NINETEEN | CHANGLIX

YEAR FOURTEEN [II]

Kim Woojin flourished in a house that got repainted every half a decade, windows cleaned monthly, lawn mowed weekly and flowers tended to daily.

The boy had grown up admiring dainty things, respecting fragile ornaments that caused awe in guests when they came around. He had developed a love for the pretty things; found in the beautiful melodies of the piano to the rich concoction that made gorgeous cakes; never seeing a reason to look at anything else when he could look at things so simply beautiful.

So when Woojin met Chan, he hadn't expected to develop an interest towards the boy in particular — and maybe he wouldn't have if the boy hadn't seemed to be inclined towards him first.

Chan spent most his time on the school's far too large field, practising and training for sporting events that meant he was out of class more than he was sitting in them when it came to end of term matches. His days were spent in competitions and messing around, while Woojin on the other hand, preferred the quiet department of food studies; lowly funded but filled with a passionate atmosphere.

Despite not joining the team, Woojin had developed a liking for the sports events in his own way, for it gave him a great oppurtunity to bake things from the simplest vanilla cupcakes to triple chocolate cookies in return for some recognition and even a bit of extra cash from the stall he placed at the edge of the field. Nobody minded, in fact the team had taking a liking to the boy who provided them treats to celebrate after successful matches.

It had all started in the winter term a few years back, when Chan had peeked his head through the door, dimples popping when he smiled, falling upon the sight of a content brown-haired-boy who sang softly as he sifted flour.

Chan hadn't planned to make an appearance, however the coach had cancelled practise and the male didn't see a reason to go back home straight away, so he had decided to visit the mastermind behind the addictive cookies he hadn't seemed to stop craving since the last match they played; knowing that the boy was probably tirelessly preparing for the upcoming finals too.

Woojin had blushed heavily upon realising that he had company (which Chan later learned turned out to be rare). Despite the unfamiliarity, Woojin welcomed him in enthusiastically, both boys sharing conversations with ease and testing the different recipies which spread grins spread across their faces.

When Woojin thought back to how he fell in love with Chan, he didn't think it was anything grand; in fact he barely even knew when it had occurred. The boy was so easy to talk to, never once had Woojin had a crush that he could've talked to hours on end and known they would've still had things to talk about tomorrow. It became a routine, for Chan to visit him after practicises, warmth spreading through him every time he heard the familiar creak of the door and the drop of the boy's duffel bag.

Woojin knew Chan so well, that he knew when he woke up that morning; something terrible was bound to occur.

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If there was one thing Seo Changbin hated more than his father's mindset; it was being angry.

He hated the feeling of tears on his skin; the overwheming emotion running down his face. He hated the lack of control, hated how it obstructed his thoughts so even when he did say words which had chewed at the back of his mind, he never felt the satisfaction of putting out the flames of resentment that threatened to burn him entirely.

He had walked out, careful to slow down so Felix's parents didn't question him — for some part of him still didn't want to boy to get in trouble. However he soon realised that neither did he want to go back inside or go to his own house at all. His dad was moving out and despite favouring his mother, it was torture seeing many of their once shared items placed carelessly in sale boxes and charity bags.