Warm. Chanyeol was feeling warm and comfy. Cozy, really. It was somewhat surprising that the heat emanating off the body pressed against his chest was so... pleasant. He wasn't usually one to enjoy excessive heat but this was nice. Kind of a guilty pleasure, really, but nobody was going to catch them if they were subtle about it. Feeling the dip of a narrow waist under his fingers sent tingles down his spine and tugged at his insides. He settled on his hip, fingers resting on the sliver of exposed skin and he felt him press back immediately, felt Jongdae nestle himself further into his hold. Chanyeol buried his nose in the other’s hair, fingertips sneaking further under the fabric as he pulled him closer to where he was aching for pressure the most, and Jongdae made a small, tiny sound-

Something crashed in the distance and Chanyeol jolted awake.

For a single second, he felt terrified over being caught. Then reality caught up, making him aware of the paling sky and the very familiar blankets sticking to his clammy skin.

After that, he only felt mortified.

Absolutely, irredeemably mortified.

With a wince, he turned to the side to curl in on himself - decidedly ignoring the way his nether regions were begging for attention.

As if having indecent dreams about people in your life wasn't already bad enough - but Jongdae? All because of that one night? Was he that touch-starved?

Chanyeol groaned into his cushion.

Who was he even trying to kid? That had been the most actual skinship he'd shared with someone in ages and considering that Jongdae wasn't a family member, it wasn't at all surprising that his libido would take the opportunity with a shrug. It was a normal reaction. Stupid, but normal.

Completely unrelated to reality.

Not to mention that that night never even happened. They had agreed on that.

Chanyeol sat up with a new wave of determination, trying to cool down his flushed cheeks.

It was fine. People had weird dreams all the time and nobody would ever know if he kept it to himself - which he would. Definitely.

In fact, he should try to distract himself so the dream could dissipate like most fragments remaining in the morning. Sadly, not thinking about certain things was notoriously hard to do and Chanyeol was terrible at it. So he swung himself out of bed and into his uniform pants, pairing them with the largest pullover he had and leaving it untucked. Just in case.

Nobody would even comment on this, anyway, he told himself as he left his room. The only person shameless enough to do so would be Luhan, and he'll be either too sleepy to notice or out for club practice. It's fine-

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he had taken enough stairs to get a good look at the entrance area, where Jongin and Jongdae were going through their usual morning routine... joined by none other than Huang Zitao.

"What," Chanyeol stated blankly, brain refusing to provide him with a further response, or even a proper question mark, for that matter. Jongdae noticed him first, followed by Zitao himself, who was currently sitting cross legged, stretching his arms over his head.

"God, you get up late," he stated, sounding very awake and judgmental. "How do you ever get things done?"

Chanyeol parted his lips, nodding to himself as he took a deep breath.

Then the noise level in dorm three rose considerably.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, taking the last steps to get a closer look at this new, warped kind of reality.

Zitao had the nerve to shrug.

"You were late."

"To what?" Chanyeol burst out, rubbing his eyes. Disappointingly enough, Zitao didn't magically disappear. "We weren't supposed to meet at all today!"

"And that's where you're wrong," Zitao countered easily, switching sides. "Today's a free day and this project won't get done by you lazing around."

Chanyeol gaped at him. It was all he knew to do, really. Finally, he turned to Jongin, who was looking completely blasé about all of this.

"Why did you even let him in?"

"Oh, was that not allowed?" Jongin asked right back at him, sounding genuinely worried. Zitao scoffed.

"Nonsense. Commoners may not be allowed in our dorm, but there's no such rule for the other way around."

Jongin relaxed immediately.

"Oh, that's good, then."

"Good?" Chanyeol echoed, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Am I missing something here? Like, for instance, the moment where he apologized for being an absolute to you?"

"What did you say?" Zitao demanded, only to flinch when Jongin adjusted his posture - apparently, being drilled by true masters from a young age had him comply on instinct because that's exactly what Zitao did, even as he was glaring at him.

"Well," Jongin began in a pacifying tone, "I don't see any reason not to share these exercises with anyone expressing an interest."

This time, Jongdae was the one scoffing, though it came out quiet and full of refined, perfectly polished contempt.

"Maybe it would do you good to distinguish between expressing an interest and demanding a spot for themselves with no regards to your stance on it."

"Oh, now you can talk all of a sudden," Chanyeol snapped, crossing his arms. "Why didn't you say something-"

"And what would I be supposed to say-" Jongdae began, voice surprisingly rising in volume and emotion, but Zitao wasn't taking well to being ignored for more than ten seconds.

"How dare you talk about me like I'm a stray cat someone let in? You should be grateful I'm meeting you halfway-"

"Okay," Luhan began, entering the dorm in his basketball uniform and sounding done already. "Why is everyone screaming at this godforsaken- what the HELL? Why are you here?!"

Needless to say, breakfast was... tense.

"I can't believe you actually have to cook your own food," Zitao commented, leaning way too far into Chanyeol's personal space as he watched Yixing and Yifan put food on the table.

He had slipped into the empty seat to Chanyeol's right with an unbothered ease of someone who was naturally convinced people would be delighted by his presence. And if they weren't, they'd at least have to pretend to be.

If that truly was the case, however, dorm three had not received that memo yet.

"And I can't believe you're still here," Luhan commented, glaring at him from the other end of the table. "Don't you get fed at your own dorm?"

Zitao snorted.

"Please. We eat nothing but exquisite meals."

"Then hurry up and go get those exquisite meals," Luhan snapped, while Chanyeol pushed him back towards his own seat.

"For real. You're not even worth Yixing's cooking."

"How can you even let him cook?" Zitao asked next, blissfully ignoring each and every unimpressed glare sent his way in favour of focusing on Chanyeol. "He has the second-highest rank in this shoddy dorm. If anyone here should be doing chores-"

"It would be you?" Luhan cut him off. "I mean, I get where you're coming from, but I don't wanna get food poisoning. Not to mention that you're probably useless regarding ANY type of chore."

While Chanyeol half-nodded, half-shrugged to himself, Zitao looked offended.

"I am a guest!"

"An unwanted one-"

"Hey now, no need to fight," Yixing cut them off, placing a bowl of steaming bread rolls on the table. "There's enough food for everyone, isn't there?"

"You are way too nice, Xing," Chanyeol grumbled, reaching for one of the baked goods. Recently, Yixing had discovered freshly baked bread for himself, claiming it to be an easily prepared breakfast. Chanyeol certainly wasn't complaining - not when the results were so heavenly.

