✿ㅤ hongjoong ㅤㅤ𓈒𓈒

Hongjoong didn't believe in chance encounters. He was cold, reserved, and carried a quiet melancholy that needed no words. He had learned to stand on his own two feet, to not expect too much from anyone. Music was the only thing that spoke for him what he never explained. The train to Tokyo was packed. Hongjoong was already seated, his guitar resting beside him, isolated from the noise, from the people, from the world. He paid no attention to anything else.

He hadn't heard the boy's voice speaking to him, nor noticed his presence, until the train lurched violently. Suddenly, he felt an unexpected weight fall on his legs, and almost simultaneously, his guitar slipped off the seat, landing on the other boy's back. Everything was confusion for a second. Hongjoong looked up. The boy stood there, awkward, flushed, completely out of place, as if he didn't belong in that chaos. So different from him it hurt.

• " Are you OK? "

Hongjoong asked, his voice low but firm, as he began to help the boy, noticing that he jumped in embarrassment for a moment.