3:30 pm | boochan [DISCONTINUED]

fifteen.

a/n - the poem is written by Nora Abdelouafi.

***

The swing was creaking as Chan carefully sat down, his small legs coming off the ground as he gripped the chains tightly.

"Seungkwan hyung!" he exclaimed to get the older boys' attention. "Come push me!"

"Do it yourself, Channie. I'm busy," Seungkwan replied, focused on building his sand castle. "It looks cool, right?"

"Yes, it looks cool. Now please push me."

Seungkwan huffed, the exhale creating a small misty vapour cloud. "Fine..."

He walked over and gave the younger boy a push. Chan screamed, "Wait!"

It was too late. Chan was already on the ground, his hands scraping against the rough cement. Blood started to trickle down his wrist as his lips started to tremble, holding back a loud sob. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Seungkwan crouched down next to Chan and quickly pulled out some bandages from his pocket. "My mom gave me these in case of emergencies. I'm sorry, Channie. Don't cry."

"I'm not crying," Chan sniffled, clearly crying.

The bandage had a small bear on it, which oddly reminded him of Seungkwan. He started to giggle as Seungkwan softly put the bandage over Chan's cut. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Chan couldn't stay mad at Seungkwan, it was impossible. "Hyung?"

"Yeah?" he looked up. His eyes were full of guilt and his cheeks were red from the weather.

"Can you promise me something?"

Seungkwan furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"Let's always be friends."

Chan startled awake. His heart was pounding in his chest. He glanced at his phone. It was three in the morning and he broke out in a cold sweat.

It's been a while since he last had that dream.

***

The room was a mess. Textbooks and assignments and small poem entries were thrown across Chan's living room. It was quiet. The only thing that Chan could hear was the clicking of Seungkwan's pen, and it was driving him crazy. It's been ten minutes since Chan asked him a question that Seungkwan has yet to answer.

They were currently seated on the carpet of Chan's living room. Jihoon had given them a ride to the apartment before locking himself in his room, decidedly not wanting to be in the same space as both of them, which Chan wasn't very surprised about. Seungkwan was sitting across from Chan, the coffee table between them.

"Can you just tell me the theme of the poem?"

Seungkwan looked up briefly, before shrugging. "I don't know the answer."

"Then why didn't you say anything for the past," Chan glanced at the time, "twelve minutes?"

"Giving how you're the top student and how much faith Ms. Choi put in you, I thought you'd figure out that I didn't have the answer in that silent moment."

Chan gritted his teeth. "You talk too much."

"Just tell me what the fucking theme is before I storm out of this apartment," Seungkwan threw his phone gently to the side, sliding closer to Chan, but still keeping a distance.