✔ ENCEPHALON 𝟸: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔.𝟏𝟓

Yeonjun stood next to the small kitchen island and pointed at the two plates that had not been cleared away, smirked amusedly in Sejung's direction and asked, "Do you have a roommate?"

After all, it wasn't his ex-boyfriend's style, who was always so concerned with aesthetics and wealth that he forgot to wash the dishes after dinner, or at least put them in the dishwasher. Not to mention living in an apartment like this.

With a quick movement, Sejung collected the two plates, turned his back to his visitor, and cursed softly. What he was thinking was unknown, and he put the dishes in the sink. "No, I was just in a hurry and figured I wouldn't bring a visitor here today," he lied and stood by the refrigerator to take out something to drink. He grabbed two glasses and filled them, "I'm not here that often."

The corners of Yeonjun's mouth twitched, for he had heard the soft cursing very well.

As well as other muffled noises, to which he became aware, but deliberately said nothing about it.

"Don't worry about it," the black-haired man said only with a smile, resting his forearms on the now-cleared counter. "I don't mind," Yeonjun added quietly, trying to calm Sejung down a bit while listening to those sounds. However, not wanting his ex-boyfriend to take notice as well, he sent after it as a question, "Why aren't you here often?"

"Because of work." Sejung pushed one of the glasses toward Yeonjun and took a sip of his. "I have a lot to do, so I'm at the office more than I'm here. But it's nice to have an apartment nearby." A smile crept onto his lips, even as his eyes scrutinized the handsome young man. "Don't you feel like you just want to get away sometimes? Not to be cooped up in your own four walls, but to be free. Around the world on a motorcycle, or something like that."

Of course he mentioned the motorcycle because he knew Yeonjun liked it.

But in response, the latter only grimaced.

"I had an accident with one of our motorcycles the other day," Yeonjun told him, shrugging his shoulders. With his eyes lowered, he stared at his hands. "Why, yes, of course. Only I think we are all prisoners ...- prisoners in our bodies."

Sejung gave a small laugh and leaned against the refrigerator. He ignored the narrative about the accident as if he knew about it. Had he heard it from Yeonjun's mother? "Pretty profound," he grinned, looking at Yeonjun impenetrably. It seemed like he was trying to read the latter's mind. "What makes you think that?"

"Maybe because it's just the way it is. We are prisoners of society and life or our instincts." Defensively, Yeonjun shrugged his shoulders and straightened up again to stroll around the living room. As he did so, he walked around the couch and spotted a chip bag on the floor. Without comment, the black-haired man picked it up and placed it on the coffee table. "Where do you get such thoughts?" asked Yeonjun as a counter question and sat down on the couch.

Sejung watched his ex-boyfriend's actions step by step and finally followed him. His teeth gritted briefly and he glanced around every corner of the room, on the lookout for further messes. "I remember you used to rave about traveling on motorcycles. And I think we're only prisoners if we let ourselves get caught."