The tabletop was covered with scattered pages, uncapped markers, and bits of stationery.
Jiho shaded in the final detail, then yawned as he glanced at the time, it was almost six.
Morning had begun for some, while for others, it was just time to sleep.
Like him.
He took off his glasses and stretched out his arms, muttering, "When are you planning to g—"
Jiho paused when he turned around.
There he was — Seo Minjae.
Soft hair tousled and unruly.
Curled up awkwardly on the too-small couch, hand draped over his eyes.
Sleeping. Peacefully.
He's not pretending, is he? …Scared I'll kick him out?
Why did he even let him in? Maybe, because he look a bit tired...
"Sunbae…" Jiho called out under his breath as he walked over.
There was no response.
Jiho decided to push it further. That's how low his level of trust was.
"Hey, Seo Minjae." He crouched lower and gave Minjae's side a light shove with his knee.
Hmm...
He's really asleep if he's not reacting to that
Jiho's lips quirked into a small smile.
He'd always imagined yelling that annoying name across campus, back when Minjae wore that damn senior uniform and walked around like he owned the place.
Now, here he was. Finally saying it.
Jiho leaned closer, eyes falling on the pale blue pin clipped to Minjae's white collar.
He muttered softly,
"It's a bad habit to steal my grapefruit soda. But if you ask nicely next time, I might give it to you, Sunbae."
"…Really?"
Jiho: "...!"
Minjae lowered his arm from his eyes. There was not a single trace of sleep within them.
Jiho couldn't help but rolled his eyes.
"When did you wake up?"
"I never said I was asleep," Minjae answered, all too innocently.
"Grow up," Jiho muttered and moved to get up.
Minjae sat up slightly and smirked, eyes fixed on him.
"Continue," he said, finding it interesting. "I think you have more to say. I'm all ears."
Jiho stared at him, at that infuriatingly handsome face, and scoffed.
Minjae grinned. "Should I go to sleep, then?"
Jiho stayed.
His eyes caught on the small beauty mark below Minjae's eye.
One he wouldn't have noticed from a distance by his vision.
He swallowed and tugged his arm back.
Feigning nonchalance, he turned and walked off.
"Go sleep on the bed," he called over his shoulder. "You'll ruin your spine on that couch."
He could still hear that cocky bastard from behind him.
"You're caring for me? What, are we friends now?"
Jiho pretended not to hear him and stepped into the bathroom.
He's never gonna let that go, is he?
After a while, a turned on the shower.
For a second, he thought he heard the door open and close, but dismissed it.
Later, after drying off and throwing on a simple black shirt, he returned to the living room.
There was no one in there.
Not surprisingly, even the grocery bag was gone.
What was wrong with him? He could've at least said bye.
Jiho frowned and peeked into his bedroom.
"Sunbae?"
Just in case.
The bed was perfectly made, something Jiho certainly hadn't done.
He knew whose masterpiece it was.
A small post-it was stuck to the pot of his cactus, Roni.
Jiho peeled it off and read:
"Thanks for letting me in. Next time, hyung will buy you a delicious meal."
Jiho sighed. "Weird guy…"
Then he added silently.
My mother only gave birth to me.
Jiho glanced at the bed. He didn't have to bother with it.
Because Jiho was going to messed it again, by sleeping.
Then he noticed the wallet, neatly placed on the bedside table.
He let out a soft, tired laugh.
What a day.
Jiho flopped onto the bed, hugging his pillow tightly.
It was the weekend, after all. He could sleep a little longer.
Jiho swore he was only planning to sleep four hours, then get back to work. But when he opened his eyes, the sun was already high, shining mercilessly down on the city.
Jiho blinked at the time.
Fuck.
It was almost two in the afternoon. He scrambled up and rushed to wash up.
Brunch was two triangle kimbaps and an energy drink from yesterday.
Suffice to say, "exercise" and "diet" had long exited his vocabulary.
For two days straight, all Jiho did was sleep, work, eat, repeat.
Until one late afternoon — when he thought he could finally rest.
Someone rang the doorbell like their life depended on it.
Jiho yawned and begrudgingly dragged himself to the intercom.
"Who is it?"
A bright voice shot back,
"Yo, Jiho! Open up!"
Ugh.
Kyungho.
Jiho rubbed his eyes and opened the door.
"What are you up to—"
He freeze.
These guys…
Behind Kyungho stood a bunch of too-familiar faces.
Mr. Popular's entire crew.
"Hey, we're partying over there. Join us," said one of them, Kim Hyunsuk or something.
His arms were loaded with white plastic bags.
Without mentioning, Jiho already knew where he meant.
Jiho looked around and mentally prepared to say no.
"Um… I still have some work."
But Kyungho blurted, "Didn't you tell me you were done?"
"…Did I? You must be mistaken," Jiho muttered, silently cursing.
Get a hint, dude.
Kyungho scratched his head. "Is that so? I thought you said—ahh! What?!"
Jiho had pinched his arm.
He forced a smile at the expectant eyes staring at him.
"I'll take a shower and come. You guys go ahead first."
Gunwoo, off to the side, nodded casually. "The party won't start until seven anyway. Take your time."
Kyungho threw an arm around Hyunsuk and beamed. "Hurry up, bro. I'll be waiting."
Jiho kept up his strained smile.
Then shut the door.
Hard.
He leaned his forehead against it with a groan.
He needed time.
Time to mentally prepare himself for any form of social networking.
With a sigh, he dragged himself toward the bathroom, muttering under his breath.
"This is why I don't make friends."