(love)birds of a feather

chapter sixteen

Brett's eyes flutter open to sunlight creeping through his window, into every nook and cranny of his room. The trees beyond his window dance gently in the breeze, projecting a wavering dappled effect with the warm sun rays onto the floor.

This particular morning—it feels calm, like the epilogue of a happily-ended story, a resolved trouble.

As he aimlessly fumbles for his glasses on his nightstand, he vaguely wonders why he's brimmed with this heady, weightless feeling that's leaving him bubbling with elation this early in the morning.

And then he remembers everything of yesterday. Filming the video announcing their return to YouTube, and the endearing look of pure joy in Eddy's eyes when they did so. Eddy's confession. The kiss. The soft, sweet aftermath. As though the entire day was something right out of the most beautiful love stories.

The Earth is everyone's world. Someday you'll meet someone who's your world and your world only.

At long last, Brett's come to realize, Eddy is the world he's been meant for, the world he's always had since day one—it was you, Brett had whispered then, it was always you. And the tone of the kiss had changed, deepened further, as two souls locked together through a beautiful entity called love.

God, but it still feels like a dream. And it may well have been—perhaps a vivid lucid dream?

Once he's brushed his teeth and washed up, he heads to the kitchen, presumably where Eddy is.

Eddy's seated at the table, laptop in front of him and a cup of coffee in hand.

The sunlight falls as a faint caress to his skin, giving his disheveled morning hair a honey-brown glow—and perhaps however hopelessly in love, Brett will only ever get to admire him from afar, behind a charade of "just friends" he'll always be caged within.

Brett can't help but smile. "You're up early for once, hey?"

Eddy looks over at the sound of Brett's voice. A different type of smile eclipses his brightening face, one that Brett's never seen before, an endearing, full-on smile that only Brett would ever be able to unearth from now on—he's sure of it.

"Believe it or not, this won't be the last time. Well—I hope." Eddy sets his mug down and stands up, walking over to him, his fingers already combing through Brett's hair ever so gently, tenderly, loose strands being tucked behind ears. "Good morning, sunshine."

Brett would've nonchalantly pointed out that the sun was already out, all to hide his warming cheeks, but it's right then when his hands choose to knot themselves helpless, and he can't push down the flitting shyness that rises to his surface. He averts his gaze, dropping to anywhere but Eddy's eyes. "Morning."

Through the silence, he feels the light touch of Eddy's fingers trailing down his jaw, before finding his chin, gently nudging it upwards; thus, Brett inevitably meets Eddy's gaze, beautiful brown eyes he's never in his life seen this soft, this loving before.

Eddy promptly leans in, and there's a soft, lingering press of lips against lips—a still whisper of tender love and affection, among the other little and big things in the world, all almost tangible in the morning light. They pull away, still standing there together in silence, two lovers so lost in their own sphere of warmth.

So lost in eachother that to Brett, it's for sure he's not dreaming. This is real.

Eddy's the first to break the silence, all cheeky grin and teasing eyes. "Shy, hey?"

"Oh, shut up." Brett laughs, dodging Eddy's hand as he reaches over to pinch his cheek, however letting him touch a small kiss to his cheek in lieu.