The smell of pancakes and bacon drift into Myungsoo’s nose and it jolts him awake. He hadn’t eaten dinner last night because he spent the majority of it hunting for Sungyeol, and he’s slowly regretting that decision.

 

He sits up on the couch and winces at the pain in his leg, eyes roaming around the apartment. Sungyeol’s in the connected kitchen at the stove, humming softly under his breath and he smiles. Maybe this is the Sungyeol that Luna was talking about.

 

(And now he’s listening to the furball, he really does believe the craziness is contagious.)

 

“You’re awake.” There’s a surprised look on Sungyeol’s face and Myungsoo swears it’s slightly red as if he’s blushing. No, he had just woken up, he’s hallucinating.

 

He just nods without a word.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Sungyeol clears his throat, keeping his gaze on the food.

 

Myungsoo had, honestly. Except for the dull pain in his leg whenever he had turned over, he slept really well. “Yeah.” He pulls the blankets off of him and pushes himself up onto his feet, biting his lower lip as he tries to hobble his way to the island.

 

“Sit back down,” Sungyeol snaps. “You can’t put any unnecessary pressure on it or the wound will just get worse. I think you might need stitches. My friend, Dongwoo, he’s studying to be a doctor so he can do that if you want.”

 

Stitches?

 

“I’m fine! I swear,” Myungsoo exclaims. “It’s just a cut, Sungyeol-ssi—”

 

“Drop the formalities,” Sungyeol interrupts, reaching over to turn off the stove. “You spent the night here, I think you can call me just by my name now. Or, since I am older than you, you can call me hyung.” His eyes find Myungsoo’s as a small smirk forms on his lips. “Whichever.”

 

There was no way in hell he is calling him hyung.

 

“Sungyeol-ah.” The name sounds weird on his lips but he...likes it.

 

Apparently Sungyeol does too, by the way his cheeks blush and Myungsoo grins. That’s a first.

 

“Say a word and I will throw your portion out the window,” Sungyeol growls out and Myungsoo can’t help but laugh.

 

He finds this weird—having a civilized conversation with Sungyeol, laughing with Sungyeol, actually smiling and not wanting to punch him. It’s strange, but he doesn’t think it’s bad.

 

It’s official. Insanity is contagious.

 

Sungyeol then makes his way over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he ignores the protests Myungsoo begins letting out, leading him to the kitchen island.

 

“What time is it?” Myungsoo suddenly remembers that he does have school today, and he’s about to sit down onto a stool before his eyes catch sight of the clock above the stove.

 

8:18.

 

“,” he blurts, making way to stand back up. A hand presses down on his shoulder, pushing him back into his seat.

 

“You aren’t going to school today, if that wasn’t obvious enough,” Sungyeol replies, sitting down on the stool beside him.

 

“Y-you don’t understand, entrance exams are soon and I have to study so I can get into a nice college and—” He doesn’t know why he even bothers, it’s not like his parents would care what college he got into, as long as he doesn’t do photography.

 

(He wants to, just to spite them.)

 

“One day will not kill you, I promise,” Sungyeol reassures him, already shoving forkfuls of pancake into his mouth.

 

It would be kinda nice to not have to go for once, wouldn’t it? Even if he was usually late, Myungsoo rarely ever missed a day of school unless he was sick with a bad fever. One day couldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t as if his parents would know.

 

“We need to talk. After you eat,” Sungyeol speaks up around a mouthful of bacon and Myungsoo just blinks. He is the one that hadn’t had any dinner last night, why is Sungyeol acting he hadn’t eaten in days?

 

“Talk about what?” Myungsoo keeps back a sigh. He isn’t in the mood to talk, or do anything. His right leg is still throbbing slightly in pain and that battle last night had really exhausted him. Maybe the companion thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He can’t keep this up on his own (and he can’t count on Sungyeol to save him every time, can he?).

 

“What we didn’t finish talking about yesterday because of your outburst. And some more stuff,” Sungyeol answers quietly and Myungsoo tenses, fingers curling around the fork in his hand.

 

“I’m...sorry about that. Really,” Myungsoo murmurs, and he’s a bit surprised that he actually means it.

 

Sungyeol shakes his head, gulping down coffee from the mug beside him. “You were overwhelmed, I get it. I shouldn’t have come on about it so strongly,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

 

“This is just...all so strange.” Myungsoo doesn’t know why he’s even trying to defend himself because there’s a small part of him that’s saying Sungyeol deserved to get yelled at, but there’s a bigger part that feels guilty and he doesn’t like this.

