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An applause, Punz jolts awake. His head spins, his eyes blur. Cerulean irises gawk around the area. He notices how his body is sitting on a cold wooden chair, while some others have gone onto their feet, constantly clapping towards a stage occupied by a well-dressed violinist. Surrounded by oaken walls. Freshened by the air conditioning. He doesn't know what's happening, but a chorus of claps causes him to clap along in hurry, unsynchronised to the others.
The claps die down after several seconds. People who got out of their seats finally sat back down. Punz straightens his posture, clearing his throat inaudibly. Silky fingers rub forehead. He shuts his eyes, and then, he remembers.
Fatigue got onto him, causing him to sleep in between the concert. He wasn’t supposed to sleep in the first place. He’s supposed to have his eyes open wide, watching and waiting for the performers to finish their musical pieces.
Upright spine slumps against the frigid backrest. A faint gasp puffs out of chapped lips. Fingers on the forehead trail to the moist dirty-blond hair, pulling it back as if the slicked-back style isn’t enough. His forehead pounds for more sleep, but Punz knows that he can’t sleep again, not when there’s a concert of many different musicians, one of them being a close friend: Sapnap.
His slumber catches the time. On his watch, it’s 15:24 — two hours have passed since the start of this concert. That's a lot, too much.
Punz wonders if Sapnap has already performed. Punz wonders if he slept during his performance. It would be embarrassing if he did. He imagines the frown on Sapnap’s face once he steps onto the stage. Holding his bow with a grip of iron, it nearly breaks.
Fuck. Punz pinches the bridge of his nose, slumping forward, kicking the backpack on his feet. Punz really did mess up.
“The next piece will be performed by Sapnap…” the woman speaking through the speakers announces, echoing in the blond’s mind. It deafens after the first name.
Punz shots up.
Sapnap.
A sigh of relief escapes his lips. Tensed shoulders soften by each second. The pounding headache vanishes with the wind. Punz lets his sight hover over the stage, eager to see Sapnap on stage. He didn’t fall asleep through it after all. He’s fine. It’s fine.
As a short euphony of claps chime, a shadow emerges from the back of the red curtains. Hollow footsteps echo throughout the room, bouncing off wooden walls. Punz leans front to see clearer, seeing nothing due to his eyesight. Swift fingers snatch the glasses hooked against his collar. Punz wears those glasses, and suddenly, everything is clear.
Sapnap on stage. Smooth caramel-brown hair waving against the breeze. In a suit, properly worn and tidy. A neutral frown, replaced quickly by a meaningless smile. Posture straight, holding his bow and violin. Jade eyes inspecting all. From left to right, he sees the audience upon him. Until it lands on cerulean.
Punz notices the look from Sapnap. Punz nods and smiles.
The meaningless smile on Sapnap’s lips widen. The two share a look. Assurance. Hopeful. Confidence. That’s what Punz sees through the wonders of those eyes. It is unnoticed when Sapnap glances away leisurely.
The polished violin is lifted to a horizontal position. Whiskered chin settles on the comfortable chin rest. Delicate fingers adjust on the strings atop the ebony neck. The bow lays upon the ready strings. The spotlight shines on his eyes, goldening jade. And then, his arms motion to the side.
Strings against strings, the tune of deep and smooth sounds throughout the spacious room. Notes high and low, a graceful melody strung together by feather and cotton. Resonating beautifully, magically. Like an angel’s song, sung to purify the brutal world. Punz has never seen a violin concert before. He only watched two or three violinists before knocking to a slumber. But when it’s Sapnap, it’s different.
Eyelashes flutter. Eyes shut. Body sways. Slow breaths.
Punz wants this to be the music he hears as he deceases. A peaceful piece, the blond would be falling from the clouds.
Punz can’t help but to watch the brunet move elegantly. Following the rhythm of the piece, as if he is doing the waltz with less motion. Everyone is paying attention to the violinist, everyone has their eyes on the violinist. But Punz feels like the room is only occupied by him, gazing upon the violinist as if Sapnap is serenading him.
Heavenly. Yet, Punz looks away. Towards his yellow undecorated backpack on his feet. The one he is not supposed to bring but brought anyway due to how he rushed here. The one which holds all of the things Punz often needs.
The zippers of the backpack fall open. There pops up a book — specifically, a sketchbook. Onyx-black cover, 100 pages bound together by a spiral binding. 10 pages already used for his courses and 14 used to fulfil his everlasting boredom.
He pulls it out, attempting to not make much of a noise, while also scrambling his hand into the backpack to find a pencil.
The music builds up. Rough fingers open the sketchbook to an empty white page.
Cerulean glances to closed jade, before moving back to white. Graphite rests upon white, and from there, it moves. Soft dust covers the white. Translucent graphite trails upon paper. Lines form, black gusts. Punz glances up to down, tailing the hushed beats of the played melody.
He can hear it — his sketch — he can hear it. It’s right in front of him. A muse of underrated beauty. Punz continues, the music continues. Strings against strings, tint against bland. Unbeknownst to him, the piece ends on the last stroke. Breaths staining his lungs are finally exuded.
