ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕, Beomjun

007

Beomgyu rants about what's bothering him while they walk to the bus stop to check the time the next bus arrives.

He does because his inner conflict isn't anything new, Yeonjun is aware of the misery caused by his achromatopsia. He's a little guilty over the fact it still upsets him when Yeonjun's doing all these things in order to make him feel better about it, but that's another reason he rushes his problems out, so he can tell Yeonjun it's fine and focus on whatever Yeonjun's dealing with for once.

He finishes explaning by the time the two reach the bus stop, both hugging their own bodies and shivering under the rain's relentless attack.

They should've wrapped up warmer, or planned ahead and prepared for the possibility of bad weather. Beomgyu's wearing a thin shirt and dungarees and Yeonjun's wearing a thin sweater and jeans, which aren't exactly appropriate for the storm.

The two huddle under the the shelter at the bus stop. Water drips from their hair that's clumped together instead of their usual fluffy and soft, clinging around their ears and foreheads, giving them the appearance of a wet dog.

Yeonjun steps closer to the display that presents the different buses schedules and wipes away the rain drops that've managed to sneak their way through. The water blurs across the board, but enough transfers to the side of Yeonjun's hand for him to make out the next stop. He turns to Beomgyu who's already staring at him, teeth chattering and eyes full of hope.

"Forty minutes." Yeonjun gives him a thin-lipped smile, which isn't really much of a smile at all, it's full of disappointed and a little fed-up. Tired and cold. "We could always go get that food we planned on while we wait?.. I think I saw a convenience store near by."

Beomgyu nods. Objecting would be stupid when offered somewhere warm with food and comfort over staying somewhere cold and miserable where his clothes stick to him uncomfortably the entire time-because that's one of his main concerns, his clothes sticking to his body.

Yeonjun nods back at him and leads the way, shoving his wet hands into his wet pockets and listening to the squelch of his equally wet shoes.

"Grey's a pretty colour too, y'know..." Yeonjun comments as the two walk, bringing up the earlier topic of Beomgyu's despair. He spares the younger a glance as they walk down the pathway and Beomgyu stares back at him until his attention is stolen by a streetlamp flickering on. Unlike the rest strewn down the path, that had been the only one refusing to turn on. Now, like Yeonjun said earlier, it lights up their dull path. As if he'd predicted it.

"But I can't imagine it being as pretty as the colours you tell me about." Beomgyu inhales, chest inflating, and then deflating as he sighs.

"That's because you haven't given me the chance to tell you about grey." Yeonjun raises a brow, shooting Beomgyu a knowing glance as the corner of his lip tilts up into a smirk.

Beomgyu furrows his eyebrows curiously. "What is there to tell me about grey? I can see it."

Yeonjun chuckles at Beomgyu's bluntness, noting the way Beomgyu's lips are pursed doubtfully. "Because I can see a range of colours, I can identify what things are truly grey, and which things appear it to you."

Beomgyu hums in thought, ignoring the recurring jealous that scratches at his throat at the mention of the thing he's deprived of.

Yeonjun hadn't meant for it to come off that way, so he does his best not to let it bother him more than it already has, opening up his mind to the idea that maybe it does grant Yeonjun some hidden knowledge behind the one colour he can see.

"Fine." Beomgyu nods, this time affirmatively.

"I'll entertain the idea that you could teach me about grey." He body checks Yeonjun, that same doubt from earlier not fully leaving his face, shown by the cocky raise of his eyebrows, betting Yeonjun can't. "What's so special about it?"