𝔽𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 ℍ𝕚𝕣𝕖, Beomjun

027

The biggest bouquet available to buy is currently slotted between the pit of Yeonjun's elbow and his side as he struggles to lock the door. His keys slip out of his hold and clatter onto the floor and he sighs heavily before bending down to retrieve them. He almost doesn't want to stand back up straight he's so exhausted from the day he's had. All he wants to do is set things straight with Beomgyu and then pass out on his bed.

This time when he stands up and slots his key into the keyhole. It isn't a hassle and he locks it with ease. He slips off his sweaty shoes and nudges them towards the shoe rack, not bothering to place them in it properly, but he sees no problem with them being tucked next to it.

The house is quiet, which is rarely unusual since only Beomgyu occupies it when he's not home with him, but after the argument they've had it stirs up panic within him.

He grabs the flowers into a firm hold and paces towards the living room first because it's only down the hall and Beomgyu's normally in there. It's pitch black and empty, eerily abandoned with none of the tell-tale signs that Beomgyu's been in there despite the fact he was when Yeonjun left.

Yeonjun's miserable bowl of cereal is even where he left it on the table and while Beomgyu isn't one to fuss about mess, he also doesn't leave anything left behind when he tidies up before heading to bed.

Yeonjun's eyebrows screw and his natural pouty lips twist into a frown.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun yells into the dark apartment as he makes his way to the second floor, footsteps loud with every step he takes on the laminated flooring.

Yeonjun skips the bathroom and his own room and heads to Beomgyu's room, switching the light on as soon as he pushes the oak door open.

The brightness obscures his vision until he blinks through it, squinting his eyes into the empty room.

Again, his brows crease because Beomgyu's nowhere to be seen and his room's messier than the living room is. His duvet is messy like he's been fighting with it, and the pillow he threw at Yeonjun yesterday has been scooted off to the side. Clearly, it'd been in his way when he got up this morning and he didn't have it in him to pick it up. His curtains are closed too and Yeonjun knows Beomgyu hates them being closed on a morning. He'd scolded Yeonjun once for leaving them shut during the daytime, apparently there's some unspoken rule to open them during the day.

"Beomgyu?" Yeonjun mutters in confusion, bottom lip pushed out and brows furrowed. So far his concern hasn't been appeased.

A million thoughts cross his mind. What if it has something to do with their argument or a crazed fan somehow got in? Yeonjun has no idea what extent people will go to to get to someone like Beomgyu.

He rushes out of Beomgyu's room without shutting the door and makes his way to his room so he can gather a few things before he goes looking for Beomgyu. He needs to charge his phone too because it's died from the hassle of contacting everyone today, and it'd be smart to call Beomgyu and see if he picks up before doing anything irrational like phoning the police-or possibly worse, his parents.

Yeonjun barges into his room and flips on the light, his pounding heart almost instantly calming as he sighs in relief.

Beomgyu twists his head to the side, fighting against the harsh light that disturbs his closed, sleeping eyes. His brows are furrowed, lips curled down into a frown with curved lines near the corners of his lips and bothered lines on his forehead. In his arms is his fox teddy, tightly pressed against his body. The duvet does not cover him, he's lying on top of it with his body curled into a ball.

"Beomgyu." Yeonjun drops the flowers he forgot he was holding and rushes over to the bed where Beomgyu is slowly peeling open his eyes. The relief he's experiencing is close to overwhelming, he cards a hand through his hair and wastes no time taking a seat in the little space at the end of the bed. (It'd be an inconvenience to them both to crawl over Beomgyu to get on the free side now that he's made his way around this side of the bed without thinking.)