Enjoy ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
...
"Where are you? Taylor, why aren't you answering my calls?"
Steven let out a sigh as he put his phone down on the couch and sat there with his head down, staring at the floor.
He leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on the wall clock, which was now pointing to midnight.
He jumped when he heard the door open and saw Taylor's body. Taylor, who'd taken off his shoes, came into the room and plopped down on the couch next to Steven, putting his feet on the table. He didn't notice his friend's intense stare.
Taylor interrupted Steven as he was about to speak, picked up the remote from the table, and started flipping through channels.
"If you're wondering where I was, I was at the harbor, and if you're wondering why I didn't answer your calls, it's because I don't want to talk."
Steven fell silent, staring blankly at the young man who had only given him superficial answers, uncaring of the flood of dreadful ideas that had invaded his vast imagination as a result of his sudden disappearance.
"What were you doing in the harbor all this time?" Steven inquired with an unsatisfied expression on his face, following with his eyes his friend as he sighed wearily, rising from the couch and heading to the kitchen to respond coldly.
"I was fishing."
Steven gritted his teeth at Taylor's sarcastic reply. Taylor opened the refrigerator door, took out the milk carton, and poured the milk into a cup. He sat down on the chair and drank his milk quietly, causing Steven to lose his temper. Steven stood up from the couch and walked toward Taylor, getting in his face.
He slammed his hands down on the table so hard that the other guy flinched and looked at him, eyes wide open.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you talking to me like that? My heart dropped into my chest. I was afraid that something had happened to you while your Majesty was out on the harbor!"
They were both silent for a few seconds, staring at each other. Steven was startled when he heard glass breaking against the wall.
He opened his eyes wide as he looked at Taylor, who had stood up from his chair and put his hands on the table after leaning half toward Steven. Then he said in a low voice, raising his left eyebrow to try to irritate him.
"Are you my mom, worried about me?"
"Taylor..."
Steven spoke calmly, glancing at his friend, who had stepped away from him and shrugged. "See? You're not, so don't worry about me."
"I'm just worried about you. You didn't take your meds with you, and you're late," Steven said, still looking at Taylor's back as he walked to his bedroom. He stopped but didn't turn around.
"So, what? Were you worried I'd lose it and start attacking people? Or run around screaming like a madman?" Taylor said, slowly moving his head and looking at Steven with the corner of his eyes, a faint smile spreading across his exhausted face.
"Yeah, go ahead. I won't worry about you anymore. Asshole, go to hell!"
Steven was a bit surprised by Taylor's reaction, which was to laugh a little and wave his arm around before continuing on his way. "Yeah, I'm already living in hell; how can I go to hell?"
Steven freaked out at the loud sound of Taylor slamming the door and bit his bottom lip, chastising himself for saying that terrible sentence to him.
...
The raven-haired man smiled and leaned against the kitchen door, staring at his friend's back. His friend was engrossed in preparing breakfast, unaware of his presence. All that could be heard was the blonde-haired man's singing competing with the wren bird hanging in a golden cage above the balcony window.
Jack went over to the table and ran a towel over his wet hair, trying to dry it.
Matthew turned toward the sound Jack had made as he pulled out a chair to take a seat.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Matthew said with a big smile as he set the dishes on the table, crossing his arms to look at Jack, who opened his mouth in amazement.
"You didn't know I was a good chef, did you?"
Jack looked up at Matthew, who was staring at him silently. After a moment, Jack looked away, his gaze falling on the pink apron with the little red hearts on it.
Matthew's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at his friend, who bit his lip to keep from laughing.
His cheeks got all red when he realized what was going on, and he quickly took the apron off and threw it over the back of the chair. "I couldn't find anything else, and it's my mom's, not mine."
Matthew started attacking his plate without warning and crammed all of the food into his mouth at once. But he suddenly stopped chewing and looked at Jack, who had stopped eating his breakfast and put his spoon down on the table.
"What's up? Are you on a diet?" The blonde asked, taking a bite of bread with his teeth and looking at Jack, who had leaned back in his chair and sighed before giving Matthew a serious look.
"Matthew, I made a decision last night about my future."
...
"Good morning!" Steven said, smiling kindly, as he took the juice box from the fridge, poured the contents into his glass, and sat down to swallow it all in one go.
Taylor, on the other hand, looked at him from the corner of his eye without saying anything before taking a seat and tossing the towel carelessly over his shoulder, allowing his wet hair to fall freely and wet his thick neck.
"Dry your hair; you'll catch a cold, you idiot." Steven said in a strict tone as he put the empty glass back on the table and watched Taylor make a huge sandwich using everything he could find in the fridge.
"Don't try to have a conversation with me. So just...shut up." Taylor rolled his eyes and then started eating his sandwich quietly.
Steven didn't say anything, just looked at his friend with an annoyed face. His friend was enjoying his sandwich and looked like he was having a nice last night and was eating well. This was the complete opposite of how Steven was feeling last night because of his guilt.
"Hey, sorry about that. I didn't mean to say anything mean. I was just worried about you. Why can't you understand me?" Steven said, almost crying, which made Taylor stop eating and stare at him blankly until he replied while getting a glass and pouring some juice. "Did we fight last night? I don't really remember."
Steven's face lit up with a big smile as he got up and spread his arms wide for a hug. "I love you, man!"
But he was interrupted when he got a smack on his forehead that made his skin red. He took a step back, groaning in pain, while Taylor gave him a sharp stare, pointing his index finger at him and saying, "Don't you dare."
