However, the truth is they had been holding each other since last night when they collapsed onto that bed. They ended up sleeping in the same bed because they were both tired from walking from Graffiti.
Tret was slowly feeling uncomfortable, not because he felt it was inappropriate, but because he didn't want Heo to feel the strong thumping of his heart, audible enough for even ears to hear. But how? Heo's tight embrace enveloped him.
Heo gently squeezed Tret against his massive chest, then asked, "Hey Tret, what would you like for breakfast today?"
Feeling the love in the air, Tret smiled and replied, "Hmm, how about a fluffy stack of pancakes with a side of crispy bacon? And maybe a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice?"
Heo's eyes sparkled at the thought of preparing Tret's favorite breakfast. "Sounds perfect! I'll make sure to whip up the most amazing pancakes with just the right amount of golden brown goodness. And those crispy bacon strips will be the best you've ever tasted!"
Tret chuckled. Heo asked him why. "Of course, that's your story. You're good at that."
"Well," Heo murmured while tousling Tret's hair. "Considering it's customary for me to be the one cooking for you, I am a culinary maestro. Can you truly doubt my abilities, huh?" Heo feigned disappointment.
"Is that so, Heo?" Tret teased, unable to contain a mischievous grin.
Heo released Tret from his embrace. "Okay, from now on, you'll cook, Tret." Heo got to his feet and stretched his arms. "I have never seen you cooking anything." He paused, then grinned as if remembering something. "Ah, I recall that moment vividly, the day when I wasn't present, and you were famished, so you attempted to cook noodles. However, it turned out to be overly brothy. If only you had finished it entirely, I wouldn't have known that you actually struggle to manage on your own." Heo concluded with a resounding laugh.
"I'd rather eat outside than cook, Heo." Tret also got up and sat down. He leaned against the headboard of the bed.
"So, what happened yesterday? What got into you that led to Graffiti? Heo, are you into someone causing you problems, which is why you got drunk?"
Heo shook his head. He looked into Tret's eyes. Those eyes were seeking an answer. However, Heo wasn't ready to share his burden yet. It wasn't the right time. Fate would reveal it in due time. "It was supposed to be chill, but it ended up with excessive drinking. Why did you go there searching for me? For Pete's sake, beating glasses of beer and ending up defeated."
He got up and opened the window before answering Heo. "Wren texted. If it wasn't for Wren, I would have no idea where you were. I sent you messages, but you didn't reply to any of them. I never thought that you only saw my messages." He smirked before continuing. "Han, by the way, is currently in Gensan."
Heo gave a long profound sigh. He chose not to answer Tret. Yes, he did see Tret's message. He was aware that Tret was worrying about him. But he couldn't message anyone yesterday due to the shock he got from the results. But he needed to accept it. He needed to be strong for himself, for his family, friends, and for Tret. He didn't want to show weakness. "I am sorry for that," he said.
Tret walked to his own bed, opened his closet, and changed into a T-shirt. Since Heo vomited on his T-shirt last night, when they arrived at the apartment, he took off his T-shirt and slept straight beside Heo.
Heo hemmed and cleared his throat. "Tret..." He didn't know how to express his thoughts. He sighed. "Tret, about last night. I am so sorry."
Tret gazed piercingly at Heo, his eyes glimmering with profound emotion. "Certain matters are best left untouched, never to be disturbed. Moments from the past must remain confined to their designated space, never to encroach upon the present. Occasionally, it is wiser to withhold certain thoughts, allowing them to reside in the sanctum of silence. In times of anguish, one must conceal their wounds, masquerading as if they were non-existent, and in the throes of suffering, one must don the façade of absolute tranquility." A bitter smile graced Tret's lips, concealing the pain that lingered beneath the surface.
Heo shook his head and perched on the edge of his bed, contemplating the profundity of their conversation. "You're right. However, it is important to address matters that need attention instead of letting them fester and create regret later on. Silence can sometimes do more harm than good."
