Chapter 8

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Myungsuk padded across the apartment, squinting as the morning light streamed in through the enormous windows. Saturday mornings were the best. No classes and no work.

He knocked on Daehyun's office door, two volumes of Galactica in his hands and headphones around his neck.

"Come in," Daehyun called out and Myungsuk stepped in.

He walked straight over to the couch and flopped on. Soft enough to be comfy but not too soft where he'd sink in. It was just right. He crossed his legs with one volume in his lap and slid on his headphones, taking a deep breath in time with the steady lo-fi beats.

Flicking his eyes up, Daehyun continued staring at his screen, squinting at it behind his glasses. Myungsuk wiggled his toes and lifted his book, flipping to the first chapter and getting absorbed into the story. Neither one itched to fill the silence. Doing things separately but together was a pleasure only they understood.

Myungsuk knew an hour had passed because Daehyun got up and left the room. He paid no mind, continuing to read the part where Sukki meets Viham for the first time at the training camp.

As he read the montage of them in training, sharing meals and instant messaging late into the night, Myungsuk's eyes glazed over. He glanced over at his phone.

He hadn't messaged Insoo yet. Last night was filled staring at an empty text box, every message felt stilted or weird or awkward. He wanted to do this on his own, but that proved to be an impossible task.

Daehyun returned and placed a mug of strawberry tea on the coffee table in front of him, going back to his desk when he met Myungsuk's intense stare.

"Is everything okay?" he asked over the rim of his coffee mug.

Myungsuk pushed his headphones off and closed the book, drumming the cover. "Um, can I ask you something, Hyung?"

Daehyun's expression softened. "You can ask me anything," he said, walking over to sit next to him. "What is it?"

Myungsuk shifted to face him, fiddling with his phone. "Can you help me text someone?"

Daehyun's eyebrow raised, but he didn't show his surprise in any other way. Myungsuk always left his correspondence to his parents or Taeyong.

"Sure," he said and propped his elbow on the back of the couch. "Is it this Cheung Insoo?"

Myungsuk's eyes widened. "How—" He cut himself off. Taeyong. "Yes, it's Insoo," he said and held out the empty text screen to him. "How do I start?"

Daehyun took off his glasses as he glanced at the phone. "You should start by telling him it's you. He doesn't have your number, correct?"

Myungsuk nodded. He stared at his phone, his thumbs frozen over his keyboard.

"Just type. 'Hi, this is Myungsuk. From cafe Dalnim.'"

Typing word for word, Myungsuk sucked in his breath as he clicked send, staring up at Daehyun.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Daehyun said and ruffled Myungsuk's hair.

Nodding, Myungsuk pressed into his hand, casting his eyes down. "Thank you, Hyung," he muttered. He nibbled his bottom lip and flipped his phone over in his hands. Now, he just had to wait.

"You're still anxious." Daehyun guided Myungsuk closer and nuzzled the top of his head, Myungsuk closing his eyes as he took in his comforting scent. "You can talk to me. You know I won't tell anyone."

"I know," Myungsuk said and sat up. He stared at the phone in his hands and shrugged. "I just want Insoo to like me."

Daehyun hummed, leaning back with a slow nod. "I understand."

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