accismus | beomjun

11 : his. mine. after all this time.

Yeonjun has long to admit something to Beomgyu. He had moved from the states to Korea when he was a child, making home in a new house—a new house next to a kid named Choi Beomgyu.

His first impression on him was that he was, well, he was loud. Loud around his family but shy around others. That was expected.

Yeonjun had attempted to make friends with Beomgyu. Going from talking to him at the park, waving at him through the window, and helping him during class. It was all in vain. Beomgyu had walked away, averted his eyes, and hadn't even bothered to speak a word to him.

That had little Yeonjun eager to become friends with him.

It worked one day, when Yeonjun saw Beomgyu's mom pull out the driveway. He pulled up his window, smiling as he saw Beomgyu, a makeup brush in hand, messily gliding it across his cheeks. "Choi Beomgyu

!"

He spins in his seat, makeup brush falling out of his hand as he scrambles to the window. Just as he tiptoed to close his curtains, Yeonjun panics. "Wait—no! I think it's cool!"

Beomgyu stops tiptoeing, opting to pulling his window open. He sputters, rubbing his cheeks as if it would get the makeup off, "wha—cool? You think makeup is cool?"

Yeonjun beams, his smile widening. He finally talked to me! "Y—yes! My.. my mom did my makeup once and it looked nice. I think it looks nice on you, too. It's cool." And there, a grin threatens to spread across Beomgyu's face.

"I got the makeup from my sister.." He starts, a pout on his lips, "but I can't make it as nice as hers."

"That's okay! It takes practice. Ma told me that." Yeonjun says, whipping his head around to rake it over his room. He leaves the window, coming back with three nail polishes. Pink, black, and white. "Here! You can have these. They're mine, but.."

Beomgyu stares as he reaches his hand out the window. They were awfully close. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" He waves it around, steeling his hand when Beomgyu tries to grab it. One by one, he takes it out of Yeonjuns hands, staring at them all in fascination. "You can keep it on one condition."

Beomgyu stares at him in shock, "what?"

"Be my friend." He said. Yeonjun, eight year old Yeonjun, had felt so happy when Beomgyu said yes. He jumped around in his room, alarming his parents downstairs and they told him to be quiet. But all he did was smile, thanking Beomgyu.

And Beomgyu? Beomgyu cried. His first ever friend. He finally had a friend, and he was so, so happy. Happier than Yeonjun, even.

He promised himself that day. Promised to never let go of him. Yeonjun. His neighbor. A friend. His first friend. First ever friend. He would never let him go. Never.