Song of the Heart (Khun x Bam) On Hiatus

Indulgence

The pungent sizzling of oil scented with spices of various types hung around the air of the room. Although sick, lunch was nearing and therefore, their stomach would grumble and complain and nobody would be pleased.

After the unintentional revelation of facts, the older of the two somewhat shrinked his persona of a domineering mastermind to a mere silent chef, donning over a gray apron.

He was sick yet he was compelled to work in the kitchen that he found some sort of comfort in. "Bam, have you finished slicing the oni-"

Instead of a reply, Khun was greeted with a heap of sobs from the brown haired man. Bam was dressed in his usual black shirt that reached his knees.

"M-Mr. Khun... My eyes hurt. " Sobs and sniffs following as fat drops of water rolled down his cheeks. He tried bringing his hands to wipe the sting off but was stopped by his companion.

"Ah, don't do that, it'll make it worse." Khun took the brunette'a hands in his, meekly trotting over to the sink to wash up.

"Wash your face too." He handed the latter a towel.

While his guest was handling himself, Khun walked over to Bam's work, giving it a once over before merely sighing as he coughed, willing his tired hand to finish slicing the tear-inducing bulb of flavourful purple.

"Mr. Khun." He felt a tap from behind. It lasted less than a second but left a mark of something unexplainable for our sick student.

"What is it Bam?" Khun stopped, glancing towards his back to meet remorseful ambers.

"Can I slice... it?" Little sniffs and his eyes were still teary.

"Bam. You're still crying and your slicing technique..." He dragged as he witnessed the man's face before him dropped several degrees down.

Is terrible, is what he would've said but he didn't want another episode of unnecessary weeping. "...is okay, but are you sure?"

"Yes. I want to help Mr. Khun." Khun faced him, chewing on his lip as he weighed his options. He would prefer his onions and other ingredients to be cut and sliced with wonderful precision.

Volume pristine and fresh, high in the index of perfection and not the mess that he was admittedly faced by having Bam slice his onions.

He let it slide since he was no inconsiderate nimrod who wouldn't feel an ounce of sympathy for the boy-man, but calling him that was sorta endearing so he decidedly will stick to it.

"Okay." An exhale of breath. He eyed his clothing, a part of it darker than the rest. "Bam, wear this. Do you know how to tie this on?"

Bam shook his head. "Turn around and let me place it on you. Watch me okay?" He took it off his person and strapped it to the boy.

A nod. It was a sign that he was in light spirits, the downturned aura he felt seemingly dropped. His hands in front to grasp on the ribbon-like strap. It snaked slowly as it made contact with the black cloth before reaching it.

He could smell the alluring explosions of sweet odorous flowers that floated around hazel strands of hair. The student recalled the feeling of running his slender fingers on it, velvety and pleasing.

After an incidental whiff of the white essence of vanilla from an ice cream parlor, it went well with lavender that was radiating from Bam's hair. Aromatic and calming, just like his voice.

"Bam, I'll teach you how to slice the onions, is that okay?" His kneels felt weaker than usual as his nose was stuffed with the heavenly fragrance.