“Good morning.” Chanyeol said, hair ruffled in a mess and his bare chest exposed.

The thing about Byun Baekhyun is, he’s a morning person. And not only that, he enjoys cooking despite having his own personal chef. The woman would insist him to stay rested while she set up breakfast. But Baekhyun always waved her off.

Taking out a carton of milk out of the fridge, Baekhyun greet his guest with a genuine smile. “Good morning too, Mister.”

“What happened?” The therapist asked in a daze.

“You and sleep walking, that’s what happen.”

Chanyeol sat on a stool and set his head on the kitchen island. “I remember you telling me something…” he fell silent. A snore escaped from the male and Baekhyun sighed disapprovingly.

He couldn’t contain the guilt, but he was grateful too. Chanyeol has been a good listener last night, waking up just so he could calm the frightened Baekhyun. He hates it, for every moment his eyes closed, images of his misleading memories ran like a broken movie.

And it always leads to him kicking the sheets, hands frantic to reach for support. Gladly, Chanyeol pulled him close enough to realize that he’s not alone. Baekhyun hates waking at odd hours, letting his weakness drown him.

Sneakily, while Chanyeol was sleeping, he raked the male’s memories out -deleting his vulnerable image of shattering right beneath his wrapped arms that night.

Hence, explains the ed up condition of Mr. Park -sleeping soundly as fatigue eats him.

Baekhyun set the milk on the island, earning a soft flinch from the sleeping male. Chanyeol laid his face to the side and look up. Mumbling, he said, “I never felt this tired.”

“Well, you should get your sleeping problems to action. Seek for a cure.”

“I don’t remember having problems with sleeping. We’re practically married, trust me. I never disappoint sleeping, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun smiled by Chanyeol’s determination to prove that he did not sleep walking. Something happened last night, but he’s not sure. It was evident all over Chanyeol’s face.

“Do you want to know what really happened?” Chanyeol hummed in response. Baekhyun decided to tease and said, “You won’t like the details.”

“I have nightmares?”

“No.”

“Or we had…” Chanyeol started and Baekhyun immediately shakes his head. “Really? What else did we do? What did I do this time?”

“We talked. All night.”

Confused, Chanyeol closes his eyes. “That’s not logical at all.”

“The thing we talked about leads to your condition. I’m sorry, though.”

“I don’t get it.”

Baekhyun pursed his lips. “No, you don’t.”

“Are you hurt?” concerned etched in Chanyeol’s replies.

Baekhyun smiled faintly and pour the milk on two glasses. “More like you’ve set my mind at ease last night.”

“I’m grateful for that. The last thing I want is to make a sick person sick.” Baekhyun slides one of the glasses, ushering the male to drink.

Chanyeol sat up slowly, stretching his sore muscles. His arms straightened, extending his shoulder blades to release the ache of a tiring night.

Baekhyun proceed to turn over and tiptoed on the walled cabinets. In his hands, a glass bowl fits three liquids of eggs and a portion of milk. He stirred it ambitiously, sprinkled salt and pepper accordingly. Chanyeol watched the show while sipping more of the fresh milk.

“How are you today, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked in ways to initiate a conversation. “You look like you have a great slumber.”

I can’t sleep. Not even a wink. “You know I sleep like a log.”

“Bummer. I look wrecked with or without enough sleep.” Chanyeol placed the glass on the table and tangled both his hands together. “How did you look radiant every day?”

“I don’t. It’s the lack of sleep effect, Chanyeol. You tend to see other people radiances when you yourself are in a gloomy state.”

“Stop lying.”

“What?”

Smirking, Chanyeol play the teasing part this time. “You know you look good. Stop pretending.”

“Chanyeol.” Baekhyun turned his body to face the male. “What I know is I am pretty normal.”

“Well, you’re gorgeous.” It came out as a whisper. Chanyeol clenched his jaw shut, regretting the fact that his loose mouth releases secret admiring.

Baekhyun paused and pretend that those sentences are fragments of false memories too. In his case, mishearing the auburn haired male sudden admiration.

You haven’t seen yourself sleeping, Mr. Park.

“Jongdae called. He’s asking for your assistance today.”

“Does it involve his grocery shopping?”

Baekhyun shrugged as he flips the omelets. “He said it’s important.”

“That must be it. What did you tell him?”