Luhan was also grumbling something to himself as he spread some home-made berry jam over one half of his roll. It was quite the change to see Luhan being the controntational one for once. Part of Chanyeol found it satisfying if only because Luhan was right and they had every right to kick out the uninvited, noble brat and the others were either too nice (in case of Yixing and Jongin) or too passive (for Yifan and Jongdae) to do anything about it. While Yifan did seem quietly unhappy about the other’s presence, Jongdae's animosity somehow managed to be more scalding than Luhans though, despite him not saying a single word. Chanyeol had noticed straight away that Jongdae seemed to be in a foul mood; he was currently staring at his food, avoiding anyone's gaze, with his posture even more refined and rigid than usual. The sight reminded him of their first days at the dorm, and Chanyeol was pretty sure people would interpret it as a display of discomfort and as a general defense mechanism. He knew better though.
Jongdae was annoyed.

"So it's true that you also have to clean this place? Outrageous," Zitao commented, naturally arrogant and still ignorant to the fact that Luhan was very close to bodily throwing him out.

"Knowing to do household chores is good for ones' character," Yixing threw in, serene as ever. "They're not only good exercises for your body, they also have a cleansing effect on your mind."

"Plus, this is a military academy," Chanyeol added. "Good luck telling a superior that you're too important to get your hands dirty. In fact, your first practical field exercise is going to be a fiasco I wouldn't wanna miss."

"I already had a practical exercise and I aced it," Zitao insisted stubbornly. "Unlike your little tour through Bareahard, we were tasked with securing a dangerous crime scene-"

"Ah, the escaped zoo animals? Yeah, I'm sure people were very glad to have you guys there," Luhan said sarcastically. "Bet you were their favourite. Did you run screaming from a butterfly?"

Chanyeol snorted while Zitao turned very red.

"That is not funny-"

"Oh, I think it's hilarious," Luhan countered with a shrug. "Did one of the bunnies bite you? I heard that there was quite some screaming involved-"

"Who told you that?"

"If I said you were squealing loud enough for me to hear it-"

The kitchen door opened and their instructor entered, causing everyone to fall silent immediately. His military uniform looked prim and proper as always in all its black and violet glory, betraying that he was going to spend his free day venturing out on military-related matters. It was something they were used to by now, just how they learnt that none of their questions regarding those would ever be answered.

They had also learnt by now that if there was one thing Do Kyungsoo truly couldn't stand - and that wasn't education-related - it would be noise.

His brows furrowed as he zeroed in on Zitao immediately.

The boy surprised Chanyeol by proving he had enough common sense to be scared of the intense stare sent his way. He could just see him mentally going over every instance of him vocally putting down their instructor and regretting it.

For the longest three seconds of their entire life, Kyungsoo stared at Zitao.

Then he sighed, slightly shaking his head in a gesture that radiated "whatever," before making his way to the kitchen aisle. Again, Zitao prove at least basic intelligence by keeping his mouth shut as he reached for a second bread roll while Yixing made airy smalltalk with their instructor.

Despite Chanyeol occasionally glaring at him, nudging him every once in a while, the other not only helped himself to Chanyeol's clean cutlery, he also inhaled no less than four rolls - completely unbothered by Chanyeol complaining under his breath and Jongdae shooting him subtle, cool glances whenever he wasn't looking.

By the end of their breakfast, Chanyeol had not only gained a totally different kind of contempt for nobles, he was also not looking forward to the rest of the day.

"There's a stain on your uniform."

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, half-heartedly scratching at a smudged spot of black on his thigh.

"That's usually what happens if you engage in actual work," he countered.

'What, you lose the ability to do your laundry?' he heard Jongdae ask in his mind, but the person next to him wasn't Jongdae. At all.

"How about you learn not to get dirty, then?" Zitao suggested, crossing his arms with a disapproving look, paired with a sigh. "I can't believe I'm being seen with you. Embarrassing."

Chanyeol bit back on a groan.

If he thought bickering with Jongdae was the most mentally draining thing to do, this day sure was out to teach him otherwise. Zitao was every bit as confrontational but lacked the restraint and finesse that Jongdae loved to flaunt in order to tick him off. Zitao was nothing but a spoiled noble to the core and just being in his vicinity was exhausting.

Which was why Chanyeol was already tired of fighting him and pretended not hearing at least half the things he said or did.

"And there we are," was all he said, stopping in front of the only general goods store in their tiny town. "Here's to hoping they actually got it-"

Zitao walked past him with no inhibitions, entering the store like he owned it and leaving Chanyeol to follow with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Luckily, no one else was inside the store to witness the way Zitao pranced up to the counter, not even bothering to smile at the old lady manning it.

"Good day," he began, dripping nobility from his posture to the arrogant inflection in his voice. "I am here to get the weapon I have ordered."

Old lady Yeni seemed confused.

"Weapon?" she echoed, shaking her head. "We don't deal with weapons, young man. You might want to try the weaponry down the street. Oh, hello Chanyeol. What brings you here today?"

Before Chanyeol could attempt to explain, Zitao stepped between them.

"I did place the order here, and I was told that it would arrive by Saturday," he added stubbornly. "Now it's Sunday."

"I'm telling you, you're at the wrong store, boy," the woman insisted patiently. "There's a store selling weapons for students just down the street, you can hardly miss it-"

Zitao groaned, looking around the store.

"Is the store owner here?"

Chanyeol could only cringe as the usually friendly lady was starting to narrow her eyes at him.

"My husband? He's out but I can assure you I have full authority. Authority to ask you to leave, as well."

"Is that a threat?" Zitao asked, already bristling, and Chanyeol decided that enough was enough, unceremoniously pushing him aside mid-sentence.

"I'll have you know that I'm-"

"-extremely sorry for being so rude," Chanyeol finished for him, purposefully stepping forward to make eye contact with the lady. "Please excuse my friend. He's had a bad day."

Friend. Chanyeol considered a lot of people friends, so the phrase had slipped out all-too naturally. While he did regret it, there was no point in clarifying. After all, he wanted this situation resolved as peacefully as possible. Just as he thought that, Zitao opened his mouth and Chanyeol stepped on his foot. Hard.

Well, he thought to himself, ignoring the other's yelp, peaceful for the old lady, that is.