 

“I get it,” Sungyeol repeats. “You need to eat, you know.” He points down at Myungsoo’s barely touched plate. That cold tone is back and Myungsoo frowns, but he takes a bite out of the bacon on his plate anyway. “Are you mad at me?” he can’t help but ask.

 

Sungyeol lets out a snort. “A bit. I’m more disappointed than anything,” he replies and Myungsoo’s frown deepens. Why would Sungyeol be disappointed? Because he isn’t the person he was in the past? Because he can’t remember anything?

 

“Look, I’m sorry I can’t rem—” Sungyeol’s hand slams against his mouth. “Don’t. Please,” he whispers, hand falling back to his side and Myungsoo keeps his mouth shut, eyes glued to his plate but he suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

 

He gently pushes his plate away and starts to stand up, but his leg burns and a whimper subconsciously tears from his lips.

 

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t get up by yourself,” Sungyeol snaps and gets off of his own stool to slide an arm around Myungsoo’s waist.

 

Myungsoo’s face flushes. “I-I’m fine, I can do it myself,” he says quietly. He obviously can’t, he knows, but Sungyeol’s touch is hot through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing and he’s sure he looks like a tomato right now.

 

“Like hell you can,” Sungyeol says under his breath, leading him to the couch. They both then sit down and Sungyeol sighs. “I...don’t know how to start. You won’t believe a word I say either way, will you?”

 

Myungsoo winces, staring down at his feet. “N-no, I...” His voice falters. He doesn’t like this Sungyeol. It makes him feel like and he shouldn’t, right? It’s not his fault he can’t remember anything. It’s not his fault he finds the mere concept of past lives ridiculous.

 

“Just listen, alright?” Sungyeol requests. “That’s all I ask.”

 

Myungsoo only nods, not saying a word. He had actually been feeling pretty nice this morning (except for his leg, of course) and now that feeling’s going right down the drain.

 

“Back in the Moon Kingdom, we were best friends. Our families had been friends forever so it was only logical for us to be, right?” Sungyeol doesn’t give Myungsoo time to answer as he clears his throat and moves on. “My parents, however, were the King and Queen. Even so, the two of us had the title of Prince...it never made sense to me, but it was better than nothing, I suppose.”

 

A dull throbbing just like the one in his leg starts in Myungsoo’s head and he tries not to wince. Another headache, more confusion. As usual.

 

“I was set to be the King, once my parents passed on and I was due to find a girl to be my...Princess, at the time.” There’s a grimace on Sungyeol’s face as if he’s disgusted just by talking about having a Princess and Myungsoo can’t fight the small grin that forms on his lips. “You disapproved quite vocally of it, I will say.” Sungyeol smirks. “But my parents ended up finding someone, a girl named Jiae. We were set to be married and you didn’t like that either. That was when you confessed to me.” Sungyeol’s voice softens.

 

Confess. To him?

 

Myungsoo swallows, tilting his head.

 

“I accepted and confessed back, and we were going to run away, a week before my wedding. And the day we tried to...” Sungyeol pauses and Myungsoo can see the way his hands clench into the couch.

 

“We had enemies, of course we did. The Dark Moon Kingdom, they were always quite jealous of us, especially the Queen. We never knew her name or the King’s, just that they were dangerous when they wanted to be. They and their army of monsters...very much like the ones you’ve been fighting, except a bit worse, came to attack us.”

 

This made no sense. Myungsoo’s pretty sure his head is spinning in confusion and he doesn’t get the point to all of this. Where the hell did him being Sailor Moon and Sungyeol being Tuxedo Mask come in then?

 

“Wait, I’m getting to that.” Sungyeol sighs and Myungsoo’s eyes narrow. “Stop doing that!” he exclaims.

 

Sungyeol chuckles. “Them coming to attack activated our powers. Ours, and all of the other Scouts.”

 

“Others? So you know who they are then?” Myungsoo frowns.

 

Sungyeol nods and Myungsoo kind of wants to punch him. That sure as hell was a big thing to keep from him, why didn’t he say anything?

 

“Before you get all pissy—which I see you’re already getting, by the way, you do look kind of cute like that—I was told not to say a word.”

 

Cute?

 

“I am not cute,” Myungsoo hisses.

 

Sungyeol grins playfully, reaching over to pinch Myungsoo’s cheek.

