Our Days

Master

"He Tian, that punk. Did he lie to us?" Jian scolded open air as he and Zheng waddled their way up the hill.

When they made it over the clearing, there was a large white mansion, some place two teenage boys like them should not have the honor of seeing.

Having Zheng mom drop them off at such a place had been hard to make excuses for, as she fought with them to stay in the car before they left.

By the time they ran away from the car to escape from her interrogation, Jian had already gotten a text from He Tian himself.

Brother He> Are you here yet punks? You better be.

Jian Yi rolled his eyes and texted back with a taunting reply, smirking at his own downfall.

"He might not be outside yet. This place...well, it's big," Zheng defended with wide eyes.

The landscape was nothing more than incredible. There were these large and wise trees surrounding the mansion, and colorful flowers lining the pathway leading up to the front entrance that they weren't aware even existed in the country of China.

Jian couldn't resist reaching down and plucking one of them. It was a big purple flower, which he definitely didn't know the name of. He turned back to the boy next to him, catching a glimpse of that handsomely troubled expression he always seemed to wear.

He had on black ripped jeans his sister stuffed him in to expose some slivers of tan skin, and a white shirt that flowed perfectly with the slenderness of his toned body. A black bag rested on his shoulder with both their clothes inside that he promised to carry.

His hair was slightly blowing with the frill of the wind, but his skin was steady and clear in the morning peak of freshness. He smelled good too, making Jian shove his nose into the flower to rid himself of the intense aroma that would surely torture him in his wake if he stood to close.

"Why are you making those noise, weirdo?" Zheng questioned with concerned eyes.

Jian Yi sobered and shimmied in closer to Zheng. He smirked with as he pushed his brows up and down in a teasing manner. Then, he reached forward and presented the flower as if it were the most glorious of gifts.

"A flower that matches your handsome face," he said.

Blush surely filled Jian's cheeks, but nothing compared to the expression on Zheng's face as he huffed and turned away. He was definitely trying to ignore the complaint, but Jian was great at pestering.

When Jian tried to hand him the flower again, Zheng smacked the boy on the back of the head. He hunched forward with the force and dropped the flower on the ground. It was already starting to wilt, an analogy to his broken heart.

He turned with that stupid pout. Zheng rolled his eyes and reached forward to smoosh his cheeks in his hand, something he did now on impulse when having to constantly look at the boys pitiful expressions.

Eventually he let ago.

"Go on, keep walking," Zheng scolded. Jian didn't even argue, just whimpered and rubbed at the back of his head where it still ached.

Zheng scoffed, looking to the flower on the ground. Without a second thought, he reached down and grabbed it, then shoved it quietly into the front pocket of his bag. Making sure Jian didn't notice, he glanced forward where the boy was still walking, and followed behind.

He caught up, Jian barely putting a pep to his step. When that silence continued to brew, Zheng groaned.

"Thanks. For calling me handsome," he said.