"Anyway, I'm aware you're not usually the place to go to for weaponry of any kind," he continued smoothly, ceasing his opening as Zitao was still wincing in pain, "but we were looking for something rather unusual and your husband mentioned that he might be able to help us out. It's for a school project."

"Oh, really?" the old lady asked, her mood shifting immediately."What kind of weapon? I can see if he has it stored in the back somewhere."

"It's a gunsword," Chanyeol explained right away. "I'm sure you've seen one before."

The last comment had her smile at him.

"Whatever makes you say that to such a tranquil old lady manning a general goods store in such a peaceful little town?" she asked, a spark of mischief dancing beneath a surface hardened over the years.

Chanyeol's smile didn't falter.

"Oh, I'm sure you see all sorts of things over the years," he shrugged in faux innocence. "Life can be funny like that."

Old lady Yeni actually laughed at that, patting his arm.

"You have an eye for people and a talent for words, young man," she announced, playfully scolding him. "Not that it's going to work on me. But I appreciate the effort. Now let me see if I can find what you're looking for."

They left the store no longer than five minutes after with an old, but very much functioning gunsword secured in a bag. Zitao was outraged.

"Why did she give it to you just like that when she was being so fussy before?" he all but demanded in genuine disbelief. "Do you know that woman? You made it sound like you do."

It was funny how accusatory he managed to sound, considering that Chanyeol had just saved their project.

He only shrugged.

"The engineering club orders stuff on the regular and we newbies are the ones responsible for picking them up. Nothing more, nothing less."

"So it really was because of your relations," Zitao deducted, looking unhappy still. "I hope you’re not planning on labeling me as one of your relations in the future. I refuse to act as your stepping stone."

Chanyeol scoffed, but Zitao didn't pay him any heed.

"It makes no sense though. Personal relations come second to name and rank. I could buy their entire store. Stubborn old woman."

Chanyeol purposely bumped into him.

"I don't wanna hear that from you," he said. "You're more stubborn than an old donkey yourself. Ever considered that being nice to people might yield results as well?"

Zitao looked equal parts angry and confused.

"Why would that matter? She's obligated to do my bidding, anyway. If it weren't for your meddling, I would have gotten this settled myself-"

"And it would have been a disaster," Chanyeol cut him off, wondering if Zitao's mere presence would be enough to give him a headache. He sighed.

"Come on, it's not orbmental science. Would you be happy to do people's bidding if they talked to you like that? Would you gladly scrub Jongdae's shoes if he tossed them after you?"

Zitao shrugged.

"We're barely apart in rank but probably. It's where I'm standing, after all. Unlike you, I actually know my place."

Chanyeol could only stare at him, waiting for his mind to supply him with an argument strong enough to pierce what appeared to be a wall made of stone.

Ancient stone.

You have seen the pillars they lean on, Jongdae had said back then. It rang true - Huang Zitao was naturally convinced that what he said was true. He stood there in his pretty white uniform, perfectly groomed hair and nails, and he genuinely believed he was worthier than others. And Chanyeol had no idea how to convince him otherwise. Part of him wished he was back at the dorm right now. Yixing would have known what to say now. Even Jongdae would have had a sentence or two on that.

Chanyeol, though? He could only shake his head, and continue on his way back to the dorm.

"What?" Zitao demanded, stalking after him, grabbing for his arm. "Why are you shaking your head? Don't you dare ignore me-"

"You're driving me insane," Chanyeol blurted out, ripping himself free. "What do you want from me? I'm not going to agree with you. Ever. You think I'll kiss your hand and thank you for stepping all over me? That's just delusional. You're so out of touch with reality that I can't help but wonder how people can stand you at all. Does any of the noble guys hang out with you voluntarily?"

He was being quite mean right now, but it had slipped out before he knew it, and there wasn't even a cruel intent behind it, not really.

Zitao was turning red again - from anger or humiliation, Chanyeol didn't know.

"Of course they do," he replied without thinking, and when Chanyeol only responded with a doubtful look, he crossed his arms, turning defensive. "Because unlike you and your acquaintances, everyone has accepted the order of things and thus, people get along perfectly-"

"They're not my acquaintances, they're my friends," Chanyeol cut him off, completely focused on Zitao now as a very familiar anger bubbled up again. "And I'm sorry for labelling you as one of them earlier. Sorry to myself. And to my actual friends."

"Well, you could just as well apologize to me," Zitao had the nerve to spit out, but Chanyeol wasn't having it.

"But I won't!" he snapped, throwing up his arms. "I won't apologize for anything I've ever said to you, and I could write you an essay on the reasons but why bother? In fact- why do you even bother talking to me?"

He was really starting to run hot and Chanyeol knew that turning away to leave would be the smartest decision right now, but the accumulated frustration needed an out, and if Zitao was begging for a piece of his mind, he could just as well have it.

"Why do you keep pestering me?" he demanded next, stopping in the middle of the street. There was no one in earshot - not that Chanyeol would have cared about having an audience. "What do you want? My approval? My submission? Whatever it is, what's it to you? Why does it matter? Why would you need to assert dominance if you think you already have it and you're oh-so convinced I'm not a threat to you?"

Zitao stared at him, angry, stubborn, and entirely out of words.

"I don't know whether you're insecure or just secretly aware that you're really not all that, but whatever it is, it does not give you the right to make people's lives hard for no reason."

As he was talking, things seemed to fall into place all on their own, with his thoughts and anger slipping into the words needed to be properly expressed. For the first time, he felt like he was really talking to the person that was Huang Zitao.

"Maybe, instead of harping on about your place in this world, it would do you some good to get your out of said place and take a good look around you. Because whatever you're looking for, you're not gonna find it like this," he stated, firm and sure, putting a tiny crack into the other's angry expression. It was just a flicker of insecurity, the tiniest opening in a wall of egocentricity, but Chanyeol was too far gone to halt now.

"And maybe one day you'll realize that people may be bound to serve you but that no one - neither noble nor commoner nor anyone else - is obligated to care for you. You gotta earn that."

The silence following his outburst was deafening. He knew what anger looked like on Zitao's face, and he'd seen him both disappointed, annoyed, and genuinely shocked before.

He had no idea what kind of emotion he was looking at right now though.

Before he could even begin to let the words sink in, however, a melodic voice called out to them.

"Zitao. I didn't expect to meet you here. You skipped practice this morning."