"Beast," Steven said, frowning, before sitting back in his chair.
"Well, you didn't tell me. How's the new job?" Steven asked, pouring more juice into his glass and sipping quietly.
"I don't work at that restaurant anymore." He replied coldly, his eyes fixed on the sandwich, which had been reduced in size.
Taylor stopped chewing his sandwich in seconds to glare furiously at Steven, who had spat the juice on his white shirt, leaving orange stains.
"What's wrong with you, Steven!"
"No, what's wrong with you? How'd you get fired on your first day?" Steven shot him a dirty look as he sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, pressed his forehead, and listened to Taylor's tirade as he tapped his forefinger against his forehead. "I didn't get fired; I quit. There's a difference."
"Well, what are you going to do?" The younger one asked.
"It's pretty clear what I'm going to do. I'm going to look for another job; it's not the end of the world." He replied after leaving the chair.
Steven bit his lower lip, silently staring at the cup he was pressing with his fingers, before addressing his friend, who was about to head out of the kitchen.
"I'm thinking of dropping out of college to work and help you pay the apartment rent. It's not fair that you have to give up your studies because of me. It's bad enough that you're paying for my college tuition."
Steven didn't say anything, just waiting for Taylor to say something. But Taylor turned around and started strolling toward him, taking big steps.
Steven, sitting in the chair, slowly lifted his eyes to his friend, who shoved his hands into the pockets of his tight pants before bowing in front of him. "Hey, we already talked about this, right? If you stop studying, I'll disown you, kid."
He grinned, then headed to his room to change his stained shirt.
...
The guy with the hazel hair let out a sigh, lowered his head, and kicked a little pebble with his foot. Then he put his hands in the pockets of his sky-blue jeans.
He watched the stone roll across the dirt and fall into the shallow lake, its surface dotted with tiny waves from the ducks and swans.
He scratched the back of his head, lifted it, looked up at the midday sky, and let out a sigh, feeling frustrated at how things weren't going well. "I wish a miracle would happen right now and bags of money would fall on my head so I don't have to work again."
He talked to himself in a loud voice before closing his eyes and pulling that dreamy smile on his lips. He then raised his arms wide, as if he were about to get the money or have his wish realized.
"Mom, can I feed the geese?" The five-year-old boy spoke so excitedly that he jumped up and down, looking at the birds with a smile that nearly reached his ears.
Taylor, who was standing nearby, turned his head and stared silently at the child, unconsciously smiling at his actions, which reminded him of someone he missed as much as flowers miss the sun when it is gone.
A few moments later, the young man was startled by the sound of a girl screaming.
"Help! Please help me! He's chasing me!"
He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at someone running towards him.
He had no idea how long it took for the girl to reach him and jump on him, throwing her arms tightly around his neck and pressing her face into his chest.
Things got even worse when her legs wound up being wrapped tightly around his body, like chewing gum, making it hard for him to move.
"Let go of me! You're choking me!" The young guy groaned in a hoarse voice, trying to break free. This only made her grip tighter, and she screamed, "I can't!" in a panicked voice.
"I'm afraid I can't. Get that dog away from me!"
He looked at a small dog that had just followed her and barked in such a way that the girl jumped in fright and screamed near his ear, causing his eardrums to perforate.
"Stop moving!"
He lost his balance, stumbled, and fell into the pond behind him, carrying the body he was clutching. She opened her eyes, but her body wouldn't move away from Taylor's. The first thing she saw was a bunch of little bubbles on the water's surface.
She jumped when Taylor's hand popped out of the water and tried to shove her off, trying to get her body off his.
"Oh my God!" She panicked and quickly stepped away from him, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him out of the water.
He let out a stifled scream before putting his hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath, which had almost been taken away from him because of her.
She bit her lower lip in embarrassment and rubbed her neck as she looked at the young man, who had narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth.
"I almost died because of you! All this drama over a little chihuahua!"
She crawled backwards, scared, as she heard his shouts echoing through the park. Her cheeks went red as she felt bad about acting so childish, and she gave a little bow to the people who helped them get up.
Taylor, on the other hand, let go of the man's hand, who had stepped to help him up, and cried in pain after falling back onto his bottom. "My waist hurts like hell; I can't move!"
She started to move toward him, but her wet clothes were weighing her down and making it hard for her to move.
"It's okay; I'll hold his right arm, and you hold his other arm." The girl spoke to the man before bending towards Taylor, but she got startled and took two steps back when he slapped her hand, preventing her from approaching or touching him.
"Don't come near me. I don't need your help. You've already helped me enough!"
"I'm sorry." The girl said quietly, rubbing the surface of her hand with a frown.
"Get on my back." The man started carrying Taylor on his back and made his way to the edge of the pond.
"Let's put him in my car and I'll take him to the hospital," the girl said, hurrying to her small gray car parked on the side of the road. The man nodded lightly, following her and helping the man with the shattered waist into the back seat as the girl opened the door for them.
She hurried to the driver's seat and slammed the door after thanking him for his help.
She let out a deep sigh as she looked at him in the rearview mirror, pushing her long, dark hair behind her ear—which had stuck to her forehead and was bothering her—and turned the key to drive away.
"Heaven, I asked for a bag of money to fall on my head, not a crazy woman."
"I have a phobia of dogs."
"Shut up! I don't care," he shouted angrily before clenching a fist and biting it to muffle the pain in his back.
...