Gaze fixed upon the neon lights in the distance, the oddly positive reflections drowning in the soulless ebony hues of his eyes, he bites his lips gently as he feels his hands trembling. He used to believe that heaven was a sin, something that would’ve been out of his reach – he’d committed too many sins, sins such as falling in love, falling once too many times for the wrong souls; placing his fragile wings in the hands of other’s before tumbling back to the crevices of his thoughts quietly with amethyst fragments. He told himself once that he wouldn’t fall again, his only outlet being the way words flowed through the room, the way in which they were infallible. They’d never lie, they’d never leave because they were parts of him, bits of him; until he realized he was having solace in himself that he felt somewhat proud that he was perchance, close to independence. Yet it went downhill, his thoughts forming nothing but things that people pushed off as too dark, cold, disgustingly pathetic – with a minority enjoying the presence of a similarly tainted soul. Sitting here however amidst the festive mood of the couples seated snugly in seats around him he felt guilty for the manner in which he found empyrean euphoria in another soul. It surprised him, the way their relationship wasn’t the kind of cream that got endearingly sweet at the beginning only to taste bitter and hackneyed, salty, and everything unpleasant settles in; theirs was similar to the kind of coffee that didn’t come bitter at once, it starts bitter; and you might cringe. But you’d need to stay long enough to find the sweetness – and perhaps that was the thing about love few understood.

Kyungsoo could say he did understand it, but whether he knew how to treasure it was another thing.

“Kyungsoo are you alright?” Lay’s voice drifted over the hushed murmurs of the other customers in the brightly lit café as he turned over to watch the boy place two plates of identical flavoured mousses on the table, leaving him to blink for a few moments as he turns to the boy who returns the tray and walks back smiling. The familiar aroma of his favourite coffee lingers as he tilts his head and looks at Lay.

“Coffee? You?” Kyungsoo’s eyes flicked up towards Lay as he was met the boy’s warm smile. He didn’t quite understand why he wasn’t complaining about the coffee but as much as he wished to speak more – such as ask him if he had a fever or if the lady behind the counter had been a trainee who’d followed his fingers wrongly and clasped the metal tongs on the wrong mousse but the sentences didn’t quite wish to flow past his dry lips. He simply looks at Lay with confusion as the boy laughs and reaches out to ruffle his hair with his warm hands.

“Trying something new so I can find out maybe, why you like coffee that much.” Kyungsoo stares at the boy’s smile, the way in which his dimples are always that obvious; the uneasiness hidden behind the supple lips as he nods slightly. He watches the older boy pick the small fork up from the tray as he pokes at the brown mousse for a few moments with a slight frown creased across his forehead as he bites his lips a little before bringing a small scoop of the dessert into his mouth as he stills for a few seconds, tasting the foreign bittersweet sensation in his mouth as he blinks repeatedly before looking up at Kyungsoo and tilts his head before swallowing hard, “Not as bad as I thought it would be.” He smiles as Kyungsoo chuckles at how forced his expression seems as he picks the cup of ice water up and handed it to the boy who was now cringing slightly with his hand covering his face.

“I understand if you can’t take it; its not like a habit or a liking for something can change overnight – and afterall there’s no need to change.” Kyungsoo begins after staying silent for some time as he pieced the words together; and he smiles at the end of the sentence at how he managed to say everything that was hanging on the clothesline in his head, the one which was beneath a grey sky awaiting the water to befall on the innocent bodies of black shirts fluttering in the strong winds, the clips barely keeping them in position – his angst making their fleeting attempts to drag him off course, to bring him away from the enthusiasm he had towards trying to recover, to bring him down to desperation where the frustration towards how he was incapable by now would irk him to the maximum and he’d give up.

“I just wanted to try it out-” Lay starts as he rubs the back of his neck slightly as he grins sheepishly at Kyungsoo as he reaches forward to take another scoop of the coffee mousse as he looked at it carefully beneath the yellowish lighting in the café as his eyes flick back to Kyungsoo, “It wasn’t all that bad. Its just something different. There’s no harm in trying new things if it’d make things better or make people happier isn’t it?” His words gains a nod from the boy sitting opposite to him as a faint smile appears from the corners of his lips, “And so you must try to recover. Because that’d make me happier, make you happier, and things would be much better for you.”

Kyungsoo looks up from the half eaten coffee mousse as he looks at Lay with soulless eyes as though in deep thoughts as he nods and turns back to the mousse as silence entails.

-

As the two of them mill through the evening crowd on this chilly night, the younger boy clutches the other’s arm tightly as he lets his body weight lean entirely against his strong frame, his head tilted towards his shoulders. It was times like this that Kyungsoo treasured the most, the ones that he’d love to spend hours in the comfort of his sofa with a cup of fresh coffee sitting on the table beside him as he’d write prose for once; because he’d need more time, more words, and countless more memories to write things this beautiful. Things were usually beautiful when this boy was around and perhaps he wasn’t going to lose himself. He remembered the times when they used to walk down the same street a few years back as he smiles to himself, digging his face into the boy’s shirt as he feels a light pat on his head.

“You haven’t been working much have you?” Kyungsoo pulls himself back out from the embrace as he turns to face the older boy as he analyzes the flinch in his facial muscles as he raises an eyebrow.

“Not as much.” Lay’s voice is a mere quiver, something isn’t right.

“You’re hiding something-” He wraps his arms around the boy’s right arm as he pulls him over to a corner where they wouldn’t obstruct the way of strangers making their way through the streets with nothing but happiness and excitement.

“I haven’t been doing well recently; I don’t know what got into me but I can’t concentrate well on my work and it feels like I’m no longer interested in this job because all that happens nowadays is the same old stifling cycle – I try to work at night like I used to but I just can’t. So I’d try to explain this entire problem to my colleagues and they’d understand slightly but they reserve their comments until I leave and all you’d hear would be their scoffs and remarks about how I’m just being lazy or trying to evade my responsibilities. When I get back they put on these masks, heavy makeup – and they’re no longer the ones I used to know when the company started up. They’re now cunning, the ones that seem like wolves ready to devour anything that came in their way and all they wanted to do was to climb up the corporate ladder. But their writing is not on par with mine, at least not in the eyes of the superiors; so the one I trusted most, Xiumin. He went on to tamper with my reports and just tweaked things to make my facts seem so warped and wrong and I got this huge scolding from the superiors about trust and responsibility and how I was lucky that Xiumin found the mistake right before it was about to be printed.” Lay spoke with a weary tone, his voice turning into angry hisses from time to time as Kyungsoo pat his back lightly. They sat at the steps outside a shop as they watched the rest of the world shuffle past them hastily.

“That’s unfair.” Kyungsoo squeaks softly.

“It isn’t, but the working world isn’t ever. Things get rough because people tamper with things, people are blinded by their greed. But if they go on with such mindsets they’ll fall – because everyone’s the same, thirsty for the pungent odour of cash fresh from the bank, famished for power and authority. The superiors will one day be replaced with the fiery eyes of the beginners and so nothing matters because no one is infallible. Years of loyalty and utmost responsibility in that company turned into dust that day, that quickly. Just one small mistake and you’re done for – and so I am laden and I’ll probably leave the company someday. Its odd. Recently its like they’ve given up on acting, they’ve taken their masks off and their insults come directly.” His hand runs through his hair with frustration as he sighs and shakes his head before leaning backwards to find the support of the metal shutters of the closed shops, the sound of metal clanging together calming his heart.

Kyungsoo breathes in heavily as he tries to speak – but they don’t fit together; its like his head has stopped trying too. He turns to Lay and sighs, a lump forming in his throat. Reaching out with wavering hands, he bites his lips as it lands gently on Lay’s shoulder. The older boy turns over and smiles, his warm hand placed over Kyungsoo’s as he grabs it tightly.

“We’re both having problems of our own huh?” His chuckle sounds melancholic as he pats his hand and pulls it towards his before holding it in both hands, playing with it as he admires his fingers, the fingers of a writer.

Kyungsoo merely nods as he chokes back his weak tears.

“Beneath the velvet pearl skies you lay; Your thoughts convoluted constellations far beyond the paltry quantum of intricacy I could fathom. Beneath the patched quilt of stars you stood, your hands warm to touch; your mere utterance turning to dust, your ironic decisions stiff yet dulcet. Beneath the stillness of the night air, we sat, a universe of distance between us both – in a facade of repose, in a final moment of solace.” Kyungsoo mutters quietly before he allows the droplets to fall freely as he tilts his head upwards to face the night sky, oblivious to Lay’s equally watery eyes.