Hours slide into days and weeks fade into months, and before they know it, the first Academic Decathlon Scrimmage hurtles into their Saturday morning and leaves them with a bunch of First Place ribbons and just as many Second and Third Place ones.

By the time the awards ceremony is over, the Decathlon team is tired and satisfied, ready to fall asleep on the bus and take a long, hot shower at home. After Junmyeon finishes his congratulatory speech to the team, the bus falls into a sort of calm, homely silence, and everyone is either sleeping or gazing out the window, lost in their dreams or their thoughts. Luhan has his book open in his lap and his eyes fixed on the passing trees.

Sehun is sitting beside him, staring at his hands and occasionally glancing at Luhan. He can’t help but notice the dark circles under Luhan’s eyes and the much too weary look on his face. Sehun remembers the Luhan stumbling into classroom, eyelids nearly shutting, plopping into his chair and letting his head drop onto his arms. When asked if he was okay, Luhan would mumble that he had to study for three tests the day before closing his eyes and dozing off.

He remembers the Luhan that, despite sleeping only two hours a night, would always smile and mutter explanations and instructions to those who needed help, never getting frustrated, never getting impatient. Junmyeon and Minseok would always look at him with worried expressions, only to be reassured with a bright smile from Luhan. That smile would stay on Luhan’s face until class ends and Yixing is standing outside the door, earphones plugged in, waiting for Luhan. That is when Luhan lets the smile slip off his face and whispers something in Chinese to Yixing. Yixing would wrap his arm around Luhan and turn around to shoot a reassuring smile to Sehun, who would always be watching them, before heading out of the school building.

And he also remembers the Luhan sitting in a desolate hallway with his backpack sitting forlornly beside him, head down and arms placed haphazardly on his knees. He doesn’t notice Sehun’s presence until his soft, “hey,” a “hey” that shocked not only Luhan but also Sehun himself.

“A-are you okay?” Sehun asks, his dry lips as Luhan looks at him clouded eyes.

“Yeah,” Luhan mutters, letting his head drop again.

The weariness so evident in Luhan’s figure is uncharacteristic of him, and a wave of worry and panic grips Sehun as he feels a sense of hopelessness take over him. He knows that Luhan has extremely difficult courses, especially with Decathlon on top of everything else. He knows that Luhan has a horrible tendency to be too incredibly selfless and give up too much of his time for others. And he knows that Luhan never wanted others to worry about him, and so that is why he always puts up a strong, cheerful pretense in front of everyone, shedding it only when he’s in the company of his closest friend. The very fact that Luhan is showing vulnerability in front of Sehun—who, in a truthfulness, is still a stranger by all means—terrifies hi, because it means that there is a threshold to the stress Luhan could take, and that very threshold is slowly being met.

Suddenly, he wants to run, to run so fast that he’s running out of his own skin. He feels some kind of anxiety bubbling in his stomach and chest, and he knows that he should do something—maybe put his arms around Luhan to comfort him—but he can’t bring himself to move. This is much too unfamiliar for him, and every cell in his body is screaming at him to leave. He feels his palms beginning to sweat and his lips again, a gesture of nervousness. Just as he is about to spin around and walk away, Luhan looks up, a blinding smile present on his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he repeats, getting up from the floor with a spring in his step that appears a second too late—almost as if the cheeriness is an afterthought.

“I…” Sehun begins, eyes sweeping over Luhan. “…Okay.”

Luhan giggles before bending down to retrieve his backpack and grabbing Sehun’s arm.

“Come on, let’s go to class.”

“Sehun? Sehun, is there something on my face?”

Sehun snaps out of his daze and realizes that he has been staring intently at Luhan, who had stopped staring out the window. He cheeks color, and he immediately lowers his eyes, opting to stare at his feet instead.

“N-no,” he says meekly, clearing his throat.

Luhan smiles at Sehun’s fidgety actions and closes his book, dropping it onto Sehun’s lap.

“Hold it for me, will you?” Luhan says, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

Sehun stares at the Luhan for a while, marveling over how the evening sunlight splays perfectly across his cheeks, tingeing them a soft orange. Luhan’s chest rises and falls at an even pace, and Sehun absently wonders if he’s having a good dream. And for no reason he can understand, he really hopes so.

Once again, Sehun feels that suddenly all-too-familiar sensation of quickened breathing and irregular heartbeats, something that appears whenever he’s in Luhan’s presence. He feels the need to look away, to stare at the back of Baekhyun’s chair, at the aisle littered with jackets, at his hands, just anywhere away from Luhan. But he can’t and instead, continues gazing at Luhan. Soon, weariness gets the better of him, and he lets his eyes flutter close, taking in one last image of the other boy.

The name of an angel passes through his mind just before he slips into unconsciousness and lets his head fall onto Luhan’s shoulder.

“Hey, Luhan, Sehun, we’re almo—. Oh. He’s sleeping,” Junmyeon says dumbly, staring at Sehun as if he’s never seen a sleeping boy before.

“Yeah,” Luhan says good-naturedly. “He fell asleep halfway through the ride. Must’ve been tired from the endless hours of studying.”