 

“Y-yah!” Myungsoo smacks his hand away with wide eyes. What was with this guy? First he was all cold and distant and now he’s doing...this.

 

“Anyway.” Sungyeol clears his throat. “The attack activated our powers and it was going well, the battle anyway, until...” Sungyeol murmurs. “To make it a long story short, we were wiped out, but we were given the chance to reincarnate. That brings us here, where it seems I’m the only one who kept my memories.” He manages a small smile but Myungsoo has a feeling in his gut that it’s fake.

 

“But...why is that?” Myungsoo asks quietly. “Why are you the only one to have kept your memories?”

 

Sungyeol shrugs, leaning back into the couch. “Hell if I know.” There’s a sad tone to his voice and it makes Myungsoo frown.

 

“I am sorry,” Myungsoo speaks up in a murmur, gently lifting his leg up onto the coffee table in front of him.  “I didn’t...I can’t...” He falters, not knowing what he’s even apologizing for. He has no control over what he remembers and doesn’t remember, it’s not like he was doing this on purpose.

 

“It’s alright, really.” Sungyeol dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

 

Myungsoo doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t say another word, biting his lower lip.

 

Boy, was this awkward. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped school.

 

“I have a class in about an hour so I’m going to go shower.” Sungyeol stands up, brushing off his pants. “You can turn on the television if you want, do whatever. Make yourself at home.”

 

Myungsoo finds his face warming at the words and he doesn’t know why. He only nods, managing a small wave as Sungyeol nods and walks down the hallway.

 

If you had told him a week ago that he’d be in Sungyeol’s apartment and had been told to make himself at home, he would’ve immediately deemed you crazy like Luna and Sungyeol.

 

But here he was, and he still doesn’t know why. He understands things better, yes, but what’s the point if he won’t remember anything? Can’t remember anything, rather.

 

There are some things that he still doesn’t get. If Sungyeol was the real Prince, the one meant to inherit the throne, why was he the one that had to save the world? Shouldn’t it be Sungyeol instead? Why wasn’t he the chosen one?

 

Myungsoo groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. That talk only made him more confused — not like he expected to understand things anyway, but...

 

He shakes his head and reaches over onto the coffee table to grab the remote, turning on the television. He spends at least ten minutes hunting for a decent show and finally settles on some cartoon, settling back into the couch and trying to ignore the pain in his leg. This , he could barely even move the thing without a sharp pain shooting through it.

 

Myungsoo knows when you’re absent from school, the teachers call your house to make sure you’re really sick. He snorts softly. His parents wouldn’t be there, nor would they care that he was even out, probably. He could stay here, couldn’t he?

 

(Was that what Sungyeol meant by make yourself at home? Was he supposed to stay here for more than one night?)

 

The thought sends another blush to his cheeks and he grimaces, quickly shaking his head.

 

He tries to keep his eyes on the television and pay attention to whatever’s going on, but they soon drift shut and maybe he had overestimated how much sleep he had really gotten.

 

“Why is this happening?” Myungsoo feels as if he’s asked this question a million times in the past half hour and he can only stare in horror as he sees a handful of citizens get knocked into a broken slab of marble from the front stairs of the kingdom.

 

He can’t move, it’s as if some imaginary force is holding him still, frozen in place. But he knows that’s not the case, the monsters haven’t touched him yet, but this is just—

 

“Sailor Moon!”

 

His eyes snap in the direction of the voice and he sees Sungyeol running towards him, face smeared with dirt and grime and Myungsoo can see a few specks of blood. He feels like vomiting.

 

“You’re alright.” Sungyeol sighs in relief as he grabs onto Myungsoo’s shoulders. “Almost the last one left, the largest one. Its weak spot is its spine. You’ll need this.” He pulls out a knife and Myungsoo can’t help but stare in shock at the weapon, wondering how the hell Sungyeol had even gotten one.

 

“The kitchen,” Sungyeol murmurs in answer to Myungsoo’s unspoken question. “I need to go make sure the rest of the others are holding up well, alright?” He lifts his free hand to Myungsoo’s cheek and Myungsoo his dry lips,  hesitantly covering Sungyeol’s hand with his as he pulls his lips up into a (fake) smile. He grabs the knife with his other hand and nods.

 

“Be safe.” Sungyeol leans forward to press a kiss to Myungsoo’s lips, and it’s over before it even starts as he begins walking away.

