Unwritten Melodies

Chapter 9

As the event wound down, Ronald, Joong, and Est remained engaged in conversation, laughing and exchanging stories while Daou, somewhat quieter, sipped from his cocktail. Offroad just stood in, half-listening to their chat. Occasionally, Ronald would turn to Offroad, pulling him back into the conversation with a nudge.

Feeling the need for a moment alone, Offroad excused himself, weaving through the crowd as he made his way toward the washroom. The quiet hallway leading there was a relief. He finally had a second to gather himself. This entire evening had been a swirl of emotions he hadn't anticipated—seeing Daou again had set his thoughts spinning, stirring memories he hadn't wanted to confront tonight.

After a few moments, he pushed open the washroom door, stepped inside, and let out a long, steadying breath. He splashed some water on his hands, staring at his reflection in the mirror, as if trying to regain his composure. Just as he reached for a paper towel, he heard the door open. Turning, Offroad's pulse jumped at the sight of Daou standing in the doorway, his gaze intense, yet unreadable.

"Hey..." Offroad's voice was soft, hesitating as he tried to gauge whether starting a conversation was even the right move.

Daou simply looked at him, his gaze steady and intense, making Offroad's pulse quicken. The silence between them stretched out, almost too long, and just as Offroad considered backing out, Daou let out a quiet sigh.

"Hey, can I get your number?" Daou's voice was calm, almost casual, but the question held a weight that took Offroad off guard. He blinked, taken aback. He hadn't anticipated Daou actually asking again. 

Earlier, he'd brushed it off, thinking Daou's playful request about needing his number for detergent advice was a lighthearted joke. But now, hearing it again in this quiet, private space, it felt different.

Without meaning to, Offroad replied, "Why?" The question slipped out before he could stop it, almost instinctual, as if his mind needed a reason before his heart agreed.

Daou paused, his gaze steady, as if trying to measure the intent behind Offroad's question. Then he offered a half-smile, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "To ask for detergent advice, of course," he replied, letting out a light chuckle that dissolved some of the tension lingering between them.

Offroad found himself smiling, unable to resist the lightness Daou brought. "I see... so that's how it is, huh?" He extended his hand, gesturing for Daou's phone with a small, amused smile. Daou dug it out of his pocket, handing it over without hesitation.

Taking the phone, Offroad's eyes fell to the screen. The wallpaper was a picture of Laika, Daou's cat—the cat Offroad had once named. She looked bigger, somehow both familiar and grown-up. It was strange, comforting even, to see Laika there.

"Laika's gotten big," Offroad said, his voice soft as he took in the image. "She still looks like she owns the place."

"Of course," Daou chuckled. "She's a queen now."

Offroad's fingers tapped the screen as he saved his contact, but he couldn't help himself from glancing up. "I'm glad you kept her. She looks...happy."

Daou's gaze softened, his expression gentler. "Yeah, she is." He paused, studying Offroad's face. "You know... she'd probably remember you if you came by sometime."

The suggestion caught Offroad off guard, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly masked his reaction.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there.

"Are you... going home by yourself?" Daou finally asked, his voice soft.

Offroad blinked, bringing himself back. "Hm? Yeah, I am," he said, a small smile appearing. "I let my team head home early. They've had a pretty intense week."