Tret grinned and chuckled at Heo's analogy. "Exactly! It's like accidentally kissing your best friend, mistaking them for your ex, and then having to face the awkwardness in front of a crowd. It's better to communicate clearly and avoid such misunderstandings, right?"
Heo nodded with a sheepish grin. "That's not what I meant, Tret. And I apologize for acting foolishly regarding the kiss. But now that I'm sober, I want to discuss something important about you." Heo pointed directly at Tret's chest, right where Tret's heart was throbbing. "Now that I'm clear-headed, I genuinely want to hear from you again because it holds significance to me."
Tret vehemently shook his head. "Do you expect me to confess my love for you? Yes, I do care deeply about you, but only as a best friend." Tret's false statement pierced his heart, causing him immense pain.
Heo's bitter nod revealed his disappointment. "I understand, although that contradicts what I heard from you last night."
"Some things are best left unspoken, Heo."
"Tret, I apologize for any confusion or mixed signals I may have unknowingly sent. Your emotions and the bond we share as friends hold immense value to me, and I want to ensure you understand how much I treasure our connection." With those heartfelt words, Heo turned around and quietly left the room.
Tret followed suit, feeling confused. He didn't know why Heo seemed to be sulking, but Tret just shrugged it off. He went straight to the kitchen because Heo was there cooking breakfast for them. Wren hadn't woken up yet. Tret was sure he would wake up last or only when he felt hungry.
Tret stood there silently, watching Heo prepare their breakfast. The serene atmosphere was filled with the delightful aroma of freshly squeezed orange juice and the gentle sizzling sound of bacon frying on the stove. Heo also prepared the pancakes he had requested earlier. Every movement of Heo's seemed fluid, and his gentle smile radiated warmth and love. The pan was effortlessly handled, ingredients were delicately measured, all while Tret observed in awe.
"Smells delicious," Tret complimented.
Heo laughed. "Well, I only cook for myself."
"Hey, seriously? We're best friends, Heo."
Heo pinched Tret's nose. "Just kidding, Mister."
The scene resembled a romantic tableau, with Heo's gentle hums harmonizing with the morning sounds. Tret was captivated by the way Heo's eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and contentment, painting a beautiful picture of love in motion.
But when Heo suddenly stopped and seemed puzzled, Tret wondered. Heo slowly turned to face him. His smile faltered, and he reached up to his nose, feeling a warm trickle of blood. Tret's heart skipped a beat as the once-perfect moment took an unexpected turn. Tret saw blood trickling from Heo's nostrils. Heo's face paled, concern replacing the radiance that had once adorned them. In that moment of vulnerability, Tret rushed to Heo's side, grabbing tissues and gently guiding Heo to sit down.
"Heo, are you okay? What happened?" He asked once Heo was seated. Tret placed a hand on Heo's shoulder, a mix of worry and genuine care etched on his face.
Heo, slightly dazed, tried to brush off the situation with a weak smile. "I'm fine, Tret. It's just a nosebleed, nothing to worry about."
But Tret wasn't convinced. Didn't Heo have a nosebleed yesterday too? He fetched more tissues and handed them to Heo, his insistence unwavering. "Take this. Let's make sure you're alright. Nosebleeds can sometimes be a sign of something more serious. Have you had these before?"
Heo reluctantly accepted the tissue, dabbing at his nose. "Yes, yesterday, right? I get them occasionally. It's usually nothing serious, just a bit annoying."
Tret's worry didn't dissipate. "Still, we should monitor it. Have you seen a doctor about your nosebleeds? It's important to rule out any underlying causes."
"I said it's okay." Heo's voice rose slightly as he said that, accompanied by a sigh. He stood up and moved away from Tret.
Tret's mind was entangled in a state of bewilderment, his contemplation reaching profound depths. The notion of Heo suffering from nosebleeds without any tangible explanation proved inscrutable. Could it be plausible that Heo harbored an affliction, concealed within his being?