special someone?”

 

“Shut up,” he muttered under his breath and decided it was time to leave before the other could make further fun of him.

 

His steps had just past the seated Daehyun when a strong hand around his arms prevented him from proceeding. “Hey, Youngjae,” the other said, his eyes crinkled charmingly but his intentions were unclear. “That’s actually kind of cute.”

 

“Quit it,” he mumbled and tried to pry his arm out of Daehyun’s grasp. But somewhere in the middle of his struggle, swiftly and so unexpectedly Jung Daehyun with a powerful jerk, pulled him down and to smash their lips together.

 

Wide eyed and frozen, Youngjae remained still as his classmate nibbled on his lip,

 

…claiming his first kiss.

 

Daehyun pulled away and released Youngjae’s arm, but the deed was done, point taken and soul lost.

 

Youngjae stared unblinkingly at Daehyun while the registration of what just happened finally came to him and he could see in the other’s grin how much he enjoyed the amusement the event obviously brought him.

 

“So, how was it?”

 

He knew it was not something to dwell on. The stinging sensation still lingering on his lips was not one those things he should try to remember forever. But considering his heart pounding so crazily behind his ribcage…

 

… he probably would.

 

“Tasted like lemon cookies.”

 

Both sour and sweet at the same time.’

 

Jung Daehyun, someone who put him in combat every single day.

 

‘Tell me…’

 

How does one conquer a chained up heart?

 

 

***

 

Sometimes one has to be daring to make progress. If life doesn’t offer any opportunities than you have to make them yourself, move forward and craft a chance only you can take. Then… then you blow them all away.

 

And you win.

 

It may sound difficult and the stakes too high. But sometimes it had to be done. You sacrifice a knight in order to take out the queen. You lose a handful of soldiers in order to trap the king.

 

Checkmate.

 

It would be worth it.

 

Youngjae sat on the floor in the hallway, legs crossed and back leaning against the wall. His eyes followed Daehyun as he  went to the coffee table to grab his wallet and then to his room to grab his phone. Youngjae was silently watching.

 

The other’s hair was sporting a new color, light brown to be more exact and styled to perfectly frame his sculpted face. Even the clothes had been chosen with more care than usual, judging by the way the tight jeans, black shirt and leather jacket hugged him on the right places there must have been much thought behind the outfit. It wasn’t until Daehyun past right in front of him to put on his shoes that Youngjae noticed the contours of his eyes had been drawn black, enhancing their magnetic pull immensely. That was also the moment he realized Daehyun would come home tonight with someone in his arms. A stranger, an acquaintance, drunk or sober…

 

And his stomach churned.

 

“You sure are intent on getting laid tonight. Put in quite an effort to look good. Why? Have they grown immune to your charms?” Youngjae internally winched when he sensed he had been unable to keep a low growl and hurt from surfacing.

 

It was ridiculous.

 

And apparently Daehyun noticed it too, a grin play on his lips when he turned around to look down on Youngjae. “Are you jealous?” he asked twistingly amused.

 

The back of Youngjae’s head hit the wall behind him as he stared up tiredly. “Why would I be jealous of someone who means nothing?” He lowered his gaze to eventually settle on Daehyun. “Anyone would do, right?”

 

'Anyone can warm the other side of your bed for a night.'

 

“Wow, you wound me.” He placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt then went to squat down right in front of Youngjae. “And to answer your question: no,” he sneered and then added: “Not that I’ve tried but I don’t think I can get it up with a person I’m not the least attracted to.” He made a move to get back on his feet and was almost standing straight when Youngjae’s hand shot up to grab his wrist and gave it firm tug.

 

Unprepared and slightly shocked Daehyun landed clumsily on the floor in a similar position to his captor, his brows furrowed when Youngjae leaned closer and looked straight into his eyes.

 

Sometimes, Youngjae thought, one has to give up almost everything in order to make a small advancement. It was either that or stay prisoner in agony, waiting for doom to knock on the door. Burn his wings, kill him or embrace him… he didn’t want stay hanging in the air anymore.

 

The exhaustion was unbearable.

 

The light… he just wanted to touch it once.

 

“What about me then?” Youngjae whispered. “Would you do it with me?” He had surely lost it, consequences be damned.

 

Daehyun stared at him in utter astonishment, and for the first time Youngjae felt in control. After years of rigorous fighting he finally felt like he had managed to gain the upper hand.

 

This war — when will it end?

 

“No?” He pressed, leaning a tad closer while his grip round Daehyun’s wrist tightened. “Why? Because I’m a guy? But you’ve brought back guys before — I know because they were all really loud…” His eyes were glazed-over, leaving a blurry image of the boy he was now betting his all on. “I could hear how they called out your name, and gasping…”

 

Daehyun made another attempt to break free from the iron grip holding him captive. But Youngjae was stubborn. “Quit it and let me go.” He hissed, but his glare weakened when it fell on Youngjae’s slightly quivering lips.”