 

“You too.” Myungsoo knows Sungyeol can’t hear him but he swallows, clenching his hands into fists. He has to do this.

 

He lifts his eyes to roam around the courtyard, stopping them on the monster in question. The urge to vomit rises again but Myungsoo holds it down, slowly making his way to the thing. A loud blast erupts to his right and he swallows, knowing by the following cries of “Sailor Mars!” that their number was dwindling down.

 

Myungsoo stealthily makes his way behind the large monster, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he points the knife straight at its back.

 

Surely this would be the final blow, right? It already took some damage earlier, from what Myungsoo can tell, so this has to be it.

 

He takes a step closer and that’s when his foot catches on a piece of rubble, causing him to yelp as the knife flies from his hand and sinks into the monster’s upper back thigh.

 

.

 

He manages to plant his palms onto the ground before he can land face first into shattered glass and broken marble, and he grimaces in pain.

 

The monster roars in anger and turns around, its eyes trained on him.

 

This was it, then.

 

The monster unsheathes a sword and Myungsoo wonders where the hell did that even come from. The thing had nowhere to put it, how—

 

Myungsoo begins trying to pull himself up, but glass digs into his skin and he can’t say he’s surprised to now see the ground stained red underneath his hands. This was definitely it.

 

He was weak. He was dumb, he was a klutz, he was pathetic, why was he entrusted with this damned power? Why was he Sailor Moon? Sungyeol was much more fit for the job, he was more fit as the leader. Why not him? All Myungsoo ever did was make problems worse.

 

Myungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain of the sword.

 

He waits a few seconds, frowning as it isn’t coming. He hears a hitched breath, one he knows all too well, and that’s when his eyes fly open.

 

A strangled cry tears from his throat as he sees Sungyeol kneeling in front of him, the blade of the sword sticking out from his back.

 

No. No. No.

 

“Yeol!” Tears fill his eyes as he gently grabs onto the sword, easing it out of Sungyeol’s body. Sungyeol lets out a choked gasp and there’s blood, too much blood.

 

Myungsoo’s shaking hands grab Sungyeol’s shoulders, pulling him flush into his chest.

 

“Clumsy idiot.” Sungyeol’s voice cracks and even as blood leaks out of his mouth, there’s a small grin on his face.

 

“Yah!” Myungsoo cries out, tearing off a part of the bottom of his pants, wrapping it around the wound on Sungyeol’s stomach. “Y-you can’t do this,” he whispers, and he feels as if his whole body is trembling.

 

Sungyeol grabs his hand and Myungsoo almost starts at the coldness of it. No, this couldn’t be happening, why was this happening?

 

“I love you, you know that, right?” Sungyeol questions quietly.

 

Myungsoo only nods, grasping Sungyeol’s hand back probably too tightly, ignoring the pain in his palm. “I-I love you too. You’re going to make it, okay?” He looks around what’s left of the destroyed kingdom and a sob leaves his lips. “W-we can get Uranus to heal you, if I could just...find him.” The place looks empty, save for all of the bodies on the ground, and only now does Myungsoo realize the monsters that had been alive disappeared.

 

“He’s dead, Soo. All of them are.” Sungyeol’s face suddenly contorts in pain, like it’s taking all of him to speak and Myungsoo quickly presses a finger to his lips, trying not to focus on the blooming pool of blood surrounding them.

 

“Shh. Don’t speak unless you have to.” He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t heal, there’s nobody else to help. How is this fair? Why is he the damned chosen one? He’s useless. He’s pathetic.

 

“I love you, Kim Myungsoo. Remember that,” Sungyeol whispers, and his hand that was holding onto Myungsoo’s falls to the ground, and his eyes lose the life in them.

 

“No!” Myungsoo exclaims, and broken cries escape one after another, and they leave so fast he’s soon left gasping for breath as he cradles the dead body in his arms.

 

“No...no...” he mumbles, shaking his head as if he repeats the word over and over again everything will just go back to how it used to be.

 

“No...no...” All Myungsoo can see are Sungyeol’s lifeless eyes staring up at him and they won’t go away.

 

In the back of his mind he can faintly hear a voice calling his name but he can’t—those eyes—the blood—

 

“Myungsoo!”

 

A loud cry escapes from Myungsoo’s lips as he shoots awake, eyes wide and his face feels hot and wet. What in the hell was that?

 

Sungyeol’s looking over him, a hint of worry and confusion in his eyes, and Myungsoo would actually feel kind of touched if his heart was trying to burst out of his chest.