He lifts his hand and brushes Sehun’s hair away from his eyes, almost an instinctive touch, and smiles.

“How about you, Luhan?” Junmyeon asks, concern filling his eyes. “You’ve been staying up really late with all the crap from school.”

“I’m fine,” Luhan replies airily. “I couldn’t sleep on the bus, but I closed my eyes for a while. Until this idiot fell asleep on me, that is.”

Luhan smiles again as he ruffles Sehuns hair. In response, Sehun snuggles up closer to him.

Sehun finds out about Luhan’s beautiful vocals and love for music a few days before winter vacation

He’s walking through the music hall during lunch, heading towards his usual shady tree, when he hears a soft melody of Chinese in a familiar voice he can’t place floating from one of the classrooms, accompanied by the simple presses of piano keys. He slows his steps as he reaches the slightly open door to the classroom and admires the music for a few seconds. He closes his eyes, letting it flow over him like a soft, methodical river, before opening them and speeding up.

Then, he hears a cough and a soft mutter of, “Damn, my cold still isn’t better yet.”

He pauses midstride and quickly backtracks, leaning to peek into the room. Sure enough, he sees Luhan, bent over and digging through his backpack. He steps into the room just as Luhan looks up, and with a gasp, he’s tumbling off the piano chair.

“A-are you okay?” Sehun asks, hurrying over to him but stopping a few feet away, arm stretched out hesitantly.

Luhan shoots him a look before grabbing Sehun’s reluctant hand, hoisting himself up.

“Didn’t think of warning me, did you?” He says accusingly, brushing himself off.

“Sorry,” Sehun mumbles, looking at his shuffling feet.

Luhan observes him for a few seconds before laughing. He claps him on the back a few times and leads him towards the piano, situating the both of them on the chair.

“Don’t worry, I was just joking,” he says merrily, glancing at Sehun.

Sehun nods uncertainly before averting his attention towards the piano. Silence settles calmly between them as Sehun the black and white keys.

Plunk.

“I didn’t know you play the piano,” Sehun says softly as he proceeds to press another key.

Plunk. Plunk.

“Oh, I don’t. I was just fooling around.”

Plunk.

“It sounded pretty nice to me.”

Silence.

Sehun looks up from the piano keys and at Luhan, wondering why he had not replied. He sees Luhan gazing out the window above them, eyes squinting against the soft sunrays and expression unreadable. Luhan bites his lip and drops his gaze, closing his eyes momentarily before smiling at Sehun.

“Thank you!” He says in a voice too sickly cheerful for Sehun. “How about you, Sehun? Do you play the piano?”

Plunk.

Sehun stares at his finger pressing the key for a few seconds before taking a deep breath, mind spinning from the exhilaration of what he was about to do. He closes his eyes and reassures himself, telling himself it was alright, that Luhan was next to him. Strangely enough, that very thought is comforting and warm, and it gives Sehun courage. He spreads his fingers.

Luhan’s eyes widen as a soothing tune floats from the piano and from Sehun’s fingers as they scuttle across the keyboard. He can’t place the song, but he’s pretty sure it’s one of Chopin’s nocturnes, having heard it hundreds of times while watching Baekhyun practice piano. His eyebrows furrow as Sehun continues playing, striking every note with perfect rhythm, perfect dynamics, perfect everything.

But…

“Chopin’s Nocturne, Opus 9, number 1 in B Minor,” Sehun murmurs as he finishes the last arpeggio.

“It’s nice,” Luhan admits, staring at the keys. “Really nice. Everything was perfect. Baekhyun would hate you.”

Sehun smiles at the last comment, knowing of Baekhyun’s obsession over the piano, but he can feel a but coming.

“But….”

There it was.

“But it was just lacking something. It… It was just so dead; it was like a machine playing the piano, o-or maybe a robot, just plunking on the keys. It wasn’t playing the piano; it was more like just remembering the notes and pressing the keys. I-it was just missing the feeling you usually get when listening to one of Chopin’s nocturnes or whatever,” Luhan mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.                                        

With a small gasp, his eyes flit to Sehun, as if he barely remembered that he was there.

“I-I mean, never mind, just ignore me,” he stutters quickly. “It’s not like I’m in a—“

“No,” Sehun interrupts. “No, you’re right. That’s what everyone says."

Plunk.

“They, even those who have no music experience, always tell me that I was a genius at memorizing the music, but not at playing the piano. They always tell me that I couldn’t play it, like really play it.”

Sehun glances down at his fingers as he registers his senseless jumble of words, but Luhan nods in understanding.

“Yeah,” he says, moving to place his hands next to Sehun’s.

Sehun smiles at the way their skin tones match and waits for Luhan to begin playing, removing his hands and sitting back. He never does.

Instead, Luhan takes in a shaky breath, closing his eyes again, before standing up. He circles around the chair and kneels by his backpack, grabbing his books.

“Anyways,” he begins, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “I’ve got to get to class now. You should go to.”

He smiles at Sehun, waves, and heads down the hallway towards his math class. Sehun doesn’t miss the way Luhan’s eyes flit back towards the music room, his expression wistful and longing.