"So what was it about you caring again?" asks Baekhyun. Chanyeol looks at him without any specific type of emotion, really. The kind of expression he wears when he's not wearing any kind of mask, the kind of faking a smile to put awkward people at ease.

"I don't care," he says, "I honestly do not give a . My mind repeats 'I want to care, I really want to ing care', but I know I really do not give a . I always get the feeling of not truly caring. When I tell myself I want to care, there's always a voice in the far back of my mind saying 'Shut the up. I don't care.'"

He brings the plain white mug to his lips, sipping the hot chamomile tea, ignoring the fact that his tongue is burning almost painfully. He finds it only fitting. Deserving, almost.

"You have no idea how tiring it is, wanting to care when you truly don't," he sighs. "Caring is too tiring, Baek. The last time I truly cared drained me all of my energy. I stir up too much emotions. Anger, confusion, despair, being unable to do ."

Baekhyun lightly taps his silver spoon on an empty glass, a habit he had ever since he was just a little kid, troublesome and lonely. "You're living a constant lie, you want to say."

The corners of Chanyeol's mouth tugged upwards, turning into somewhat of an enigmatic smile. Or was it sad? Baekhyun couldn't really tell, not this time. "That's right," he mutters. "If I got a dollar for every time I lied, unintentionally or not, I would've been rich by now."

"Of course," Baekhyun chuckles. "Maybe you should consider a career in acting. No one can see through your fake, ty smiles except me, anyway. Girls would be swooning over your looks as if famished. Yeah, you could really turn into a rich man, Chanyeol."

Chanyeol stays silent, focusing on finishing his tea with modest sips every few seconds, almost annoyingly so. The clamor around them didn't even exist. Countless of toddlers screamed and cried, parents yelled and sighed, people complained and chattered, but it all turned mute save for their voices.

"I really love you, you know."

Baekhyun cracks a smile, an actual genuine one. Countless of lies and his heart still skips a beat whenever Chanyeol says those words. Maybe it isn't really that much of a lie, after all.

"Do you love me?"

At this point, people are supposed to say "Of course," or "I love you,". There wasn't supposed to be any moments of hesitance, perhaps not even a second or two. But Baekhyun liked to think; having some time to construct his sentences before mindlessly blurting them out, maybe with regret later, again.

Chanyeol, however, knows Baekhyun too well. He knows how he likes his tea, the amount of sweeteners, the perfect temperature, what flavors he loved and when the perfect time was to serve them. All for dear Baekhyun. He knows he's more actions than words, just like himself. That's why he appreciates the fact that Baekhyun leaned forwards, warm breath ghosting over his lips before another pair softly pressed themselves against his, gentle with a sprinkle of shy.




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A/N: half-based on personal experience.