Beomgyu and Yeonjun have been friends since childhood. Beomgyu, the son of a CEO of a luxury car company. Yeonjun, an orphan on a scholarship for their arts school. The feelings have always been there, but neither brave enough to voice them.
When Be...
The first thing Beomgyu notices about the ward, as he lies down in his stark room for two, is how uncomfortable the bed is.
The sheets are scratchy, the mattress too hard for his liking. He twists and pulls the blanket over him—weightless compared to the down comforter he's used to. He tries to find a comfortable position. But even the pillow is uncooperative. Shifting around with just as much malleability as a rock.
The walls are white and plain. There's a single window overlooking the hospital courtyard—at least he won't be too claustrophobic. He doesn't have a roommate just yet. But he's not looking forward to sharing a room for the first time in his life. Well, that's not counting Yeonjun, who's slept in his bed multiple times. Sometimes by accident, sometimes because he was just too lazy to go home.
He misses Yeonjun.
He doesn't know how he got here. Actually, he does, but it doesn't make much sense to him.
A month ago, he was fine. Then, almost overnight, his vitality began to fade. At the same time, he couldn't fall asleep. He lost all appetite, pulled at his hair and nails until midnight turned to sunrise. He spent all of his willpower going to school and trying to pull himself back to his usual routine. He tried his best to appear vibrant in front of Yeonjun. Beomgyu didn't want to worry him.
He's always been on the emotional side, but it never took a total downturn until the symptoms began. About a week ago, his mood had full-on spiraled, along with his energy being completely sapped. He began to have thoughts about death. Which didn't make much sense. He was fine when the semester began in August.
He couldn't tell Yeonjun. He couldn't tell his parents. He just needed a good night's rest—that would fix everything.
But even after he finally fell asleep, he woke up with dread racing through his whole body like hot blood. He finally told his parents that he needed to see the doctor. Something was very wrong.
The doctor believes he's in the throng of his first depressive episode. He needs to be stabilized, getting on medication and awaiting his diagnosis.
He misses Yeonjun. Did he already have that thought?
*
Beomgyu and Yeonjun were twelve.
They lied in Beomgyu's bed together. It was long past midnight, and Beomgyu's parents thought they were both asleep.
"What's it like living with foster parents?" Beomgyu had asked.
"It sucks," Yeonjun said. "I wish I could live with you."
You can, he wanted to say, but instead he fought with a bubble of laughter. "I'm not sharing my room."
"You are now," Yeonjun said. He reached out and tickled him.
Beomgyu almost catapulted out of bed. "Stop! You'll wake my parents."
Yeonjun placed his arms around Beomgyu, pulling the smaller boy closer. So that they aligned, their shoulders touching and their torsos almost completely flush.
Beomgyu was shocked. He thought he was dreaming. "What are you doing?"
"I just feel a bit cold tonight," Yeonjun said. "No blanket is warmer than you."
"I could get the heated blanket from my closet...." Beomgyu's voice trailed off.
Yeonjun was breathing deeply already, drifting off. His arms relaxed when he fell asleep, but Beomgyu still felt the pull. The magnet of his touch. He eventually fell asleep too, but not after an hour of having Yeonjun's breath brush past his ear, the rise and fall of his lungs echoing his own.
That was the first time he felt longing, so deep in his heart that he didn't know what to name it.
When he woke up, Yeonjun was gone. But the ghost of his touch was still there.
Beomgyu tried to convince Yeonjun multiple times afterwards to live with him and his parents. But it was like their conversation past midnight never happened. The taller boy acted like it was a personal insult. I can handle myself. We can't be together all the time, Beomgyu.
It hurt, the way his offer was just being pushed aside.
It was a year until Yeonjun slept in his bed again. This time, there wasn't even the semblance of a touch.
Why won't you hold me again? Beomgyu lied awake, staring at the ceiling that he and Yeonjun decorated with fluorescent planets. Did I do something wrong? Did I change?
He couldn't find the bravery to reach out, even though Yeonjun was so close.
They were already thirteen. They were getting older. No time for childish hugs.
Even though he so desperately wanted one then.
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What do you think so far? Comment your favorite Beomjun moment of all time. I do enjoy their teasing in ONE DREAM. Wow, doesn't that seem like so long ago?
