Chapter 5

On another fateful March evening, Yeonjun was now on the giving end of dragging Beomgyu by their entwined hands.

"Hyung, I do not want to go on there! Mum will scold us if she finds out!'' Whined the younger, lower lip trembling. He tried to dig the heels of his feet into the grassy earth of the field, but the action proved to be of no use. Yeonjun had always been stronger than him anyway. "Then we just have to make sure she doesn't, right?" Yeonjun replied, a cheeky grin forming on his face.

The younger only responded with a petulant groan, but resisted no further. Once they finally stopped, they were met face to face with the giant Ferris wheel; the one on the other side of the park which they'd made their second home. Beomgyu half-expected the lopsided grin on Yeonjun's face to grow even wider as he'd shove him into the already open cabin. Yet, the older boy only turned to look at him, giving their interlocked hands a reassuring squeeze. "Is Beomgyu afraid?"

There it was again—his favourite baby talk, and Beomgyu was slightly taken aback by the worried tone in his voice. Gnawing on his lower lip, he attempted to look up at the very top of the Ferris wheel and imagined them there. Needless to say, a shock jolted through his spine.

But Yeonjun was right there; and as soon as he sensed Beomgyu's fear, his hold on him tightened. "Don't be afraid, hyung is here."

That's right. His hyung is here—and there was nothing for him to be afraid of.

With a made up mind, Beomgyu let out a toughened puff that pushed up his chest; an act of bravery that he needed more than the boy beside him. "Beomgyu isn't afraid." The sly smile made its way onto Yeonjun's face again. Beomgyu wanted to tell himself that he hated it, but he wasn't sure how much of that he actually believed. "Good.''

And with that, they boarded the Ferris wheel.

Yet the next thing Beomgyu knew, he was glued to the older's side—his display of courage moments ago long abandoned as he latched himself onto the entirety of Yeonjun's left arm. He did not care that he looked like a koala right now, or if the latter's tease would make his ears burn crimson later.

Between choked breaths and unrelenting laughter, Yeonjun was finally able to put together a coherent sentence. "You are so adorable! Didn't you say you aren't afraid? Huh, Choi Beomgyu?''

"Shut up! You tricked me! You are so horrible, hyung!'' Beomgyu could only make empty threats and shaky insults, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly he began to feel his head ache. Underneath him, he felt the unstable rise of the passenger cabin.

He would be throwing up out of nausea right now, had it not been for the comforting warmth of the hand he was holding onto.

From above him, he could hear his favourite voice coo. "Beomgyu, it's okay to open your eyes. I promise.'' He spoke, tone surprisingly fond; no more sarcasm present.

And then, the incline of the cabin he'd dreaded so much halted to a stop. "Are we finally done?'' He attempted to peek an eye open, body relaxing significantly.

"No, we're at the top.'' Said Yeonjun, and Beomgyu almost shrieked.

"Then why would you tell me it's safe to open my eyes? You liar! You are the worst person on earth, Choi Yeonjun!" His eyes were clamped shut once again, tiny fists repeatedly landing thuds on the latter's chest. This, however, had no effect of ceasing the older's amused laugh.

"You can see the sunset right now, Beomgyu. It's beautiful. Look, we can even see the maple tree from here too.'' He whispered, his free hand reaching up to cradle the younger's head.

There was silence when Beomgyu didn't respond. He thought the boy had given up persuading him, when a heartbeat later a voice resounded right next to his earlobe. "It's alright to look. Nothing will happen when I'm by your side, silly."

Beomgyu was hesitant—but Yeonjun knew him well enough to know that it was beginning to sway him, so he tried again. "I promise, Gyu."

It was another dull moment of silence before he could hear Beomgyu's muffled voice from where he was buried into his shoulder. "You better.''

And then, slowly, he pulled away. Yeonjun proudly smiled, slowly turning his body to where the sunset was. "I got you," he whispered, "Now open your eyes."

With a shaky exhale, Beomgyu did as he was told.

At first, the younger only saw a bright orange glow—it bombarded his vision and invaded his sight in a way that almost startled him. But after blinking a few times, his pupils adjusted to the light.

What he was met with almost took his breath away.

It was golden hour then, the gentle cast of the sunset painting everything it could reach a stunning orange. The sky was a perfect harmony of red, pink and yellow; the colors vibrant and almost whimsical, like a canvas meticulously finessed by a world-class artist.

Beomgyu let out an audible gasp. He could hear a faint chuckle from the male next to him, but he couldn't care less.

From the nearby clock tower, Beomgyu could barely read the time. With a squint, he attempted; it was 5:53pm.

He had never seen the sun so up close—it burned an angry crimson, looking like it would be within his palms right now if only he reached out. "H-has the sun always been so red?" He blurted out, and as soon as those words left him, he felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

"It's so cool, isn't it?'' Chuckled the older before he pointed. "There, look. Our maple tree.''

Then, Yeojun watched with amusement as the younger's eyes visibly lit up. "Wow! It looks so small from here. Wait, wait. I can see the roof of your house, hyung! Look!"

But Yeonjun wasn't looking. He was too busy staring at the boy beside him.

And Beomgyu wished he hadn't turn to catch his gaze when he was met with silence, because the affection in those same eyes—staring at him like he hung the stars—would then introduce him to a lifetime of unbecoming he didn't know would be lying ahead.

And neither of them were old enough to recognise just what that moment entailed, nor what it will manifest into—the fond smiles on both their faces, the knots in their stomachs, the feeling of being so high up that somehow reaching for the sky sounded perfectly sensible.

From then on, Beomgyu was no longer afraid of heights.

"Happy birthday, Beomgyu."