glass | gyuricky

twelve.

The week before winter holidays passed by blindingly quickly, as it always did; no one really took school seriously by the time the snow started falling hard enough to stick. Everyone looked forward to the winter holidays, as they always did, but as Gyuvin sat in his seat by the window, watching the snow make patterns on the brick sidewalk outside, he felt a little bit like a child who'd snuck a toy with him to school, holding it in the palm of his hand where nobody else could see, smiling for no reason other than the satisfaction of having something secret that no one else knew about. As much as it felt silly, it felt real. A faraway dream that had always been a dream, but was now so much closer to being reality.

Gyuvin took the train to Ricky's house and waited by the junction Ricky had instructed him to wait at. He recognised Ricky's car when it pulled up around the corner; how could he forget? He opened the doors and got into the passenger seat, pulling his bag onto his lap.

"Since you don't have a girlfriend, am I the only person that ever gets in your car?" Gyuvin started, teasing.

Ricky shot him a look of feigned offense. "No hello? Good afternoon? Merry Christmas?"

"If it was a good afternoon, I'd be napping and not here," Gyuvin retorted.

"Isn't this a dream? People would die to be in your place, you know?"

Gyuvin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Everyone either wants you or wants to be you."

Ricky laughed softly. "Not what I meant, but I'll take whatever compliments I can get out of you."

"Can you focus on driving? I have a deep-seated fear in me that you'll crash us into a tree."

Ricky pulled a face and turned his attention back to the road. He'd always been a smooth driver, and unfortunately by the time they pulled into the driveway at Ricky's apartment building, Gyuvin had a severe lack of anything to tease him about. Ricky led him into the lift and through the corridors. His door was on the top floor, a penthouse apartment, minimalist and nondescript from the outside as was his personality.

He opened the door without unlocking it, and Gyuvin gave him a look. "You don't lock your front door?"

"Not when I know I'm going to be back soon. Who's going to rob me, anyway?" Ricky threw back nonchalantly, and Gyuvin scoffed.

"Artists and their love for living life on the edge..."

But as soon as he stepped in, his expression changed.

"You have a stained glass window in your apartment?" Gyuvin asked, slack-jawed. The mid-morning sun filtered through the stained glass cast dappled rays onto the dark wooden floors, painting the apartment in flickers of red and blue and green and gold.

Ricky smiled, hanging his coat onto the coatrack by the door. "Of course. I made that."

"You made that?"

"It was one of the pieces from the collection I submitted for my final year in university."

Gyuvin set his bag down on the edge of the couch, still admiring the window. "One of them? What happened to the rest?"

Ricky shrugged. "School wanted to keep them. I donated the rest of the collection to them after I graduated."

"You let go of them just like that?" Gyuvin asked incredulously.

"I'll always make more," Ricky answered. "They wouldn't do any good sitting here in my gallery and accumulating dust, anyway. At least they're being put to good use somewhere."

"Maybe I'll see your work one day," Gyuvin said, sighing. "You know, if I ever make it into the University."

"Well, I can't guarantee it, but you know I'll try my hardest to make it happen for you," Ricky said, smiling conspiratorially. "Come on, studio's this way."