Chanyeol whipped around to see a pretty senior approach them. It didn't take him long to put a name to his face - there had never been a reason for him to acknowledge Byun Baekhyun's existence, but it was hard not to know about him, with him being the leader of the fencing club and striking in his appearance and popularity. He was also known to smile a lot, and for being very sociable as well as graceful. Chanyeol could see all of that displayed right now.

Zitao blinked and the spell was broken.

"I- was going to attend the evening practice," he said, clearly trying to slip back into the rhythm after Chanyeol's verbal slap to the face. "Since I moved my practice with the longsword to the morning hours."

Baekhyun waved him off.

"I know, I remember you mentioning that. I was merely jesting," he commented casually. Chanyeol only shot him a wary stare. There was something unnerving about his smile. It reminded him of watching a very self-satisfied predator on the hunt, and he didn't like it one bit. Not to mention that he was pretty certain the other had approached them simply out of nosiness since he apparently had no urgent matter to discuss. Baekhyun confirmed that thought as soon as it had crossed Chanyeol's mind.

"You seem a little out of it," he commented next, sounding genuinely empathetic while he talked about Chanyeol like he wasn't even present. "Is your study partner giving you trouble?"

Zitao's eyes were flitting to him, the glare unmistakeable, but accompanied by a flicker of... something else. Some sort of conflict.

Chanyeol stared back at him with his head held high, daring him to tattle to his senior.

For the first time that day, however, Zitao surprised him.

"Not any more than they usually do," he said dismissively, regaining most of his usual, haughty demeanour. "Nothing I can't handle."

Baekhyun chuckled.

"Well, we all know how the uneducated can be."

"And how about you say that again, but to my face?" Chanyeol suggested blankly.

When Baekhyun turned towards him, it was with a look of mock surprise that quickly melted back into the wide, bright smile.

"Excuse me? I didn't realize you were addressing me. You were saying?"

The way Zitao was grimacing ever so slightly should have been a fair warning but Chanyeol chose to ignore it, instead opting to speak slower and enunciating every word very clearly.

"I said why don't you say that to my face?"

Baekhyun stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly as the atmosphere dropped.

Then the other relaxed again, voice turning even sweeter.

"Your inadequacy won't go away by yelling at me. Then again, I don't see many options for you in general, so I understand why you would feel like resorting to crudeness. Despair is humanity's biggest enemy, after all."

Under any other circumstances, Chanyeol would have taken this as an invitation to get even louder but in that very moment, all he had was a vaguely disgusted "could have fooled me," before turning on his heels and leaving.

Something about the way Baekhyun had said it - something about the utter, unrelenting conviction and confidence, and the fact that he did not seem driven by raw emotions like Zitao - reminded him of a certain other noble. And Chanyeol hated it. Hated Baekhyun.

Despite everything that had happened in the past, this short encounter was enough for him to decide that he despised him even more than Zitao. And he already wanted to see that guy run into a pole.

He came to a halt and threw his head back to groan out loud.

"God, I hate nobles," he said to no one in particular.

Then he took a deep breath, counting to five in his head.

He exhaled, relaxing his grip on the bag in his hand, and changed directions to head for the engineering building.

Time to distract himself by doing something productive.

At least that's what he told himself - sadly, his brain didn’t turn out to be all that cooperative, so he busied himself with simple tasks, giving in to the insistent thoughts about Huang Zitao, Byun Baekhyun, Jongdae, and nobles in general. Sure, they drove him mad, but each of them was annoying in a distinctly different way, and Chanyeol was bothered by the fact that he was unable to put his finger on it. Zitao was a bit of an easy case - spoiled rotten, probably more conceited than even the royal family had any right to be, but fundamentally simple-minded. He was pretty straight-forward and that made him easier to handle.

The other two, however, were not nearly that simple.

So what exactly made Byun such an insufferable jerk, and what was it that Jongdae did differently? There was no doubt that Jongdae made Chanyeol want to tear his hair out, but he didn't make him feel... sick.

He paused, staring at the overly neat arrangement of tiny screws.

Maybe it was that Byun Baekhyun meant it. He genuinely meant all the cruelties throwing people's way, wrapped up in candid smiles and sharp gazes, and that was the reason he was so repulsive and reminded him of Jongdae’s father. In turn, that would mean that Jongdae didn't mean his comments seriously, and Chanyeol hadn't been aware of that, but at the same time... he had. Deep down, he'd realized pretty quickly that Jongdae held no genuine disgust towards any of their commoner dorm members, and that was the reason it was so easy to argue with him. While Chanyeol could snap at him and list arguments, going all out with no restraint, it was mostly indulgent from Jongdae's end. Nothing more than harmless taunts to provoke him.

The realization felt strangely major, considering that part of him had apparently known this all along.

He'd always been driven by the urge to prove himself to Jongdae, but only a couple weeks had been enough to convince him that this was exclusive to him. There was no need to protect the others from Jongdae. It had turned into a thing between them pretty fast - which meant that in a bizarre way, their conflict wasn't about nobility at all, was it?

"Chanyeol?"

He looked up from his parts, glad for the interruption - all this thinking was making his head hurt.

One of his fellow freshmen club members was standing there, a palm hovering resting on his table.

"You forgot about your noble boy again," he said, purposefully casual, though there was certainly a hint of amusement resting in the quirk of his lips. "You might wanna let him know that our doors are open for a reason."

Confused, Chanyeol stared at him.

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's not like anyone will kick him out," the other added, blissfully missing the point. "At this rate, people will start labelling us as having an anti-nobility attitude."

Still perplexed, Chanyeol got to his feet. It was hard to believe that Zitao would stalk him to the club now after what he’d thrown at him- then again...

Chanyeol sighed. Who was he kidding, it was more than likely. That boy just didn't know when to give up.

As he opened the door, he was greeted with none other than Jongdae, and the prepared insult got stuck in his throat.

He was crouching in the grass to the side of the building, petting a familiar, reddish cat. Both the cat and Jongdae seemed stuck in their own bubble, with the cat purring and Jongdae wearing a small, soft smile. For a few, long seconds, Chanyeol watched them with crossed arms.

There he goes, smiling again, Chanyeol thought to himself. What's the world coming to?

"Communicating with your kind?"

Jongdae flinched, startling the cat as he did so. Then, without turning, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"Can't you introduce yourself like a normal person?"

"Can't you utilize the high-tech mechanisms we call doors?" Chanyeol asked back, already approaching to kneel down and scratch the cat behind his ears. "You do realize that no one's gonna open them for you, do you?"

