Lackluster

Chapter IV

It happened two months ago, when Win walked inside their apartment and saw Type curled up in pain on the floor, crying out. He called an ambulance right away and took his brother to the hospital. That was the first time that he'd seen Type cry out like that in pain. He sounded so scared and in distress.

The following events after they arrived at the hospital was all blurred in his mind. There was so much back and forth and no one would tell him anything. Type in the end, had to undergo an emergency brain surgery—it was brain aneurysm.

The aneurysm had leaked and caused Type a massive headache, and they had to operate immediately before the aneurysm could rupture completely and do more damage. Win refused to think about how the entire process left them bankrupt. His only concern was the safety of his brother. The doctor said that if he had been a little late, Type would've died and Win wasn't confident if he could handle losing his brother. Win was at the very least, glad that Type had been brought to the hospital just in time.

A few days after the surgery, Type fell into coma.

The doctor said that his brother's body and brain needed to recover and it saw fit to induce coma. They told him that his brother would wake up soon. However, it has been two months since then, and Type hasn't moved a muscle. It broke his heart—thinking of how uncertain their future was. This was one of the reasons why he started working 9-10 hour shifts at the café and quit university, he wanted to afford the hospital for the next few months, just until Type wakes up. Granted he also needed money for the speech and physio-therapy of his brother after he wakes up, still Win is hopeful; the two of them can find a way through this.

Type just needed to wake up, and everything would be a little lighter and easier in Win's mind.

The following day, Win had taken the extra measure to sit at the very back of the class at the corner, against the wall, where no one (read: a certain someone), wouldn't be able to kick his seat again and annoy him. He settled down and brought out his notebook—one that his brother owned, and a pen. He wasn't able to take notes yesterday and it would be a waste if he doesn't take notes now. He had been pretty confident that his class today would go smoothly, already planning his escape once the bell rings just in case someone (read: Bright) would try and annoy him again.

Win had been so certain, until someone sat in the empty seat next to him. He hadn't bothered to look up and see who it is because the professor had already started, and he figured that he doesn't need to make conversation.

"You have a neat hand-writing for someone who haphazardly wrote my name on a cup without an "I"." 

The voice that whispered near his ear nearly made him leap out of his seat had it not been for the wall beside him that prevented him to.

He quickly recognized the voice belonging to the person that he's been careful of avoiding this day—Bright. The man had been the one that sat on the only seat beside him. He couldn't believe it. Maybe he was cursed.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He hastily faced front once again when he realized that he stared a little too long at Bright's irritatingly disarming smirk.

"Shut up, and listen to the lesson. Please refrain from disturbing me any further." Win cursed silently. His voice didn't sound as firm as he needed it to be, and he could feel the other's smirk widen from the side.

Bright didn't reply after that, and Win was grateful for it.

For some time, he tried his best to take down notes and was actually getting too into the lecture when Bright spoke up again.

"Hey. Do you have a pen that I could borrow?" Win didn't bother answering and just kept taking down notes. He figured Bright would find someone else to ask for a pen anyway.

A nudge to his side proved him mistaken.

"Hey? A pen? Do you have a pen? Can I borrow it?" He didn't understand why Bright couldn't just annoy any other student except for Win. It would definitely be easier if he just asked the pretty girl beside him.

Another nudge brought Win out of his stupor, and he threw the other a scathing look.

"Go ask another person." He hadn't intended to sound rude but the statement came off too strong, and he felt bad that instant. Win thought that had been the end of that. He was sorely mistaken again.

The pen he was holding onto was suddenly snatched from his grip, and the next thing he knew—Bright was using it to write his own damn notes. He prayed that whoever is up there give him strength not to murder someone today.

"Asshole! What do you think you're doing?" He hissed quietly, making sure not to draw attention to himself.

"Taking what I want." Bright answered.

What was he supposed to reply to that? Not only is this man an asshole, he's also a brat! Win couldn't believe his fortune. Maybe someone did curse him. He's cursed to meet this man-child.

Win just bore holes on the side of Bright's face, still dumbfounded. While he stared shamelessly at Bright's face, he couldn't help but notice the scars that littered the man's face. One on his eyebrow, one on his forehead, and another near his lips—these should make the other less attractive, at least by a fraction—however, it just managed to add to it, making Bright's appearance rugged and masculine. It was a bit unfair.

Bright was definitely attractive. Win shouldn't find Bright attractive. He's a man.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer."

"I don't even like your face, why would I take a picture of it?" Win shouldn't be thinking about how attractive a stranger is, especially a man.

Bright stopped whatever bullshit he was writing on his paper, and instead fixed Win a cynical look. He raised one perfectly arched brow at Win and tilted his head.

"Then why are you staring? Admit it. You like me." It's amazing how fast Win's sudden and unexpected thoughts of attraction to Bright diminished the more he opened his mouth.

"I just want to take what is mine, that's what. Leave me alone." Hastily he grabbed his pen back and faced sideways to the wall. That way, Bright wouldn't be able to see his face nor disturb his focus.

In his haste, he failed to see the look of amusement on the other's face, nor the small but present look of fondness the other threw his way. 

Bright couldn't help it— this person somehow felt familiar. He just couldn't put a finger on where he had known the cafe worker before. Though first, Bright should probably try to know his name first before anything else.

(A/N:

  I would just like to ask if my chapters are too long? Idk if I should shorten them or not. Please let me know in the comments)