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Yixing slipped his shoes off his sore feet and placed them on the shoe rack.
He looked at his apartment with a judging eye. Despite the general cleanliness of the space, he felt the need to clean.
His thoughts were clouded with "this friend." After Chanyeol left he had been dumbstruck with curiosity. The younger hadn't gave him any solid facts about "this friend" other than he was tall and he was male.
Questions upon questions plagued his mind. What was his likes and dislikes? What was his personality like? Where does he work?
The brunette sighed deeply. All these questions that lacked answers were tiresome. Yet Yixing was determined to fish out answers from that damned Yoda.
And so he finds himself an hour later, punching Chanyeol's number into his phone.
But after nine times, Chanyeol still doesn't pick up the fucking phone.
Yixing brands this mission as a fail and let's his mind take a trip to space.
--
In a little over an hour of "flying past Jupiter", he had long forgotten the so-called potential roommate. He decides to work on his compositions before taking a shower and sleeping.
Yixing took a good look at his appearance in the mirror. Should I bleach my hair? He tugs lightly at the chestnut locks and twiddled them between his fingers.
His tiredness interrupts his internal debate and he knew he would have to get working on a new choreography the next morning. He shuffled his feet towards the bed, stripping his shirt and jogging pants off his body. Yixing tucked himself in his comforter and shut his eyes, until the ringing of his phone startled him.
"Yes.....?" He slurred in sleepy Chinese; his eyes still shut tightly.
"Xing-ge~" Yoda sing-songed, "It's Chanyeol~"
He transitioned to Korean with little effort, "What is it?"
"So do you remember the roommate I was talking about?" His voice was way too ecstatic for such an ungodly hour.
"Yes, yes..," Yixing mumbled absentmindedly, consciousness slipping by the millisecond.
The baritone voice of Chanyeol dissipated into silence and only a mantra of "Yes" and "Mhm" escaped his mouth.
--
Yixing woke up early Saturday morning, at what seemed to be 5 or 6. He dragged himself out of his warm refuge, paying no mind to his unruly bed head, and stumbled toward the kitchen. His phone hung haphazardly in his hand as he swung open the cabinet doors. He looked at his selection of cereals and chose the one that would probably put him on an eternal sugar high.
The brunette switched on his phone and saw that he had been talking with Chanyeol until 3 AM.
