It’s on a Wednesday in Kyungsoo’s café that Sehun first catches sight of those doe eyes staring imploringly at him, almost begging him to walk over to that seat by the windowsill, where the flowers sit right above a head of hazelnut hair. Luhan, Sehun finds out, was not looking at him at all, but it’s alright because he wanted company anyway. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, and Sehun just sips on peppermint tea while watching Luhan’s slim fingers ghost over bumps and dots as he reads novels faster than Sehun ever could.

  On a Saturday exactly 9 weeks after, Sehun ducks in through the pastel pink doors to the café, shaking water droplets out of his hair. He slides into the seat by the window, feeling the light tap tap tap of a weekend drizzle against the glass on his back. Luhan is reading again, but it’s a different book this time. Luhan takes peppermint this time, so Sehun orders licorice instead. Today, Sehun brings out his sketchpad, something he doesn’t usually do. Pulling a pencil out from behind his ear, he begins to draw, grey lines flowing onto the paper in effortless . Luhan perks up at the sound of lead on paper, turning his head in Sehun’s general direction. Luhan quickly deduces that Sehun is drawing something, and asks what it is. Sehun simply answers that he is drawing memories for the future, and leaves it at that.

  On Sunday morning, rain is still falling in a steady drizzle. The streets are dampened by the wet autumn rain, people huddled together with about 10 jackets on. Sehun brings an extra scarf because he predicts that Luhan will forget his again. His sketchpad is wrapped in more jackets than he is, just in case the rain decides to probe its watery fingers in between the pages. Luhan seems happier today, wrapped snugly in both of Sehun’s scarves. Probably because he’s finished yet another one of those books. Sehun would never read a book. That is, unless Luhan asked him to.

  Luhan brings back the sun with good news as golden light filters past the flowers on the windowsill. He’s elated, almost jumping out of his seat. When Sehun hears the reason behind Luhan’s happiness, he feels like jumping over the moon, but sticks with enveloping him in a warm embrace.

  Sehun hates this place; the cold, sterile floors and blue surgical gloves seem to jump out at him. He clutches Luhan’s hand, his own palms almost as cold as the steel rails on the portable bed. Squeaky wheels take them to a room full of faceless nurses, as Luhan is put under a bright fluorescent light. Sehun concentrates on those slim hands as he waits for the procedure to be over. As much as he hates it here, he wants to be the first thing Luhan sees when the anesthesia wears off.

  For hours, Sehun is staring patiently at long eyelashes, just waiting. Exactly 204 minutes after Luhan is wheeled to a hospital room, Sehun watches bright doe eyes catch sight of him, tears of joy trickling down porcelain cheeks. Sehun smiles, passing Luhan the drawing.

  Luhan’s sitting at that same windowsill, a tuft of hazelnut hair under a vase of flowers, slim fingers ghosting over bumps and dots.

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wtf am I writing. idek why this isn't in my drabble collection, but I'll probs link y'all. sub, upvote and comment your thoughts if you have any.