 

Swiftly, Youngjae raised himself from the floor to bend forward and press his lips against the base of Daehyun neck. “I— cried those nights,” he whispered against tanned skin.

 

The brunette gasped sharply before he placed his free hand on Youngjae’s chest and pushed him away. He stumbled up on his feet and stared down incredulously at his flatmate who struggled to get up. “What do you think you are doing? Have you lost your mind, gone crazy by all —“

 

 “What am I to you?” Youngjae’s voice was steady, surprising even himself when he stood eyelevel to Daehyun. “If I’m no one, then it wouldn’t be a problem, right?”

 

Something flashed in the brunette’s eyes and at that particular moment Youngjae would give anything, his arm or his leg just to know what it was. Why, he wondered…

 

 ‘Why is it so hard to love someone?’

 

Daehyun turned away, with his hands clenched painfully by his sides. “This is — I’m getting out of here.”

 

If anyone were to ask Youngjae what happened, he wouldn’t know how to answer nor would he know what took over him. But it happened very fast, one second he was watching Jung Daehyun turn on his heels to leave him alone yet again and the next he had the brunette pinned against the door —and they were kissing. Eyes closed as lips mashed against each other furiously, teeth clashed and bruises would probably form where kisses were left. Youngjae opened his mouth and drew Daehyun lip between his and on it delicately. His hands were tangling in Daehyun’s hair, diving between the strands of soft brown locks and it felt right… right and good. He pulled away, broke the kiss but then dived in again when he felt Daehyun’s arms snake round his waist, this time it was softer and gentler. Daehyun let out a tiny whimper as he pulled Youngjae flushed to his body. And there they were, hot and dizzy, almost on the borderline of blacking out.

 

And lost... oh so lost.

 

Youngjae even more so, added with confusion and dread when he moments later opened his eyes feet away from the boy he just held in his arms. The ache lingered on his chest after the harsh push, hitting so much deeper than mere physical pain, but he decided to ignore it. They were both panting, gasping for air that had momentarily been forgotten. While his eyes showed longing, the eyes before him were blazing, firing up dangerously as they promised a reason to suffer.

 

Jung Daehyun was furious.

 

And Youngjae desperately wanted to know why.

 

He could feel himself begin to tremble as he refused to look away. Daehyun’s bottom lip was chapped from the abuse and by the taste of blood in his mouth, his probably looked the same.

 

“You’re right, it’s not a problem.” It was so cold it made Youngjae freeze on the spot. “I just don’t want you.” It was so cruel it smashed him into a thousand pieces.

 

The front door slammed

 

… and he was left to melt and disappear for good.

 

Weak-kneed and out of strength, Youngjae fell to the floor.

 

He had always known that he was a person without much. Yoo Youngjae, he thought was not particularly handsome or charming. The only thing he considered himself good at was in academics, but that was only because he was willing to put hours and hours of effort into it. He didn’t possess a natural talent like some others in singing, dancing or in anything that could make him a national treasure. He was plain, but he thought he could be funny at times. Nice and considerate, but sometimes a bit snarky with a slip of the tongue. In conclusion, he didn’t think of himself as someone spectacular…

 

…  but he never thought it would be so hard for someone to fall in love with him.

 

‘You’re right, I’m jealous. Those people, all of them might have been strangers before and familiar faces afterwards, but at least for a night, an entire night they held your hand and helped you escape to wherever you needed to. And during those couple of hours… they were someone. While I’m not even that…’

 

A bitter laugh cracked through the silence of despair.

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

Why do people cry?

 

The heart contraction  of a human being may seem like something simple. But the simplicity comes from a series of precise and coordinated events. Blood rushes through your veins, reaches and fills the finest capillaries with the essential elements. It blooms in red, until it turns blue at a heart’s infection. Suddenly there’s pain like a drug and… love like poison. Effortlessly, it makes you choke on your own breath. Full of memories and future insecurities your heart burst wide open…

 

‘“Hey Daehyun, do you think I’m a fool? I… I really love you.”

 

Daehyun’s eyes squinted under the sunlight, “Yeah, that’s kind of stupid.” He said before his sigh blended softly with the cool gust of the passing wind. “Now you are going to get burned too.”’

 

Youngjae sank deeper into the grey and tasted the wrecking kind of saltiness on his lips…

 

People cry because they live to love.

 

drip  drop  drip  drop

 

… it’s the sound of rain.

 

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Hi, it has been a long while so I'd be surprised if anyone's still readng this story.

But if you get this far, I thank you for reading and hoped you enjoyed the chapter ^^

 

With lots of love,

Ivy