It was cold, sleepless night. Kibum stared non-cahalantly, at nothing particular. Another strike, huh? He thought, let out a single blow escaped his lungs. He was used to it—he tried God-knows-how-many-times with several methods—hot milk, pills or even hypnotic, but it just never worked. He’d wake up on the next morning with black hole below his cheshire eyes, pale and fragile and weak.
It was totally sucks.
It’s not something new, he said to himself. Now he got to do something, at least to help him spending times. To wasted some times. So he climbed down from his bed, careful enough to not woke the others up. Following his natural umma sense; Kibum also made sure everything was under control—everyone was asleep. Next thing he knew, he couldn’t find Jonghyun on his usual place.
Kibum rubbed his eyes, sighed. That brat.
He stepped out and soon he felt chilly air toying him; unsteady, even, unsteady, even. He tilted his head, deciding he did not need any scarf or jacket at all, he was inside and it was more than enough to embrace him with warmth.
But Kibum couldn’t stand to figure out where this cool breeze did come from. He remembered locking the doors and windows—
—he saw Jonghyun.
Yeah, Kibum rolled his eyes, who else.
“It’s weird,” said Kibum, paused his steps when he reached Jonghyun, “you never told me you’re having insomnia too.”
“I’m not. It’s kind of rare case.” Jonghyun chuckled, “perhaps God wants me to stay awake so you can find me here.”
Cheesy as always. Kibum snorted hearing an unexpected state from him. “Excuse me? You aren’t lost or something. Wait, don’t tell me—are you drunk?” he shrieked in horror.
“There’s no way in hell I’d go drunk. If Sooman-sunbaenim ever find out, he’ll kick my ass for sure.” Jonghyun shot back.
The two remained silent, sinking into their deepest thoughts. Kibum sneaked a glance to the blonde, wondering what was wrong with him. Not to mention he cared or something; it was just—awkward. Jonghyun is always a talkative one, mood-swasher in the group. Kibum might be blatant in speaking, but sometimes the raven is an expert secret-keeper, best at pretending; while this man, namely Kim Jonghyun appreciates honesty more than anything. His passions, feelings and all that are reflected through his eyes, voice, pitch and gesture. He is just as subtle as neon sign. He can’t practically lie.
Truthfully, Kibum hated Jonghyun for some reasons. For being so goddamn lucky all the time, for being honest in every single way, for acting touch and put all the girls into shame when it comes to sensitivity.
He didn’t even know why they became friends on the first place.
Perhaps it wasn’t too hard for Kibum to keep pretending—that he envied Jonghyun so bad, lying over anything.
Lied about his feelings.
The blonde yawned. “Gonna back to sleep, I guess. See if Onew-hyung has already claimed my territory.”
Kibum blinked when Jonghyun grabbed his hand along as he left. He stood still, gave the blonde questioning look.
“What?” Jonghyun giggled, tickling their fingers. He grinned sheepishly. “Did I do something wrong?”
Childish as always.
“Smirk again and I’ll punch you. Right on the face.” Kibum smirked back.
He still hated Jonghyun no matter what (you never knew this fact, indeed—Kibum is a master at pretending, after all), he hated the way he grinned and how tight he held his hand.
But at least tonight he found out; once, having insomnia wasn’t that bad.
