* ੈ✩‧₊˚* Hong Kong ( 19 )

The apartment had been unusually peaceful that evening. Hong Kong leaned against the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone while Iceland sat nearby, half-listening to the rain tapping against the windows. “Hey,”Hong Kong suddenly spoke up, glancing over.“Random question… dogs or cats?”

It sounded casual enough. “Dogs,” Iceland answered simply. Hong Kong paused for a second.“…Oh.”

That was it. No teasing comment, no smug reply, no sarcastic remark. Just a tiny little“oh”before he looked back down at his phone. A few minutes passed. Too quiet. The silence eventually started feeling strange enough that Iceland finally got up and headed toward his bedroom, pushing the door open. Only to freeze. Hong Kong was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, arms wrapped tightly around Iceland’s waist the moment he stepped close enough, forehead pressed against his stomach like he’d been waiting there the entire time.

“…So you’d pick a dog over me that easily?” Hong Kong muttered, voice muffled against his shirt. “That’s actually kind of cruel.”