"Why would I want to enter the engineering building? I have nothing that needs repairing," Jongdae said, stubborn gaze resting on the cat, which was elated over the increase in pets, repeatedly rubbing his head against his knees.

"So you just... happened to walk by and decided to pet Elliot?"

"Is that his name?" Jongdae asked, growing bolder upon hearing the cat purr over Chanyeol's actions.

"Yeah," Chanyeol hummed, watching him carefully scratch a spot under Elliot's chin. "He belongs to no one, really, and he comes and goes, but I guess you could say he prefers our club. Apparently, the roof is a great sunbathing spot and Minseok gets along well with him."

"I see."

"So," Chanyeol tried again, glancing at Jongdae, who seemed very focused on petting Elliot, "what brings you here again?"

"I told you I just happened to walk past when I saw the cat," Jongdae muttered, and Chanyeol hummed, making it known that he wasn't believing him even one bit.

It didn't take long for Jongdae to cave.

"I've improved it. My usage of fire orbs, I mean," he added, shooting him the briefest glance before turning back to the cat who no doubt interpreted his frequent blinking as friendliness. "And you made it sound like there would be more than one lesson."

It was the most curious enunciation, a perfect split between a statement and a loose end.

Chanyeol chuckled.

"Why didn't you just say so? Of course I have more to teach you. I barely even started."

With that, he got to his feet first, arms stretched over his head.

"Let me just get a few tools and I'll be right there."

Jongdae's fingers came to a stop over the cats’ head, much to his dismay.

"Right now?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Not like I got anything better to do - and neither do you, apparently," Chanyeol shrugged, already returning to the club building, mentally recounting his plans for their second lesson. Maybe he was a bit too excited about this but Chanyeol was a fire orb enthusiast and he rarely got to teach people things. Jongdae sure poised a challenge but he was also intelligent and determined, which really made this task much less draining than it could be.

And yes, Chanyeol sighed to himself as he stuffed a few more things into a metal box. It also helped that they weren't on the verge of scratching each other’s eyes out all the time anymore.

"If you want me to scratch your already overblown ego, you're in for a surprise," Jongdae stated, sounding slightly defensive.

Chanyeol goodnaturedly rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands to enjoy the few sun rays reaching them. They had chosen to practice just outside the school campus, on a little grassy slope off the main road. People would have to really go out of their way to see them and grass didn't catch fire easily, making this a perfect spot in Chanyeol's opinion. Jongdae had made a face at the sight of more grass to potentially stain his knees, but had sat down without any verbal complaint. Not that his pride was in any less of a stellar condition than usual.

"Like I need you to boost my ego," Chanyeol said, ignoring the fact that Jongdae had done just that not too long ago. "I'm asking because you've obviously improved and you should know best what helped you. If Jongin's lessons didn't play into it at all, just say so. It'll give me a better idea of what to do next."

Jongdae shot him a long, doubtful look, before relenting with a sigh.

"I do think they were quite helpful," he admitted, purposefully neutral, as his gaze rested on the measuring device between them.

Chanyeol nodded to himself.

"Good. I can see your pull got much stronger. Let's see about your flexibility next."

He procured a second measuring tool, identical to the first.

"Alright. Let's see how far your piano fingers are going to get you this time," he said with a grin, setting a few basic orbs before placing his fingers over them. "Try to copy me."

He started out easy, activating only one orb at a time, pulling out a medium amount of energy and watching the red lines on the display grow accordingly.

Even at this simple phase, Jongdae seemed fully concentrated, focusing on getting a feel for the amount of energy the lights equaled.

Chanyeol's eyes flickered between the boards and him as he picked up the pace, varying the pull. He'd barely activate one orb before jumping to the next, demanding much more, and when Jongdae stopped struggling, he began to activate multiple orbs at once.

While Jongdae was staring at the boards, highly focused, Chanyeol watched him instead, gaze wandering from his face to his fingers.

There was certainly a strain to his expression and his movements were losing grace as he was starting to tumble. His reflexes were great, as expected, and he had no trouble switching between low and high energy, but a bit of careful observation betrayed that he was still lacking power - he did follow Chanyeol's lead, but whenever Chanyeol was really forcing everything out of the tiny orb, Jongdae stopped somewhere around a medium level, already moving on. Their instructor would probably put it down to sloppiness and a lack of accuracy... and in a way, she'd be right.

Chanyeol still felt himself grin by the time he stopped abruptly (only to see the surprise on the other's face).

"Good job," he quipped, clenching his fist to loosen up again.

Jongdae did the same, all while shooting him a wary look.

"It wasn't nearly as clean as it should have been," he stated right away, being the perfectionist he was.

Chanyeol shrugged, already taking apart his own device.

"That means you have a grip on your comfort zone and instinctively stay there. Handling fire orbs isn't a courage test. Safety comes first."

"I don't think I've ever heard something this reasonable coming from you," Jongdae deadpanned, but he mirrored Chanyeol's actions, anyway. "Was that it?"

"Please," Chanyeol dismissed him, already reaching for his toolbox. "Where would the merit in that be? I was simply checking to see how you're moving along. Now comes the real test."

Jongdae remained wary as he eyed Chanyeol placing two metal objects on the grass.

"And what are these?"

"What do you think they are?" Chanyeol asked right back, placing the orbs into the round, flat surface.

"Appearance-wise, they look like candlesticks," Jongdae admitted, not sounding particularly impressed.

"And that," Chanyeol began, pointing a finger at him, "is pretty much true. A little stronger though. More similar to a blow torch. We use these at the club whenever we need to melt stuff."

He adjusted the settings and finally placed his hand around the base. It felt like he was keeping a wine glass from tipping over - definitely unusual and impractical and not the way they’d use them at the club. But for this purpose, it would be perfect.

Jongdae imitated him, obviously unsure as to where this was going.

"Should I light it?"

Chanyeol nodded.

"Go ahead."

He watched the orbs flicker to life under the other's hands, watched the tick of confusion as he realized the device was demanding a higher output. Eventually, though, Jondgae managed to light the orbal torch, producing a steady, yellow flame that seemed just easy enough for him to uphold.

"Comfy?" Chanyeol asked. Jongdae nodded.

"Good."

With this, he lit his own torch, operating with the exact same settings. It wasn't a strain at all for him but this wasn't about him.

"So, you got a better idea of what's the key to operating these?" he asked conversationally.

Jongdae didn't hesitate.

"I think I do."

