"What the hell."

Jongdae responded with a scoff. "What an . Even if he did get beat up." HIs eyes widened. "What if this is the Justin you're talking about?" 

Excitedly, he squealed and chuckled to himself as Jongin sighed into his hands dramatically. As he peeked through his fingers, he saw Jongdae, animated with laughter.

"Here you are," the waiter set down their two clam chowders. Jongin, again avoided eye contact as Jongdae stiffled a laugh. 

Jongin desperately tried to loathe his Ticklemonster, but it was too much.The caustic final words that had seethed out of the boy he loved ,ignited his heart as it was thrown casually into a fireplace. Instead, he spent the conclusive years of high school pretending to despise him. He wanted to reek of animosity for Justin as he would glare at him in the hallways. If this was the Justin that Jongin was previously captivated by, he honestly had the urge to punch him in the face. But Jongdae's aura alleviated his temper. Just thinking about the past made him slightly pricked with ailment, but Jongdae's amicable spirit was enlightening, making him forget the disgusting memories while he sipped the creamy clam chowder.

_______

Great pines overshadowed the narrow highways Jongin drove along, making him feel tinier than he had to. Drops fluttered downward from the sky and onto the windshield. The nearby shrubbery became anhydrous and flustered as the raindrops quickened its pace. There was an inaudible uproar of panic as the birds rushed to shelter under broad leaves along with their families. Chattery chipmunks and squirrels burrowed themselves in various holes of the trees. Rain was not popular in this part of the state, usually the sun overlooked the skies protectively. There was always a copious amount of sunshine and jittery hummingbirds. If there was rain, the city would be a disaster and each event of rainfall corroded the outcome of an accident. The population would forget where the brakes were and overall, how to drive. But Jongin who came from New York, drove confidently as splatters of the contaminated water hit the windows.

"It's raining," Jongdae bit his lip nervously. "Don't see a lot of rain."

"You don't see much of anything don't you?" Jongin chuckled lightheartedly as Jongdae returned a blithe grin. "Tell me more about yourself, I felt as I've talked too much today."

Jongdae let out an airy laugh. "What do you want to know about me? I'm not that interesting." 

Lifting his eyebrows in mock shock, he teased. "I want to know everything about you. Kim Jongdae, how do you accept everything, or life in general, with much alaricity?" 

"Says the one who exudes apathy," Jongdae shot back with a smile. With a playful "hurt" face, but Jongin wondered to himself, was he really insensitive to other's feelings?

"You think I'm insensitive of others feelings?" Jongin asked with curiousity. Armed with an amused lip bite, Jongin resisted the tempting urge to halt the car and kiss his dainty lips.

"I don't think you're insensitive to everyone," Jongdae started. "From what I learned today, you can't find the trust in too many people to clearly comprehend some human feelings. You only let certain people in. You're afraid to confide in a lot of people, which is actually not a bad thing. But that's my theory on Kim Jongin." 

"Why aren't you majoring in Psychology, may I ask one more time?" Jongin laughed as Jongdae finished. 

A few moments passed as Jongin continued to focus on the crooked pavement ahead where it was silence, only rapid breathing and the itching sound of grainy sand grinding across parts of their skin. Jongin thought that maybe Jongdae got bored of their conversation, but as he turned to look, he saw Jongdae sound asleep. He cuddled his head on the edge of the head rest, making his neck emerge out and his Adam's Apple showing. He seemed peaceful as his mouth was slightly open, and his nose inhaled amounts of air as his dainty lips exhaled. His long lashes spread out into a desiring fan of light feathery browns. He looked, truly angelic as he was whisked away by his dreams.

This love was hushed, a living form of dejection. Demented, and wailing, it was everything that overlooked despair. Jongin thought he could keep it secluded, but he could already taste the daring phrase shift out into open air where it was a battlefield, and nothing was surely safe. He felt his conscious despond as it flickered out and gave into the romance that was somber, friends with the 10's and 11's at night.