ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕, Beomjun

024

Since Yeonjun wasted the rest of his day wondering if he made the right decision not confessing to Beomgyu, depleted because of the brain energy concerned with that thought, he doesn't go shopping like he intended until two days later. His motivation for finally getting round to it was the lack of kitchen and toilet roll, and the reminder he needs to prepare for the final colour theme.

Pink.

He'll show Beomgyu the colour pink when he returns from his trip because preparing for the day in the meantime is the perfect distraction for Yeonjun. Yes, his thoughts are still occupied with Beomgyu, but he's hoping to Pavlov himself into moving away from any yearning feelings by replacing it with the creative aspect of helping Beomgyu better understand colours.

It's foolproof.

Or he tells himself that so that he doesn't immediately give up, at least.

Yeonjun sighs, letting his hands slip from the steering wheel. His eyes dart down and his head shakes, wondering if he'd feel worse if he had confessed to Beomgyu. He thinks he would, but it's the not knowing that's tearing him apart.

Composing himself with a deep breath, Yeonjun holds it and then exhales through his mouth, repeating it three more times. With every breath inwards he pushes the negative thoughts away, hoping a small part of this pointless exercise works so that his fingers stop shaking long enough for him to take his seat belt off.

When his heart settles, no longer making its presence known in his chest. He relaxes into his seat, body sinking into the plush material of the chair. He closes his eyes and takes a moment, breath evening out. Each exhale is soft and steady, warming the cool air.

Opening his eyes again, he reaches for the button of his retainer. It clicks, the cold metal releasing with a small snap, and the seat belt zips as it unstretches, settling back against the car's interior.

Yeonjun doesn't waste a second. He steps out of the car and shuts the door behind him with a sharp slam that echoes through the quiet parking lot. Despite it being early afternoon, the lot is surprisingly full—cars scattered across the space, people drifting toward the building's entrance.

Pulling his thin jacket tighter around himself, Yeonjun hunches his shoulders against the cold. The fabric does little to ward off the lingering chill, nippy breeze ruffling the material and slipping over his skin. It had rained earlier; puddles ripple under passing footsteps, and droplets cling to every surface, glinting faintly in the light.

The top of Yeonjun's shoes coat with water, darkening the material. He focuses on it as he walks, his tucked close to his chest in an attempt to shelter his body from the breeze. It only works a little.

Before entering the building, Yeonjun grabs a shopping cart, its bottom wheel catching when he first tries to push it and the gate rattling against the rest of the metal with each vibration that rings through it.

A gush of air rushes towards him as he enters through the automatic doors, ruffling his fringe and warming his cold skin, humidity almost engulfing him. It's not exactly a nice contract, but Yeonjun would pick it over the cold that chatters his bones any day.

Around him, the beep from tills and noise of citizens fills the building, alleviating some of the loneliness Yeonjun feels. His shoulders rise and eyes become more lively and alert. He smiles at people passing him, the shadow over his anxious heart easing.

Yeonjun's eyes flick to the right, moving on auto-pilot. He scans the aisle he passes, heading straight for the one with items he needs rather than mulling down random aisles and grabbing things he doesn't.

That can come after, but for now: the essentials.

As he passes the other aisles, Yeonjun glimpses down them. The bright colours of boxes, packages, and cans decorate the shelves, fully stocked with it being the start at the week.