When Chanyeol didn't immediately say anything, Jongdae saw himself forced to elaborate.

"It's about allowing myself... to breathe," he said slowly - awkwardly, really.

Chanyeol decided to cut him some slack; straight-forwardness and honesty may be needed to reign in wind orbs, but fire was much simpler than that, and Jongdae wasn't wrong.

Allow yourself to be yourself, that's how Chanyeol had learnt it as a kid. Apparently, he'd always been exceptionally good at that, even though the people around him liked to complain about that very trait of his.

"Right again," Chanyeol provided with a grin. "Look at you, you're on a roll."

"I'll thank you not to make fun of me," Jongdae sighed, and his flame flickered.

"Scared of compliments, huh? Well, that's only going to make this easier... for me, that is."

When Jongdae only had a dubious look in response, Chanyeol sat up straight, slipping into a comfortable position.

"Let's play a game. The first one whose flame goes out, loses."

Jongdae blinked.

"An endurance test?"

Chanyeol shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. From here on out, words are your only weapon."

Seeing the confusion on Jongdae's face was maybe a little too fun, but Chanyeol couldn't help himself.

"I'll go first. What's your favourite color?"

"I don't- understand," Jongdae admitted, brows still furrowed. Chanyeol wasn't fazed.

"Your favourite color," he repeated patiently.

"I haven't put much thought into it," Jongdae stated dismissively, gaze flitting from the candle flame back to Jongdae. "Green, probably. Now what does that have to do with-"

"Okay, cool. You want to ask me something, too?" Chanyeol cut him off. Perplexion made way for mild irritation.

"You mean, aside from what exactly you're planning? Not really."

Chanyeol was still smiling brightly, no doubt channelling his inner Yixing.

"Okay then. So it's me again, right? Let's see... when did you last think Sehun was adorable?"

Jongdae's expression froze - and his flame flickered vicariously.

Understanding blossomed on the others face and the heat of the fire seemed to get to him much faster all of a sudden.
He had to have realized it by now - that Chanyeol was trying to tip his balance, and that the flame was too strenuous to uphold when his mind wasn’t set and perfectly sorted out.

"That's-" he began, looking for words, and only after nursing his flame back to normal, did he end on a simple, "low. Very low."

He was glaring at Chanyeol now. The sight was somewhat funny.

"I never said you had to answer," Chanyeol said easily, a bit of faux innocence sprinkled on top, for good measure. "I'm just asking."

It was nothing but the truth - his goal wasn't to humiliate Jongdae. His goal was to prod and challenge him, to confront him with whatever might get him to hit his limits of self-expression and, in turn, gain a deeper understanding of his own limitations. He was effectively trying to trigger denial in him, and whether or not Jongdae voiced out a response didn't matter. It only mattered whether he was true to himself or not.

"Well. In that case, I'm not answering," Jongdae said eventually, still highly unamused.

Chanyeol hummed.

"Sure. Any questions for me?"

The flame flickered at that. Jongdae held his gaze though.

"No," he said firmly.

"Suit yourself," Chanyeol shrugged. "Then how about this... what's so interesting about photography to you?"

The candle flame flickered once more, and once more did Jongdae forego glaring at him in favour of calming the flame first.

"Where do you even get that photography nonsense from? Just because my brother suggested it?"

"For a nonsense topic, you sure have quite a few books about it," Chanyeol said nonchalantly. Understanding turned to a blank expression.

"Talk about respecting peoples’ privacy."

"Are you pouting?"

The flame flickered again.

"No? Are you going to keep talking my ear off or are we having a test here?"

Chanyeol tried not to look too amused.

"I never said our talk would have to be reduced to questions only, did I? But sure, back to those-"

"This is hardly fair," Jongdae cut him off, and he seemed loosened up enough to allow an actual whine into his voice. It may be small, but Chanyeol heard it clearly, and saw it in the surprising steadfastness of the flame - he may be uncomfortable, but in a way, he was much more comfortable than when they'd first met.

"Is this game too difficult for your highness?" he asked teasingly, leaning back on one hand while the other kept the flame alive. Jongdae gave him yet another glare.

"How am I supposed to even attempt to win this? There's absolutely nothing you'd be embarrassed about."

Chanyeol snorted.

"You think so?"

"I know so. You are easily the most shameless person I have ever met and could probably not spell restraint if someone were to write it down for you," Jongdae replied without a smidge of hesitation. "There's nothing I could be asking or telling you that would make that flame flicker and you know it."

Chanyeol bit back on his grin.

"Well, I think you're giving me a bit too much credit here, but sure. You can think of it as a mirror to your sword-fighting lesson."

"So I'm not meant to win," Jongdae deadpanned. Chanyeol gave him a one-sided shrug.

"I never said you couldn't. Feel free to try."

The next seconds were spent in silence as Jongdae stared into the flame, obviously trying to think of something, anything to confront Chanyeol with.

Chanyeol half-expected him to make a jab aimed at the Bareahard aftermath, but Jongdae was smarter than that; because now that Chanyeol had come to terms with the situation and found his resolve, thinking back to it would hardly trigger any denial - quite the opposite, probably. Chanyeol tended to be at his most impressive when he was fuelled by nobility-driven, genuine anger, and he couldn't even deny that.

After what had to be almost a minute of silence, Jongdae looked up, a tick of concentration betraying his blasé facade.

"Alright. When are you going to admit that you and Huang Zitao are quite similar?"

Chanyeol's first, visceral reaction was to bristle.

His flame flickered, and both their gazes flitted to it and back.

There was a clear challenge in Jongdae's eyes now, confident enough to surpass the insecurity, and Chanyeol hurried to put a damper on his own temper.

Think first, speak afterwards.

He didn't want to be similar to Zitao (the flame flickered) and he was most certainly not spoiled and self-centered like him (it flickered some more) but... they were both straight-forward and headstrong. Kinda hot-headed, too. Maybe, if Zitao had grown up under his circumstances...

"Sure," Chanyeol hummed eventually. "I guess you could look at it that way."

His flame was perfectly calm and Jongdae deflated slightly.

"See? I doubt there's anything for me to grasp onto here. You have much more on me than I have on you, anyway."

"You think so?" Chanyeol asked. As far as he was concerned, Jongdae had pretty much seen him at his lowest a ridiculous amount of times, and had probably gotten more of his opinions and attitude than anyone else in dorm three combined.

"I don't think you're missing out on much," he said. Jongdae lightly shook his head.