An applause for the violinist. Punz removes the graphite from the page. He looks up, only to be greeted with a bowing Sapnap, straightening halfway through the applause. Jade rests on cerulean. A frown is to be seen, before hollow steps fade along with the brunet against red silky curtains.
The comforting breeze washes away. Others fall back to their seats.
Punz is left breathless.
✦
Chocolate boots dash down the white and vast hallway. Raging footsteps dance on the marbled floors, passing through the endless pillars holding up the ceilings. Quick breathes. Scented with charcoal. Pink dusty cheeks. Backpack hurtling. Punz keeps his head straight, eyes narrow. Attempting to find him before he vanishes into thin air like a ghost.
The sketch the blond made of Sapnap was unexpected. It was as if he was possessed by a soul, unable to think once the lines were stroked down against the parchment. Punz didn’t blink nor breathe for a second either. But the end product is surprising. The end product is enchanting.
He wants to give it to him.
Punz tried to search for Sapnap backstage, but his coach said that he had left to go buy water. Punz didn’t want to sit and wait for Sapnap. Thus, he is here.
Candles hanging against pillars. Hot wax liquifying, descending towards the ground. Weak fires light up to a gradient of blue and orange. Sweet-smelling smoke straining the infinite passages.
It takes only one minute for Punz to see the main lobby, while still being on the second floor, occupied by the golden grace of a chandelier. A large wall of glass. A sliding door as the entrance. Large plant pots placed in front of pillars, and air conditioners placed beside them. Walking to the entrance is a brunet, curls as messy, curls as familiar. His fingers are holding a case. Specifically, a black violin case.
Punz grasps onto the frigid railings from the second floor, learning how that’s Sapnap.
“Sapnap!” He shouts, an attempt to gain the other’s attention. Luckily, it did. Sapnap stops his steady steps. He turns on his heels.
Dull jade rests on tired cerulean.
The relieved Punz huffs, rushing down the unmoving escalator with his hand strongly gripping against his backpack, almost tripping against the black steps and the yellow lines.
Chocolate boots against the ground of the main lobby. Punz pants as if he had just ran ten laps of a marathon without break. Sapnap still faces him with an oddly shocked look, before scoffing his way into amusement.
“You really ran all the way here, huh?” The western accent is clear in his voice.
Punz gapes up, admiring Sapnap’s boiling cheeks. He smiles. “I tried to find you backstage. But apparently, you’re not there.”
A deafening hum. Jade fades away bitterly. “So, why are you even here anyway? What’s the rush for?” Sapnap asks, losing his accent.
Punz chuckles in disbelief, shaking his head at the obliviousness in the brunet’s expression. “What’s the rush for? Are you kidding? I haven’t told you how amazing you were at the performance—”
“As if you watched.”
Punz halts. “What?”
“You—you didn’t watch. You didn’t watch my performance, Punz!” Sullen anger resides on sharp tongue. Blazing flames ignite behind those jade eyes. Sapnap steps forward — stomping even, yet Punz doesn’t flinch for a second. He knows for a fact that he watched. He was there, sitting with eyes wide, taking in the melody as his heartbeat followed the tempo.
Punz was left breathless.
“What? I did watch you, Sapnap. Why would I not watch your performance!?”
“You think I didn’t see you looking down to your stupid sketchbook? You were distracted. Obviously.”
“My sketch—” Punz stops his words, realising what Sapnap meant by not watching. Punz grins, anger vanishing from his enraged face.
Sapnap takes a step backwards, balling his fists as if he is about to involve himself into a fight. “Why are you smiling, you fucker!? You didn’t even clap during my bow! Just admit it. Just admit that you hated my perform—”
A loud thud is heard, ringing through the endless hallways. Punz has his backpack against his feet. The blood-filled air shifts to awkwardness. The silence reigns for seconds.
Sapnap observes, unblinking, rage still shielding his voice. “What are you doing?”
The zipper of the backpack falls open. Punz shoves his hand right into it. He rummages through his items, before having his fingertips graze over a rough texture. The blond huffs. “I wasn’t watching you because I was drawing a sketch of you, you dumbass.”
Blush-pink pigments beige cheeks. “Y-you were!?”
“Yeah.” Punz faces up. “You looked so handsome, I couldn’t help it.”
Crimson-red blooms above pink. “I did!?”
“Yes.” Punz chuckles from Sapnap’s flustered reaction. He believes it’s cute. “I can show you the sketch right now, and maybe you can have it if you want.”
“Really?”
“You sound so hesitant. What happened to my confident and cocky Sapnap I once know and love?” Punz cocks his eyebrow, a corner of his lips tugged to form a smirk.
A heady grumble sneaks under overwhelmed breaths. Delicate fingers grip tighter against the soot violin case. Sapnap lets his lips zip, his walls up. But Punz can still see the nervousness through it, as if the walls were glass.
Punz sighs audibly, relaxing his shoulders mostly to relax himself. “So, do you want to see the sketch or not?”
“I do. I’m just—” Sapnap halts. Punz gives a curious gaze, silently begging him to continue. Guilt surfaces jade. Sapnap looks down in fear. “I’m just scared, I think. I never had someone sketch me.”
