"Zen, you so look handsome today!" Seven gushed, reaching for Zen's hand.
They were sitting across from each other in a 50's themed diner, sharing a strawberry milkshake. The milkshake foamed at the top, threatening to drop the two cherries carefully placed on the sides of the glass. Zen observed the minty green walls, the wallpaper cracked at the ceiling and trim. The checkered tile floor squeaked as waiters passed the table, the tiles moving under the polished black shoes. Zen then turned to face the redhead across from him, whom he had avoided his gaze for a while. Seven wore his familiar yellow and black rimmed glasses, and they showed a smudged reflection of Zen in them. Looking through the lenses, Zen met Seven's amber eyes, and for an unknown reason felt awfully intrigued by them. Seven's eyes welcomed Zen, begging him to draw nearer to his redhead friend. Zen's heart thumped, skipping beats. Seven separated his lips to lick them, and slowly moved his head closer to Zen's. Zen sat across from him, entranced by the other's movements. Before, this only happened to him when he talked to pretty girls; and now he was looking at his friend, Seven, the way he had looked at his girlfriends. Zen's vision started to fail him, turning the diner, and Seven to a complete darkness.
Sweat ran down Zen's body, gliding across his sculpted features. It glistened in the darkness, and dropped to his sheets slowly. He opened his red eyes suddenly, and stared at the ceiling.
"It was a dream?" he thought, confused by his awakening. Zen recalled other times he had woken up in a cold sweat. Usually, they entailed a prophetic vision; this dream he was not so sure about.
"Why did Seven look at me like that?" He thought to himself, sitting up in the midst of his wrinkled sheets. He placed his hands on his cheeks, as if he were checking for a temperature. Wondering if he had the dream out of sickness or woken up from a fever. Alas, his cheeks were as cold as the autumn breeze seeping through the window. Zen searched for possible answers to why Seven would take him out and share a shake with him, or why he would act that way towards him. After skimming through possible answers for at least five minutes, he felt his mind wander into a dreamy land. He slowly closed his eyes again, laying his head back onto the cushion. He dreamt again, this time of a cloudy landscape.
Zen opened his eyes to study the soft features of the clouds, fluffy and inviting, they seemed to beckon him to come near.
The clouds called, swaying back and forth. He began to walk lightly on the condensed mist, gaining speed with each step. He ran towards the clouds calling his name, only to meet again with Seven, who sat casually on the pink ground. Seven sat with his knees to his chest, chin resting in between the peaks of his knees.
Zen took a deep breath. His heart thudded in his chest at the sight of his friend. "Why do I feel like this?" He pondered, looking at the melancholy boy sitting on the floor. Seven turned to face Zen, looking up at him with a loving stare. "Why do I keep seeing Seven?" Zen asked himself, admiring Seven's curly red hair.
"You can touch my hair, Zen." Seven stated out of the blue, snapping Zen from his world of thought.
Zen's eyes widened, and he crouched down to Seven's level. He sat beside Seven, hesitant to place his hand in the other's hair. Zen's hand shook as he plopped his hand into the comfort of Seven's hair. He began to comb his fingers through the ginger's hair, loosening the tangles. Zen felt his face warm up each time Seven turned to face him, as he began to fall in love with his friends' pillowy lips and welcoming warm eyes.
"Seven?" Zen said, meeting the other's eyes, then flickering his own to the side.
"Yeah Zen?" Seven replied, seemingly unbothered by the awkwardness of his friend.
Zen's voice became higher with each word, as he asked: "Can I kiss you?" He clenched his teeth in fear of Seven's response to such a bold question. Zen would've never asked such a question to someone he wasn't dating. He couldn't help himself, he was entranced by the upturned smirk of his hacker friend.
Zen's face flushed, scanning for a response, and Seven's eyes widened.
Seven's eyes moved away from Zen's curious gaze. His normal snarky expression melted into one of a flustered teen, as he had not had romantic relations for years.
"Sure, if you want to I mean, uh go ahead," Seven replied with a stutter after what seemed like a lifetime. Seven fluttered his eyelashes then closed his eyes completely, beginning to lean towards the actor.
Zen's heart pounded, imitating a drum on a steady beat. He closed his eyes and leaned in to meet his friends' lips, only to be greeted by thin air.
Zen opened his eyes, to find himself yet again in his own bed. He let out a sigh and relaxed his lips, which were still puckered for a kiss. A bright light blinded him, it was Seven, holding a flashlight to his face.