"Of course you'd say that. It doesn't change my point that the scales are tipped a ridiculous amount here. My upbringing has trained me to be- this way, so you can simply refer to whatever glimpse you've gotten. In fact, you could probably put out this flame by asking me about my latest exam results."

His flame was calm as a lake. He was very much speaking the truth, and Chanyeol smiled at the sight.

"Kinda pessimistic and a bit whiny, huh? Well, there's no shame in feeling that way. Having no prospects of winning ."

Jongdae's wary expression smoothed out into mild surprise, and the flame stood steady still.

"You said it yourself earlier," Chanyeol added. "First and foremost, you need to allow yourself to breathe. Allow yourself to be yourself. The flame says you're doing quite alright."

Embarrassed, Jongdae broke eye contact.

"Well, that's probably due to the fact that you stopped asking me questions."

Chanyeol hummed.

"Yes, yes, I'm getting to it already," he said in faux exasperation. His smile slowly faded, though, when a certain thought took the chance to rise to the surface.

"Say, did you get in trouble back there? At your villa?" he asked, voice dropping as he watched Jongdae carefully. The other only reacted by knitting his brows together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said your father had ulterior motives for inviting us over," Chanyeol trailed off, knowing full well that he was treading on thin ice. "But he also explicitly demanded to talk to you in private. I was just wondering whether you got in trouble."

It was true - he had been wondering about that, completely unrelated to this little practice session.

Jongdae blinked, clearly taken aback. Ultimately, however, the candle flame had done nothing but quiver in uncertainty as he'd initially heard the question. It was perfectly calm now.

"It was nothing but a minor scolding. To my understanding, those are quite common between parents and children."

"So you did mess up."

"He was merely dissatisfied with me choosing to stay at the third dorm. It wasn't the first time I disappointed him and it will likely not be the last," Jongdae said dismissively. "It's nothing to worry about."

Huh, Chanyeol thought to himself. Interesting. Something about this response was interesting but he didn't get any further questions in as Jongdae sighed.

"Why am I even answering this? Either way, it's my turn now," he stated with fresh determination. His next question came out surprisingly fast, and somehow felt like it followed Chanyeol's last one.

"What's the name of the house that made you blame the nobility for everything bad happening in the world?"

It was Chanyeol's turn to feel caught off guard now. He had no idea what he'd expected, but this sure wasn't it.

He looked around their surroundings with a frown, fingers tapping on the device as he tried to remember.

"Cho, I guess? I mean, there were quite a few nobles back then, but that sibling duo really cemented it, I'd say."

Jongdae barely had to think about it.

"The small barony east of Roer, near the border?" he asked in mild disbelief. The speed at which he'd replied was maybe the first and only time Chanyeol could say that he reminded him of his father. How many hours had he spent learning all these names and locations by heart?

Chanyeol could only shrug.

"Yeah. The size of their grounds doesn't really matter, does it? Any form of nobility puts you in a higher place than the common folk. My school had people from all over the area, kinda like the Academy."

"And they used their name against you?" Jongdae asked with thinly veiled distaste dusting every syllable.

Chanyeol chuckled, even though this was hardly a laughing matter.

"Not me. That would have been fine. They ganged up on a few people, but one girl... they made her life hell. I guess she only stayed for as long as she did to make her parents proud? You know there's not really another school in the area unless you go to the capital."

Jongdae nodded.

"It's either this or Sunday school."

"Yeah," Chanyeol trailed off. It was by far not the first time he thought back to these days, but definitely the most conscious one. "Maybe a pastor would not have tolerated such nonsense, but who can really tell? Our teachers certainly looked the other way."

He adjusted his posture, absently running his fingertips over the metal without compromising the flame.

"Even looking back years later, it was... brutal, really. Whatever kind of harassment you could think of, they'd engage in it like it was some sort of competition. Sure, we were all kids back then, but you'd be surprised what children can come up with."

"I probably would be," Jongdae admitted quietly.

Chanyeol nodded to himself more than anything.

"Yeah. Not a fun time. I mean, of course I tried to put a stop to it. But at some point, she got really mad at me for doing so."

For a moment, Jongdae seemed confused, but of course he understood the implications quickly. All of this was a game he'd been born into, after all.

Chanyeol still spelled it out.

"She yelled at me to stop it, telling me I made it all worse," he sighed, biting his lips to buy himself more time. "I think that was the trigger, actually. Should have answered her name, huh? But it doesn't feel quite right."

"Because it wouldn't have been," Jongdae said calmly, gaze somber. "What became of her?"

Chanyeol shrugged.

"She ended up leaving the school, after all, shortly before we all graduated. I hope she's doing well now."

"Not hoping for revenge, I see?" Jongdae stated rather than asked, and Chanyeol shook his head.

"Nah, she's suffered enough. I'll take care of that. I'll kick every noble's and I'll do it right this time."

Jongdae lifted an eyebrow at that.

"Oh? Does that include me? And Yixing?"

"...fine. Every noble who asks for it," Chanyeol corrected himself begrudgingly.

Jongdae huffed out a faint chuckle at that, and Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at him.

"What? If you're about to tell me to grow up, you can save it. I'm not gonna pretend like I have forgiven them. Though I guess you can figure that much."

"Forgiveness needs to be earned," Jongdae only hummed, every trace of mirth already faded. "And sometimes, the price seems too high to even be achieved in one lifetime."

Chanyeol blinked. It was commonly preached by society that forgiving people was the right thing to do. To have someone as well-mannered and perfectly groomed as Jongdae express doubts about that was a bit surprising.

"Either way, I can't believe you even disclosed such a story without a trace of hesitation," Jongdae sighed, staring forlorny at Chanyeol's ever so steady flame.

"Well, why not? I would have told you or the others any day - you just never asked," Chanyeol said flippantly, ready to move on from this topic. Much unlike Jongdae, who was still staring at the flames without really seeing them. Seeing him so... gloomy, really, had not been his intention at all. He may know how to handle bored, angry, stuck up, or moody Jongdae, but this was new and unknown territory.

He observed the others features that lacked every bit of the purposeful mask he’d worn during their breakfast as he was struck by a sudden idea.

With a mischievous grin, he reached out and placed his own, free hand over Jongdae's.

The effect was instantaneous as Jongdae flinched and ripped his hand free, effectively extinguishing the flame within a second.

He looked so startled that Chanyeol couldn't help snorting.