“You were sleeping.”

Chanyeol straightened his body as Baekhyun set the plate before him. “What did he say?”

“About what?”

“About me sleeping here.”

Baekhyun takes his seat beside Chanyeol, oblivious to Chanyeol’s question. “His first reaction was: wow.”

“Did you tell him nothing happened?”

A slow smile formed on Baekhyun’s lips. If you consider hugging as ‘nothing’, then yes. “Yes. Nothing happens. I was telling him that you came to take care of me.”

Chanyeol nods his head in acknowledgement. He started to poke on the food with his utensils and eat his portion. It was melt in the mouth omelet –cooked to perfection. He wondered the cook’s ability to make food tastes more than it should be. It was handled with care, just like Baekhyun is.

The man was gentle, kind and warm. Chanyeol chew appreciatively and let his breakfast took him before he set off to work. Clad in a clean suit, Chanyeol bid the male goodbye before he starts his normal routine.

Strolling along the aisle of canned food, Chanyeol sighed tiredly as Jongdae forced to accompany him on a shopping spree. Being unwed has its perks –they have to do their own shopping. Chanyeol, was lucky enough that spare the time with a wife in his young age.

Well, not anymore. He practically dragged his singlehood and start to learn the knowledge of choosing the best product at minimum cost as possible. It was tiresome, especially for someone who heard the rants of mentally unhealthy clients all day.

“What do you think of this one?” Jongdae showed him canned beans while the others of the same sort held up, slightly smaller in size. “I don’t think I’ll eat a lot of beans in the morning.”

Jongdae had always fond of western breakfast. It reminded him of late lover, Minseok, who loved anything that involves beans. It was melancholic, truth to be told. But Chanyeol is not in the position to comment. He himself has a ruined life, compare to the broken best friend.

“You should go for the smaller ones. Save a few bucks, I’d say.” Chanyeol suggested and went over to take another two of his suggestive canned beans as Jongdae instruct him.

“Don’t you have a list too? You should’ve sorted that out, Yeol. Eating ramen is not healthy.” Jongdae nagged. The taller friend rolled his eyes as Jongdae lecture him on the importance of having a balanced diet. “You don’t want to look eighty when you’re only forty, darling.”

“That’s exaggerating, Jongdae. I’m not even thirty.”

“Hell, your face looks terrible. What did you do last night?” there’re tones of accusation that lies in Jongdae’s response. He was itching for the truth from Chanyeol since the male rushed out of the building without informing him.

And the excuse tending a sick ‘friend’ is not acceptable. Jongdae hint something between the two. Chanyeol’s silence on the topic supported his idea.

“You need to tell me, Yeol. It’s not healthy.” Jongdae said again.

Chanyeol shrugged, giving nothing away. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Jongdae slapped the man’s arm teasingly. They started to bicker, laughing and calling each other names. It’s funny how childish they were, given their profession. But they guessed it was reassuring, a solid foundation of understanding in the circle of great friendships.

Walking out of the aisle, Chanyeol obediently rolled the trolley until they stopped at the vegetable section. Jongdae took off to the other side, distracted by free food sampling. The best friend promised that it’ll only take a while –that was ten minutes ago.

Boredom strikes Park Chanyeol, taking and inspecting the bundle of fresh greens. The smell radiating from the raw food makes him remember a certain location. It was right in the backyard of Byun’s manor -where varieties of gardening are planted.

“Chanyeol.” A voice greeted behind him. Chanyeol looked up and smiled at the young man. “It really is you.”

“Kyungsoo.”

The atmosphere between them turned into a deafening clatter of sounds -the sound of bleeping machine, the rolling of trolley wheels and the soft murmurs of people deciding dinner recipes. Kyungsoo always have this effect on him. The effect is not foreign to him –the effect of his animosity.

“This is my boyfriend.” Kyungsoo stepped to the side, revealing a tall platinum haired man. His face held authority, telling the others that Kyungsoo is his alone. “Said hi, Jongin.”

“Hello. I failed to acknowledge that you’re my therapist’s colleague.”

Kim Jongin is what he called someone with poor anger management. Proved by his background and possessiveness, the idea to consult professional advice actually help the relationship between him and Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol nods and politely smiled. He remembered the sudden kissing session he had with Kyungsoo, as the man seek for c