ATEEZ IMAGINES

K.HJ & J.YH - My dear best friend

The café is quiet at this hour, as a closed sign hangs on the entrance of the place. It is usually in the evening hours when the owner of the place decides to take a break and concentrate on improving his skills in the art of coffee making. As expected from the young boy, he stands behind the grey marble counter, swirling the white coloured liquid in a glass, then pours it into another cup of espresso. He successfully paints a white heart in the cup, but it slowly disappears as he pours more of the liquid. He gives up, taking off his apron that had his name, 'Hongjoong' sewn down on it and places it on the desk under the counter.

"Hyung~" There he comes, the owner's best friend and the hero of the neighbourhood. A tall boy appears from the entrance of the small studio as the bells jingle. His eyes, familiar with the place's bright interior, take a quick glance at the new additions. The soft golden light hanging from the ceiling brought a new feel to the café. It made his heart more calm, and the scent of lavender soothed his nerves. Of course, sighting Joong behind the counter, busy with work, is his favourite sight.

Hongjoong smiles at him when he spots his friend, still dressed in his school uniform. The green jacket, which the barista had reformed for him, completed his outfit. He swore Yunho looked good in every piece of clothing. It had to be one of the superpowers besides charming everyone with his perfectly sculpted face and big sweet eyes.

"Aren't you bored yet? You can try tomorrow too!" He places his school bag on one of the tables and goes to pull Hongjoong out.

"Ya! Stop! " Hongjoong growls, trying to get Yunho's hand off his arm, but he fails as the younger's grip is awfully strong.

"Just give up, Hyung. You'll never get it right." Yunho ruffles the shorter's orange coloured hair, then goes to bop his nose, but Hongjoong slaps away his hand before his finger touches his nose.

"I almost did it. I just... I need to try again."

"It's okay. You can always try again." Yunho murmurs, rummaging through the contents placed on the counter. "Also Hyung, wanna play with me?"

"I'm sure I'll lose so, ...NO." He leaves the room, walking towards the other end of the café, near the backdoor, where a flight of stairs leads to his bedroom upstairs.

After placing back the container of caramel sauce on the counter as he calls after Joong but the tired barista doesn't answer back. Yunho is quick to follow Joong but as he climbs the flight of stairs his eyes rather get absorbed in adoring the emerald railing, his fingers gripping them as he climbs them up. Upon reaching the upper level, he stands in front of Joong's partially open bedroom which he pushes to walk in onto the little boy laid back on his bed, staring at the white ceiling. His eyes wander around the room before getting stuck on the window beside his bookshelf, in front of which a chair sits in its white glory. He imagines how his beloved friend spends his evenings as he makes himself comfortable in the leather chair as he reads himself his favourite classic and gazes out the window, at his precious garden.

Yunho often hears stories from Joong featuring his garden and the creatures that he suspects might be living there. Honestly, he laughs it off when he hears Joong mentions sighting a fairy or some magical creature, but on occasional boring evenings, he finds himself wondering about the secrets of his best friend's garden and the magic they harbour as the flowers thrive all around the year. Even during winters. It's symbolic of his friendship with the barista which hasn't had the need to be mended throughout the years, and he treasures their bond as it is so dear to his heart. Joong is a perfect friend one could ask for on Christmas Eve under the Christmas tree. He presents Yunho with the most heart-touching gifts on his birthdays, on special days which are any other day of the year in the boy's mind.

Yunho's hands hover over the cover of the books lined up on the shelf as his eyes read through all their titles and hoping to find an exciting work of literature amongst them. There it is, his fingers grim over the edge of the leather cover as they pick out the book and open it up. The title read, 'the last battle' and the first page answered all of his doubts. It is a story from 'the chronicles of Narnia', Hyung's favourite series ever, as he remembers hearing from the mighty Hongjoong himself. "Hyung, let me read you something." He seats himself on the chair and begins reading the words aloud for Joong to hear, who now lays comfortably on his bed with his attention darted towards Yunho.

Hongjoong listens attentively as Yunho reads aloud, his sweet echoing between the walls of his pretty little bedroom as reaching his ears. He knows how the story progresses and eventually the downfall of his favourite world. The sight of Narnia crumbling to ashes is too heartbreaking for him to even imagine, and he finds himself wondering how it might have affected its residents. He soon finds himself drifting into slumber as his eyes feel heavy, and eventually they close.

"And then she understood the devilish cunning of the enemies' plan. By mixing a little truth with it, they had made their lie far stronger."

Yunho closes the book with a thud as he reads the last line of the chapter to Joong, who he finds deep in his slumber upon rising from his seat. He places the book back in its place amongst many others on the shelf.

As any good friend does, Yunho drapes the blanket over a sleeping Joong. He then opens his bedside drawer to pick out a notepad and pen. He scribbles down a few words, maybe a sentence. Without forgetting, he places back the notepad and pen back in their place, then pulls the book he had been reading minutes before to leave the scribble note lingering between one of the pages.

Yunho remembers he is to return home before the sky gets darker, and it sparkles with a brightly lit celestial body, and indeed his home is not too far from here. He lives in Joong's secret garden, amidst many others like him, who possess flight apparatuses called wings. He possessed a pair of these sparkly and glittery tools of flight, but whenever he mentioned stepping out of their world, his dear mother would cast a spell on them which concealed them to the human eye.