 

“Hey, hey,” Sungyeol murmurs, reaching out to run a hand through Myungsoo’s sweat-soaked hair. “What happened?”

 

Myungsoo his dry lips, clearing his throat. “I...I think I just...” His voice is hoarse and it’s cracking all over the place, causing him to grimace. “Remembered something,” he says quietly.

 

Myungsoo knows he isn’t imagining the glee that fills Sungyeol’s eyes and he has to look away.

 

“What was it?” Sungyeol gently moves Myungsoo’s legs over to sit beside him and it’s only then that Myungsoo realizes Sungyeol’s hair is wet and there’s a towel around his hips. He must’ve come straight from the shower, surely he hadn’t been asleep that long? But why did it feel like it had been hours?

 

Myungsoo tries to close his mouth but a small noise leaves it and his face immediately flushes. He had figured Sungyeol wasn’t one to work out much but he had a damn nice body—

 

“Th-the battle,” Myungsoo finally blurts out, dragging his eyes up to meet Sungyeol’s. “The final one. Where you...” His voice trails and he can’t bring himself to say it out loud. Where you get yourself killed because of my clumsiness? Where I watch you die and can’t do a damn thing about it?

 

“Oh,” Sungyeol says simply, biting his lower lip. “That.”

 

“Yes, that.” Myungsoo nods his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers. “It’s all my fault.”

 

Sungyeol immediately holds up a hand, quickly shaking his own head. “No, don’t do that. Please,” he replies. “We were all reincarnated for a reason, okay? You can’t blame yourself.”

 

Myungsoo thinks he can, because it really was his fault, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t ing tripped (as usual) and had actually killed the damn monster instead of letting it get close to him, Sungyeol wouldn’t have taken the blade to the stomach that led him to...

 

“I’m sorry.” Myungsoo’s voice cracks again and he doesn’t know why he’s even apologizing. It was in the past, it was in his past life, why was he getting so emotional? Did remembering stuff make him revert back to his old self? The old self Sungyeol believes he has, anyway.

 

“Hey,” Sungyeol says again with wide eyes, squeezing Myungsoo’s thigh. “Stop. It’s okay.” Even he seems surprised by the way Myungsoo’s acting and Myungsoo wants to scream.

 

“I’m going to...get dressed.” Sungyeol’s face flushes as if he’s just realized his ness and he stands up, disappearing back to what Myungsoo assumes is his room.

 

Thank God for that.

 

Myungsoo wishes he could go back to sleep. A dreamless sleep, preferably, without stupid memories. Why did he have that one now? What changed?

 

And that couldn’t even be all of it, right? Sungyeol had said they had all been wiped out. He died too, didn’t he? But how? There were no monsters left, nothing made sense.

 

“You ask too many questions.”

 

Myungsoo thinks Sungyeol had to have snapped his fingers and automatically changed into clothes. How the hell was he even that fast?

 

“We’ll take the bus back to your area.” Sungyeol doesn’t say anything else on the subject of Myungsoo’s neverending questions and Myungsoo wishes, not for the first time, that he couldn’t read minds.

 

That was another thing that didn’t make sense, Sungyeol’s mind reading.

 

“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Sungyeol muses, sliding on a pair of shoes. “I didn’t have that ability in the past, and even in this life...it didn’t manifest until recently. And I’m not able to control it, most of the time, I don’t know how to turn it off and on. But it only happens around you.”

 

...Oh.

 

“And, by the way, I’m glad you think my body is nice.” A smirk plays at Sungyeol’s lips for what Myungsoo feels like the first time in days. “You did back then too. As you get more memories I’m sure you’ll remember...other things about it.”

 

What.

 

Myungsoo’s too mortified at the implications to say a word. He scrambles off of the couch, face blazing. Damn him damn him damn him.

 

“Cursing me isn’t going to magically make me go away. This is my apartment.” Sungyeol raises an eyebrow. “Speaking of...don’t forget your uniform,” he reminds. “You can wear those clothes though, I can get you a bag to put your uniform in if you want.”

 

Myungsoo glances down, only realizing he still had on the slightly too big clothes Sungyeol had let him borrow last night. Did he want to go back wearing this? Wouldn’t he have to give it back to Sungyeol sooner or later?

 

“No worries, I’m sure you’ll visit again.” Sungyeol grins. “Now come on, the bus leaves in ten minutes and we’re gonna have to run for it. Which I’m sure you’re used to and have no problems doing, since you always run to school and all.”

