Sing. His heart was singing all the right tunes for Minho. Key's caresses were like notes sinking deep into Minho's skin and parading a melody throughout him. His fingers drummed a soft song on the boy's chest, but he never paid mind to the beat. His own lyrics were weak, because he could never let the correct words escape him to sing that sweet, sweet song Minho needed to hear. 

 

Key shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. He peeled himself away from Minho, their bodies gently creating a suction from Key's sweat. He gathered his clothes, placing them in a hamper in the corner of the room. He twirled, lost in his own heartsong as he made his way to the bathroom. Minho observed him curiously from the bed, memorizing his creator's cat like movements and deciding to imitate them himself soon. His mechanical brain was becoming more and more full of thoughts that had to be his own. He was evolving into something incredibly intelligent, but he couldn't understand the shock in his internal system when Key touched him. It wasn't something that hurt or burned, but his mind didn't know how to recognize the feeling he wasn't equipped with. His system scanned through his libraries rapidly, acknowledging what he had learned about physical pain to humans, but it wasn't what he was looking for. Key turned to him before entering the bathroom and cocked his head.

 

"Are you alright, Minho?" 

 

Minho's eyes met Key from across the room and he placed his hands in his lap, "I am unable to find the file I'm seeking, Sir." He frowned, now crossing his arms childishly as Key often did.

 

"But I didn't ask for any data." Key swung around the doorframe, approaching Minho carefully.

 

"Key I..." he bit his lip and flipped it back out nervously, "I still do not understand love because you have not explained it. I can't find books about love, nor anything in your writings. I am failing you." 

 

Key sighed, fighting back a smile, as his hand reached out to cradle Minho's chin, "You're not failing me, Minho. I don't know if it's anything you'll ever understand. I'm going to take a bath, but feel free to browse the stack of papers in the locked drawer of my desk. The key is in my bag." He kissed him lightly and left as soon as his lips left Minho's. 

 

He wandered into the parlor, never bothering to dress himself. The bag was in the corner by the door, sitting lonely and slumped. His fingers wandered over the leather until finding the buckle and flipping it open. He probed inside, searching with only his long fingers for the tiny, silver key. Unable to feel the cool metal, he only pulled it out based on it's weight. He crawled to the desk and his clumsy hand fumbled the key into the lock. The drawer was yanked a bit roughly and fell into his lap, ruffling the papers in it's nest. He scanned over the words carefully, processing their contents at rapid speed. His lips parted in a forced sigh and he read the first words out loud.

 

"Dear Jonghyun." He pondered over the heading and scraped at his memory for the name Jonghyun, but the data was corrupted and blocked from him. It was as if it were a song building in his psyche, but he couldn't get himself to sing.