restless || wonhao

restless

Minghao has been staring at his ceiling for the past few hours.

At times like these, he would stare at his neat wine bottle display and drift to sleep, but he had been doing that since hour one.

Maybe it was the clock in the living room ticking loudly. Maybe it was the strange shadows his various canvases casted around his room.

Or maybe it was his neighbor's bedroom light that was harshly filtering in through his thin curtain.

Minghao wasn't one to get angry. He preferred minding his own business; but his neighbor has had their light on late at night for the past month. He thought about complaining to his landlord, but what would he say? He'd rather handle this on his own.

With that in mind, he sat up abruptly and pulled back his curtain, with every intention to kindly ask his neighbor to shut their light off or close their curtains; but he swallowed harshly once he saw the sight in front of him.

Said neighbor was, in fact, a man, a beautiful man at that. He didn't know who they were. He was pretty sure that his cranky neighbor, Ms. Liu lived there (all she did was complain about "the youth" and Minghao was "the youth" so you could imagine they never got along well).

Said man was sitting at his windowsill, a heavy book in hand, and round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was biting his lip in concentration, seemingly trying to conceal a chuckle.

Maybe Minghao audibly gasped, but no one needed to know that.

Out of instinct, Minghao hopped out of his bed in search of his camera. Pretty things must be photographed, right?

Once Minghao scrambled around his dark room for his camera, he hopped back onto his bed in slight excitement. By the time he pulled back his curtain, his neighbor had turned off his light and closed his window.

Minghao sighed in disdain, muttering to himself how he had to be the unluckiest person in the world. He stomps over to his cabinet and places his camera softly inside, his footsteps becoming heavier as he walks back to his bed.

Minghao fell asleep quickly after that, images of the pretty boy running around in his head.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

It was a few days later when Minghao saw him again, but he wasn't alone this time. There was a boy with blonde hair, possibly younger than them, lounging around on his bed.

The blonde boy was singing loudly, and his neighbor was staring at him fondly.

"... My singing is great, right, hyung?" The blonde boy asked, acting nonchalant, but you could tell by his gaze that he valued what his friend thought of him.

"Sure, if I were deaf." His neighbor said with a serious expression, a short laugh escaping once he saw the blonde boy's expression.

Minghao watched their interaction from his window, like a weirdo. A small part in him was yelling at him not to invade their privacy, but an even bigger part was in awe at how deep his neighbors' voice was.

This time, Minghao made sure to keep his camera in closer reach. He picked it up gingerly and stared through the lens, debating if he should take pictures or not. Just when he was about to put his camera away, something from his neighbor's room caught his eye.

His neighbor's friend was staring right at him.

Minghao quickly closed his curtain and laid down on his bed, his chest heaving in anxiety. He wondered if his neighbors' friend had actually spotted him or if he was just seeing things.