One-Shots [Boboiboy]

I'll Take The Chance He Never Had

Continuation of the Last Chapter

Hello?

Do you know me?

Am I supposed to know you? Should I know your name?

I know my name, so should I know yours?

Are you going to wake up?

If you do, can you tell me who you are?

Somehow I feel I'm connected to you, in a sense.

Would you accept me?

Did you... make me?

Halilintar stared at the unmoving body on the bed, the only motion of movement was the rising breaths of his chest. He was asleep, as it appears. Halilintar stood at the front of the bed, his bright eyes falling onto the figure.

The room was dark, and the air conditioning was at its full blast. Despite the cold, Halilintar stood where he appeared, and he waited. Somehow it felt like it was the best thing to do, since he didn't know what was happening. Maybe the person who was sleeping can explain it to him, once he was awake.

He didn't know the time, so all he could do was assume. There weren't any windows either, so he would have to wait.

He didn't have to wait long, either. Soon the door of the room opened, and in came a figure that resembled a teenager, his eyes as gold as molten. When he saw Halilintar, his mouth hung open slightly, his posture stiff. Slowly, he walked into the room and to the sleeping man's side, gently shaking his arm.

"Petir," he called. So that was his name. Petir meant lightning. They must be one in the same, because Halilintar meant Thunderstorm, right? He should know what he was. "Petir, wake up!"

The man soon stirred, groaning as his slumber was disturbed. He raised his arm to rub his tired eyes, raising himself from the bed.

"Ugh," Petir grunted. "What time is it?"

"It's two in the afternoon," the teenager replied hastily. "Petir, look!"

"Look what?" Petir groused. Still, he lowered his arm and squinted his eyes, blowing stray strands of hair from his face.

The moment their eyes met, everything descended into hell. Like lightning, Petir shot towards the teenager and grabbed his shirt, his glare so sharp it could murder.

"Call this joke off," he growled, his face inches away from the teenager's. "I don't have the mood for these pranks, Gempa."

"It—it's not a joke!" Gempa cried, starting to panic now. "He was already here when I came in!"

"GET OUT!" Petir roared, pushing Gempa away. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM, THE BOTH OF YOU!"

With no delay, Gempa acted as quick as he could. He turned towards Halilintar and grabbed his wrist, dragging him out of the room. Halilintar was numb to all of the anger, because somehow he knew why. Somehow he could sense that it was all stemming from pain and grief, but he didn't know why Gempa would be so scared.

The door closed behind them, and Gempa leaned against the wall across them, catching his breath. He then glanced at Halilintar, who was still staring at the closed door, his gaze emotionless and his body relaxed.

Gempa knelt down and tapped his shoulder, and Halilintar turned around. Gempa didn't expect Halilintar to be so... young. Halilintar looked like he was newly seven-years-old, and his height barely reached Gempa's waist.