By Zephyria 
After a moment of contemplation, Yeon-jun answered.
“What I want to do… well.”
He seemed to have nothing come to mind even after thinking about it. Just as Eun-ha, narrowing his eyes at the epitome of a bored college student, was about to add an “Hmm,” in response—
“I’m not really sure what I want to do.”
The following words made Eun-ha tilt his head involuntarily. It was a somewhat puzzling statement. Because to Eun-ha, his image of Yeon-jun was quite clear.
“…Don’t you want to do something in art?”
A fairly diligent art student. A member of a family with a long-standing tradition in the arts. Yet Yeon-jun widened his eyes slightly as if the topic was unexpected, then merely smiled blandly.
“That’s not exactly something I want to do.”
“…Really?”
“Yes.”
Not something he wants to do? But why… Eun-ha moved his lips as if about to ask something, then closed them again. His expression was clearly curious.
Yeon-jun, interpreting the implication, shrugged his shoulders.
“Well… For one, I started too young, so I never really had the chance to consider anything else. My family also wanted me to go in that direction. And it was the only thing I was somewhat good at. So, yeah.”
“……”
“I don’t know what else to do if not this?”
His explanation was calm, as if he had no regrets. In short, it meant it had continued more out of inertia than will.
“…I thought you liked painting.”
Eun-ha replied, finding it unexpected. Truly, he had. Though he hadn’t seen much, whenever he saw the drawings this kid made, he always felt a pleasant impression. In many ways.
Yeon-jun gave a short laugh and turned his gaze forward. The faint smile lingering in his eyes faded, and soon a pensive look surfaced.
“There was a time when I did like it…”
“……”
“But now, I’m not really sure.”
Eun-ha stared intently at his profile. He seemed to have his own share of thoughts, yet still didn’t appear to have any major regrets. A clean attitude, as if to say it’s unfortunate but what can you do if you’ve already stopped liking it.
Suddenly, an inexplicably uneasy feeling welled up. What is it? This strange mood. While Eun-ha made a peculiar expression, Yeon-jun changed the subject and asked back. So, Hyung, don’t you have anything you want to do? It was just as Eun-ha calmly met his gaze. The eyes that met his curved softly.
“I’m curious about what you want to do with me.”
Eun-ha only questioned inwardly. Don’t you think we’re already doing too much together?
Several peaceful days passed. Quiet days without any special events. While Eun-ha liked that, he also harbored a slightly suspicious feeling and often observed Yeon-jun. But as always, he didn’t add much comment.
As summer arrived, Gu Hae-bin, who had been popping up in front of Eun-ha all the time, had also been quiet lately, and one day, Eun-ha heard the reason from the person himself. A reason all too familiar to Eun-ha. Love affairs. As if his habit of liking women had gone nowhere, it seemed he had found someone he liked and was spending quite a bit of time with them.
Meanwhile, Yeon-jun really got his driver’s license. Lately, he had said he had plans almost every day, so Eun-ha thought that might be it, but then one day, he suddenly showed his license right in front of him. It had happened in less than ten days. In front of a bewildered Eun-ha, Yeon-jun suggested going for a drive with his characteristically sparkling eyes. That is, with Eun-ha in the passenger seat.
It wasn’t an offer to refuse. It was also amusing because he seemed like an excited puppy, hiding it skillfully and then scurrying over to tell him as soon as he got it. And Eun-ha felt like seeing how it would go.
And Eun-ha had to completely retract that thought within less than 30 minutes of getting in the passenger seat.
“…Are we going to die today, Yeon-jun?”
A calm voice filled the silent car. The peculiarity was that the very person who broke the silence was clinging to the car handle as if holding onto a lifeline. Worried it might negatively affect the driving, Eun-ha deliberately spoke in a restrained tone, but whether it wasn’t properly heard or not, there was no response.
Eun-ha looked anxiously to the side. As usual, he skeptically scrutinized the flashy exterior, then gasped as his body suddenly leaned to one side. He tightened his grip on the handle even more. Simultaneously, the front view he urgently checked seemed fine. Yes. Technically, it was. There wasn’t any particular problem. He wasn’t violating traffic rules or making mistakes. It was just that everything was subtly rough and seemed to teeter on the edge of crossing the line.
Should this be considered good for a beginner, or bad? It certainly seemed to have a knack for shortening lifespans. A peculiar driving method, indeed.
“…I didn’t want to go this early.”
“What are you talking about, Hyung?”
“Can’t you see my lifespan shortening?”
“Why? …Hyung? Why are you holding the handle like that?”
He’s asking because he doesn’t know? Eun-ha stared with a mix of absurdity and resentment, but all that returned was a clear, clueless gaze. What’s the use of saying anything… Resigned, Eun-ha let out a sigh through his nose, pressed his body against the seat, and waved his hand. Meaning to watch the road ahead.
It was evening. Fortunately, amidst the gradually congesting traffic, they safely arrived at the restaurant, their destination after the drive. After a pleasant meal, on the way back, Eun-ha naturally and somewhat unilaterally took the driver’s seat. Looking to the side, he saw Yeon-jun, knowingly or unknowingly… no, blatantly with ears drooping as if dejected.
“Was it that bad?”
“What?”
“My driving.”
“…It’s not that. Just taking turns, that’s all.”
The answer didn’t come immediately. A brief, blank stare followed. At the end of the piercing gaze, Yeon-jun, who had been twitching the corner of his mouth as if holding back a laugh, finally let out a small chuckle and spoke.
“I’ve felt this for a while… Hyung, you seem really bad at lying.”
Eun-ha quietly turned his head forward. He had nothing else to say in response.
So what. He let out a light sigh and started the engine. Yeon-jun, who had been observing Eun-ha’s profile with newly restless eyes as he began driving familiarly, subtly reached out his hand. He took hold of the hand that had been resting on the console box. The fingers interlocking brought a slightly ticklish sensation. To Eun-ha, it was a somewhat strange phenomenon. He had judged that the time when minor skin contact felt peculiar was long past, yet here he was feeling this clumsy emotion.
Upon arriving home, they spent a leisurely evening as always. Washing up, fiddling with their phones in a refreshed mood, sitting side by side watching TV.
Then, at some moment, his wrist was suddenly grabbed. With a force as if to stop him. Eun-ha, who had been engrossed in the movie playing on the OTT platform, blinked and looked to the side. After reading Yeon-jun’s slightly troubled expression, he glanced down slightly and saw his own hand, held aloft in the air. That is, on Yeon-jun’s thigh.
It seemed he had been unconsciously groping without realizing it. After grasping the situation, Eun-ha made a flustered expression.