 

Myungsoo’s back to wanting to punch Sungyeol again and he couldn’t be anymore thankful.

 

“Shut up,” he says under his breath. He then blinks. “Don’t you have a class?”

 

Sungyeol nods, tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. “Yes, which is why if we don’t leave soon I’m going to be late and it’ll be all your fault. I don’t think you want that hanging over your head, do you?”

 

Myungsoo couldn’t care less about being blamed for Sungyeol’s tardiness, honestly, but—

 

“Where is your university?” Myungsoo frowns.

 

“Around your area, duh.” Sungyeol groans. “Come on!” he repeats. “I have a test in my first class and if you’re even a minute late you have to make it up. I swear—”

 

Sungyeol’s kind of cute when he’s angry.

 

Myungsoo’s eyes widen and his hands fly up to his mouth although he knows he didn’t say it out loud. Where did that come from? What the ?

 

That smirk is back. “Cute, huh?”

 

“ you!” Myungsoo whines, standing up and storming over to the door, not-so-conveniently forgetting about his right leg.

 

“Gladly,” Sungyeol mutters under his breath and Myungsoo’s about to give him something to be late about, tests be damned—

 

His leg buckles suddenly and he finds himself in Sungyeol’s arms.

 

.

 

Myungsoo’s eyes widen again and he swallows, gently standing upright. “S-sorry.” He’s trying not to think about how warm Sungyeol is and how nice that felt because of the obvious and he just failed. Damnit.

 

“Here.” Sungyeol slides an arm around his waist and it’s kind of hard, with their different heights, but they make it to the elevator soon enough and Myungsoo is not looking forward to this bus ride at all.

 

(Okay, maybe just a little bit but he has no idea why.)

 

“Th-thank you,” Myungsoo murmurs, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between the two as soon as they had stepped onto the bus.

 

Sungyeol raises an eyebrow, looking over at him as he holds onto one of the bars above. “What for?”

 

Myungsoo’s positive you could fry an egg on his skin since it was so hot. “Last night. F-for saving me, for bandaging my leg, for letting me stay over...for everything. I mean it,” he says quietly.

 

And he does, honestly.

 

Sungyeol smiles and it only causes Myungsoo’s face to redden even more. “It’s no problem. I...if you had all your memories back I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me. And you have, saved me, I mean,” he replies. “Not in battle, of course, but...from dumb silly things that could’ve gotten me into deep .” He lets out a light laugh.

 

Myungsoo just nods, trying not to show how confused he was. That’s when part of him actually wishes he could get the rest of these damned memories sooner, then he wouldn’t be in the dark about everything all the time.

 

“You’ll see.” Sungyeol still has that smile and it’s doing weird things to Myungsoo’s stomach. It feels as if there are butterflies swarming in there and all he can do is look away before he blurts out something he knows he shouldn’t.

 

(You have a really nice smile.)

 

“Ah, here’s your stop,” Sungyeol suddenly speaks up as the bus begins to slow down.

 

Myungsoo blinks. That was quick.

 

He bites his lower lip. “Thank you again, S-Sungyeol-ah.” Saying his name like that causes the butterfly feeling to worsen and he’s so focused on getting off of that bus as soon as possible, he misses the flush rising to Sungyeol’s cheeks.

 

He winces as he begins walking, trying to keep his uniform from dragging on the ground from where he’s holding it. He takes one last glance at the bus to see Sungyeol looking out one window straight at him. He winks and Myungsoo quickly turns back around to hide his blush.

 

Lee Sungyeol is going to be the death of him.

 

It feels like hours have passed when Myungsoo finally reaches his house and his injured leg is burning in pain. He’ll probably have to change the bandage or something...or even go to the doctor and see exactly how bad it is. Sungyeol mentioned his friend was studying to be a doctor, maybe he could ask him?

 

Myungsoo sighs and is about to dig into his school uniform pants for the house keys when a pair of legs invade his vision.

 

He blinks in confusion and immediately gulps as he looks up to see Sungjong standing right outside his door, arms crossed over his chest and narrowed eyes practically shooting lasers at him. (And not for the first time, Myungsoo’s thankful looks did not have the ability to kill.)

 

He’s even more surprised to see Luna at his best friend’s feet, and that’s when he realizes something is wrong. Very wrong.

 

What the hell is going on?