Beneath the Surface

Part 14

Longtai stood in front of Yok's apartment building, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He had never been here before, and he wasn't sure if he should be. The late afternoon air was cool and damp from yesterday's rain, the sky still gray with looming clouds. Longtai's hands gripped the container of porridge he had brought tightly, his heart pounding as he glanced at the doorbell. He had asked Emma for Yok's address earlier, feeling more anxious than ever. His mind raced with a flurry of questions: Would Yok be happy to see him? Or would he think it was strange that Longtai had come unannounced?

Finally, after what felt like forever, Longtai mustered the courage and pressed the doorbell. His finger trembled slightly as the chime echoed through the building. He stepped back, his breath shallow, and waited.

The door swung open, and to Longtai's surprise, it wasn't Yok who answered, but Gram. They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other in surprise. Gram, tall and broad-shouldered, looked at Longtai with a confused expression, his dark brows knitting together.

"Longtai?" Gram asked, his voice a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

Longtai blinked, his throat tightening. He hadn't expected this. "I... uh... I heard Yok was sick," he said, his voice a bit quieter than usual. "I just wanted to check on him."

Gram's expression softened, a faint smirk forming on his lips. He stepped aside, opening the door wider for Longtai to enter. "Come on in, then."

Longtai hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his eyes quickly scanning the space. The living room was cluttered but cozy. The walls were adorned with graffiti-style paintings, and various art supplies were scattered across the floor-spray cans, half-used sketchbooks, and canvases leaning against the walls. A few motorcycle parts were piled in the corner, adding to the sense that this place was lived in by people who thrived on creativity and adrenaline. The couch was draped with an old, well-worn blanket, and a small coffee table in front of it held a few empty soda cans and snacks.

"Yok's in his room," Gram said, closing the door behind Longtai. "He's been out cold most of the day. Fever hit him pretty hard." He started pulling on his jacket, glancing back at Longtai. "I'm heading out for a bit, so... you can look after him while I'm gone, yeah?"

Longtai nodded, feeling a little out of place but grateful for the opportunity to see Yok. "Yeah, I can do that."

Gram gave him a small wave before grabbing his keys and heading out. As the door clicked shut, Longtai found himself standing alone in the living room, the quiet hum of the apartment surrounding him. He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting toward the closed door of Yok's bedroom.

With slow, hesitant steps, Longtai made his way to the door, his heart thudding louder in his chest the closer he got. He opened it carefully, peeking inside.

Yok lay sprawled on his bed, his dark hair messy against the pillow, his face pale except for the slight flush of fever on his cheeks. He was breathing softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a desk lamp in the corner.

Longtai stepped inside, his movements careful and quiet as he approached Yok's bedside. He placed the container of porridge on the nightstand and knelt down beside the bed, his gaze fixed on Yok's peaceful face. For a moment, he simply stared, his mind swirling with a strange mixture of emotions.

_Longtai wasn't sure what he was feeling. There was something about Yok that unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain._

Reaching out cautiously, Longtai placed the back of his hand on Yok's forehead to check his temperature. The heat that radiated from Yok's skin worried him-he was still burning up. Longtai frowned, gently pulling the blanket up to cover Yok's shoulder where it had slipped down, exposing him to the cold air.