Jongdae only stared at him, wide-eyed and completely shell-shocked.

"What was that?" he asked, not even managing to sound properly dubious. Chanyeol extinguished his own flame and leaned back on his hands, still chuckling.

"I'd say you lost."

Jongdae blinked some more, eyes flitting down to the device and then back to Chanyeol as understanding bloomed on his face - followed by annoyance.

"That's- you caught me off guard," he said accusingly, and, when Chanyeol didn't immediately reply, "do it again."

"Hm?" Chanyeol asked, pretty sure he hadn't heard this right. Jongdae wasn't meeting his eye though, choosing to stare down at his hand as he re-lit the flame.

"I said do it again. Give me a proper chance."

"Because life is known to be fair, huh?" he asked, but complied nonetheless, placing his hand above Jongdae's. The flame began to flicker violently the moment their skin touched but Jongdae only closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose.

His hand was tiny under Chanyeol's, and every bit as warm as his own, after being so close to heat for such a long time.

Chanyeol felt said heat rise to his face as the seconds ticked on - this was so awkward. He'd only meant to tease the other, exploiting the fact that he clearly hated skinship of any kind. The idea had come to him after spending a day near Huang Zitao, who didn't seem to understand the concept of personal space. He hadn't expected Jongdae to take it so seriously but right now, the other seemed more focused than ever, and Chanyeol watched the flame flicker like a restless heart, to the point that he thought it might go out once more - only for it to settle down.
By the time Jongdae's eyes fluttered open, the flame was almost perfectly still, having taken on a much brighter shade than before, appearing almost white.

For a moment, none of them said a word as Chanyeol was torn between the pretty-looking flame and the feeling of the other’s small fingers under his, tickled by the sudden urge to interlace their hands-

"Guess I win," Jongdae said quietly, voice a low, very fragile mix of pride, mirth, and nerves.

Chanyeol snapped back into it, drawing away his hand.

"I mean, technically, the one whose flame dies loses," he grumbled, busying himself by quickly taking apart the devices. "I wasn't even playing anymore."

He heard Jongdae hum.

"I see. And technically, the rules were words only, so I'd say you lost by default."

"Life doesn't play by rules, anyway," Chanyeol replied, aimlessly tossing more wood into the fire that was this losing battle of a conversation.

"You're only proving my point here and considering your fire orb talent, I think it's safe to assume you're aware of your defeat."

Chanyeol groaned.

"You can't sell your opinions as facts! But still, I never said you didn't improve."

"A double negation," Jongdae said in mock respect. "At this rate, you'll be able to uphold an actual conversation with an educated adult before graduation."

"If you're my only frame of reference, I doubt I'll get there at all," Chanyeol snapped, reaching for the second orbment.
Jongdae didn't have a smart reply to that aside from a huff, but that was alright. The sun was already setting and it had been a long day. To think that just this morning, he'd been arguing with Zitao over breakfast, only to toss all his honest opinions into his face hours later... though if he was being even more inclusive, he'd also have to take into account how he'd awoken that day from this very inappropriate dream- Chanyeol lightly shook his head. 

Terrible time to think about this.

When he looked up, Jongdae was looking towards the horizon, watching the last sun rays slather the nearby town buildings in gold. Due to the trees above them, there was an ever-moving pattern of light and shadow blanketing them both, occasionally highlighting the other's hair and eyes. To say that he looked peaceful might be a bit much, but he didn't look particularly concerned, embarrassed or angry.

The sight reminded Chanyeol that technically, he still owed him. Not for his few combat lessons, but for showing up the week prior and refusing to leave before Chanyeol had regained his spirit.

Chanyeol was a lot of things, but certainly not one to not pay his debts. So he closed his tool box with a soft click and swallowed down any uncertainty he might feel.

"You should practice occasionally," he said.

"Practice what?" Jongdae asked, sounding fairly neutral and non-confrontational.

"Taking photos," Chanyeol said, as if it was the most obvious answer. "Why not practice a bit until you actually join the club?"

The guarded expression was already returning, but it was a slow process this time around.

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" he asked blankly, properly folding his hands in his lap. "If you think that due to my background, I'm a reckless spender-"

"I never said to buy an actual camera," Chanyeol cut him off with a wave of his hand. In response to Jongdae's quizzical look, he lifted his hands. With the tips of his pointer fingers meeting his thumbs, he formed a little rectangle, framing mostly the sky, with the tips of a roof and trees.

He could feel Jongdae look at him, but kept his gaze on the golden sky.

"See? You do it just like this," he explained slowly, squinting as he tried to decide on the perfect angle.

When he turned, Jongdae was wearing an entirely unreadable look, and he saw his fingers twitch in his lap-

And then he got to his feet with a scoff.

"That might be one of the dumbest things I've ever heard," he muttered, checking his uniform for stains. Predictably, he stepped away first, refusing to meet his gaze; just like he usually did whenever he felt humiliated. It gave Chanyeol an odd sense of deja-vu, and for some reason, he found himself grinning even as he was left behind once more.

...or so he thought, because Jongdae stopped a few feet away, only to turn around.

"Are you not coming? You're on cooking duty, are you not?" he asked, demanded, really, and something about it was so casual that this time, Chanyeol was the one too taken aback for a smart reply. That was alright though - the walk to the dorm took at least ten minutes and he'd have plenty of time to come up with one.

Most of the time he ended up spending on the fact that nothing but a streak of luck had saved him from losing face that day.
Because part of him was pretty sure that if he’d still been operating the orbmental torch earlier, holding Jongdae’s hand like that would have probably extinguished his flame. And he wasn’t quite sure what to think of that yet.
 

Woo, Happy New Year!
Well, I guess this is a tad early, but I'll be out working all day tomorrow, so I felt like uploading this now.
And to celebrate this day, it's a long chapter!

(Definitely not because I refuse to split it)

I hope you guys have a wonderful start into the new year. 2020 was... one hell of a ride, and 2021 won't magically make a 180°, but after this year? We're definitely ready.
Either way, I wish you guys great food, warm blankets and nice company, be it in person or via chat.
Much love,
Sugary ♡

P.S.: if, for whatever reason, you're invested in this fic, I can point you to my twitter (@sugaryandsalted) where I not only share my progress on this fic quite regularly, but where I also occasionally post polls to make some decisions! For this chapter, I had people vote whether Chanyeol would use words or actions to finally tip Jongdae's balance for good, and people voted for actions - which was a lot of fun to write ♡