Punz tilts his head, pulling out the sketchbook from the backpack. “Do you not want me to sketch you anymore? It’s okay if you’re not okay with it.”
Sapnap laughs nervously. “No! I’m okay if you do it! ...Unless you purposefully made me look like shit, then maybe I’ll have to punch you.” The familiar smirk on Sapnap’s lips rises.
“It’s not shit! Trust me. You look pretty,” Punz assures, flipping through the many pages of the book. Slice-like sounds emit from the parchments.
Sapnap whines. “I can’t trust you without you showing—” Sapnap jumps when Punz stops on a page, pushing it forward for Sapnap to get a better look.
Stars glisten upon angered eyes. Gold drowns the brunet into ethereal. He stands with silence, staring into the paper. His sight trails against every graphite line made by the pencil that Punz once held. From the thick to the thin, the yellow light above shines the grey dust. A violin case drops. Shaky hands carefully grab the page, pulling the completed sketch closer. A sketch of Sapnap playing the violin, with eyes shut, focused. Punz waits for Sapnap to reply. But the reply was unexpected.
“You made me look pretty,” Sapnap mutters, shyly batting his eyes away from him.
Punz scoffed. “Made? I didn’t make you look pretty. You are pretty. You’re amazing, Sapnap.”
“I—”
The red dust on his cheeks won’t fade. Instead, it brightens, illuminating under the gold chandelier. Sapnap lowers his sketch, pressing his hand against his forehead. A hat would often be there, but it’s not here today.
A disappointed sigh. Sapnap continues, “do you know the title of the piece I played?”
Punz doesn’t know where this is going. “No?”
“It’s Liebestraum No. 3.” A sudden smile against vermillion lips. Sapnap gazes up at the taller. “Do you know what the piece originated from?”
Punz cocks his eyebrow. “I… I don’t.”
“It’s based on a German poem.” Sapnap’s voice has gone hoarse. Deeper in octave, weaker in words. It speaks with sweetness and sugar, the one that doesn’t leave a pungent aftertaste, the one that doesn’t make the stomach whirl. But it does summon butterflies, fluttering.
For some reason, Punz mimics him. He steps closer. Sapnap tries his best to hide his face under the given parchments as Punz asks, “What’s the poem about?”
A weighing exhale. Hot against pages. Sapnap gives a look of pink as the word seeps under sighs. “Love.”
Punz would say he’s shocked, but he keeps up a calm expression. Yet, more questions are appearing, rather than “How does this all relate?”
“That piece I performed was for you, Punz. I’ll just be blunt; I love you.” Three words from Sapnap. Short, yet enough to make a heart skip a beat. “That’s why I got so mad when I thought you weren’t watching. I thought you hated it. I thought you hated me.”
“Well, that was the best performance I’ve ever seen in my life, Sap.” Punz reassures, carefully brushing Sapnap’s brown strand away from his face. Clear jade — Punz loves looking into the other’s eyes. “You were breath-taking, and I mean it. If your performance was to get me to fall for you, well, I’m already falling, and I’m falling faster.”
“Wow. Very cheesy of you,” Sapnap chuckles as he buries himself under the cuffs of his suit. Punz rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Shut up. We were having a moment.” Punz emphasised on the moment, causing a small laugh to break through Sapnap’s lips.
That laugh stifles a smile. Punz can’t help but watch him giggle naturally, brightly. A laugh which is the sun. A laugh which shines in Punz's world.
Punz is falling quick.
As the laughs fade into dim, the awkwardness surfaces again. Sapnap has his eyes away from Punz. Punz has his eyes straight at him. Thoughts cloud minds. Both similar in standing, negative in feeling.
The bubbling thoughts fade once Sapnap speaks.
“Does that mean you love me back? Or— I mean, you don’t have to!” He tries.
A hand holds another. Careful thumb trails to the four fingers. Sapnap lets his shoulders calm as Punz gives him a light hum. “I do, Sapnap. I do. I love you. I love you. And I’ll say it again if I have to.”
A sniff. Sapnap coherently lets out a breath. The air shifts to bliss.
“Can you… hold me?”
Punz is taken aback by the unheard request. A voice blown away by the breeze. Ears deafened to the seas. Yet, Punz hears it, and he rests his hand on the other’s cheek, grazing his thumb against the cheekbone. Meanwhile, Punz’s free hand settles on Sapnap’s, laying his palms against his fingers.
Sapnap stares thoroughly into Punz’s eyes, taking in every truth and lies the blond possesses. Then, he nods adagio. He leans into the warm palms, allowing Punz to caress his soft pink cheeks carefully as if a single mistake can shatter it into unholdable pieces. Delicate lines of lashes flutter, veiling the drunk jade under beige eyelids. Audible hums escape sore throat, playing an angelic melody perhaps better than the one the violinist performed.
Punz has never fallen in love deeper than he has been right now. He has fallen in love with different people before — once or twice, but the feelings end quickly. Within mere weeks, it would vanish like grey fluffy clouds after heavy windy rain. But with Sapnap, it’s different. With Sapnap’s presence, