A/N: thank you for subscribing, you are all stars. please bear with my another ty writing skill. the 4th paragraph is from gdragon interview with f-ound magazine. (read here). once again, thank you.

It’s a cold sunday morning, and jiyong is not enjoying the warmth of his soft comforter while laying on his bed, but instead, he sits here in the café, waiting for his laptop to load, so he can finish his works. He’s almost unhappy. Almost. Because he’s going to meet seunghyun today, and being unhappy is impossible if it’s involving seunghyun.

He nips his hot coffee and sighs, remembering that night. Three days ago, he met seunghyun and talked for hours. Days and weeks he fantasized talking to the pianist, seunghyun was just like what he imagined to be, but not like what he expected at the same time. He can’t believe he knows seunghyun now, and he can’t believe he’s going to knows about him more.

He learns that seunghyun has immense knowledge in music, not just in piano field but the music in general, and jiyong couldn’t help but feel astonish. He learns that seunghyun is this funny dork, and jiyong couldn’t help but feel his face was hurt because of hundreds of minutes laughs and smiles. He learns that seunghyun had this warm and welcoming eyes when he listened to him talking, and jiyong couldn’t help feel warm and fuzzy in the pit of his stomach. Jiyong can’t wait to learn more. He laughs by himself, thinking there’s another thing that also can’t wait. A bunch of lyrics to be revised from yesterday recording. Better starts getting comfortable and working fast because he feels like the documents on the screen glaring at him right now. He sits up and sips his coffee again. Seeks for another warmth, he pulls his beanie and his loose-fitting sweater sleeves down. He toes his shoes off, folds his legs, puts his feet under his body and clicks the first document.

Jiyong is one of the people who think that words and lyrics are hold important part in music. Lyric is not just a filling to the melodies. He consider lyric as a separate part of art, it’s a literature by itself. When he writes lyric, sometimes he writes poetry, and other times he writes a story. He always uses the language precisely. There’s interest in the lyrics, and if, for example, those lyrics are about love, then he’d imagine there might be someone who receives solace from those lyrics based on their situation. But if people can’t relate to the lyrics? Of course, people might feel refreshed listening to the song at first. But isn’t it an artist’s job to convey something through music? When you listen to music, he thinks you have to embrace the lyrics, as well.

Jiyong is really good at this, focusing, swallowed by the stream of hundreds of words. He always takes care of the music he creates meticulously. Replaying one line for thousand times before he thinks it’s perfect.

He doesn’t know how long he’d been working, but the next thing he know, he hears a voice saying hi to him. Without thinking, he lifts his head, and sees seunghyun, standing in front of him with a smile so bright, its infecting. Suddenly, jiyong doesn’t hear a thing now, it’s like he’s rushed to go inside a vacuum chamber. Seunghyun is here. Seunghyun is here to meet him. Seunghyun is here with those warm eyes that now staring at him. Seunghyun is here and he’s smiling at him with his perfect hair and his perfect lips and his perfect face. And for like an eternity, they just there, staring at each other. Jiyong is so happy and he wants to smile, but then he realised that he already smiling from god knows when.

 “Hi. You made it” jiyong says, finally back to reality.

“Afraid I wouldn't?”, seunghyun, still smiling, arches his perfect eyebrow at him, and he almost throw up because seunghyun looks so damn y for a second.

Like a sun flower looking at the sun, he can’t stop himself looking at seunghyun. Jiyong eyes follows his movement. Watching seunghyun bends and puts his mug on the table, long fingers leave the white ceramic one by one. Watching seunghyun moves again, and gracefully removes his coat. How can someone look so beautiful doing something so mundane.

“No. No, I'm just...happy,” jiyong is now ogling at seunghyun toned arms and chest that flawlessly wrapped by a fit softy-soft purple sweater. When his eyes reach seunghyun face, seunghyun is already staring at him. It’s so embarrassing, his face feels like burning.

“That you did,” he stupidly adds. Like the words addition is going to make him less embarrassed. The fact that five minutes ago, he critiquing lyrics like some professor of literature and now he’s failing with words almost makes him laughs.

 “Me too.” Seunghyun says with a smile and so much sincerity in his eyes.

He wants to believe it, that seunghyun is happy to see him too, but when the idea is sinks in, the cocoons in his stomach became butterflies and flies at the same time. He then puts his feet down. He needs to touch the ground or he might float off to the ceiling along with his butterflies from his stomach, sits face to face with seunghyun like this. He looks at seunghyun again and seunghyun is still smiling at him. How long it will take to see seunghyun’s smile and not feel like his heart clogging on his throat? He wonders.

“So, is this your secret hideout?” seunghyun asks while reaching for his tea.

Instead of answering, jiyong is laughing now, even though what seunghyun said is not funny. Jiyong is laughing because he’s ridiculous about seunghyun, because he ever thought that he just interested in a curious way, when it’s actually an infatuation.

The butterflies in his stomach are not tired yet and fluttering again, as seunghyun eyes fluttering close just before he sips his drink. His laugh is long gone now, but his lips still spreading, smiling. Lashes so long sweeps the high cheekbone that he wants to gently rubs with his thumb. Jiyong marvel at the guy in front him, beautiful yet have no idea that he is beautiful. Seunghyun glances over the rim of his mug and jiyong remembers he hasn’t answered the question.

 “Something like that,” he replies.

Jiyong is good at focusing, but he can only focus in one task at a time. And now his task is talking to seunghyun. Or adoring seunghyun. So he flips his laptop shut and placing it on the table. Then they talk. About music. About everything. About how music is everything in their life.

One thing that jiyong also learns about seunghyun, since the night at Atlas, is that seunghyun doesn’t know how talented and wonderful he is. His play is. His music is. He always fidgets on his seat, casts his eyes downward, answers with soft unsure voice, every time jiyong asks him a question related to his play. Jiyong is thankful that seunghyun answered all his questions. That seunghyun trust him enough to let jiyong see this side of him. But jiyong desperately wants to peels this layer of unconfidence. Cracking the shell. Opening the blind.

He is not going to tell him that he heard him playing before. Because now that he knows seunghyun, he feels like he violating seunghyun’s right in creation. Because before, he was listening without seunghyun’s consent. Because seunghyun told him that he lost the motivation to play for other people,  and then ran away.

Jiyong doesn’t want to lost his trust. Doesn’t want to break this thin layer of whatever relation he has with seunghyun right now.

But jiyong wants to push his luck now. He remembers one question from the sleepless nights. And with a very small of hope, jiyong asks

“Will you play for me sometime?”

It gets more stupid saying this out loud. Maybe jiyong pushing his luck too far. Seunghyun told him, he doesn’t want to play for other people, and what make seunghyun thinking jiyong is not other people?

Jiyong picking at the threads of his chair, as if it’s a trigger so the chair will swallow his body so he will disappears over the cottony cushions. “You can say no. I just– I wanted to ask.”

 But not in a beat, seunghyun answers “Yeah,”

Jiyong knows his face is beaming now. Jiyong knows that his pupils are heart-shapped now.

Seunghyun said yes. Seunghyun said yes and grinning at him. “Yeah, I'll play for you.”

Jiyong is melting, and he hopes the chair will swallow his body right now.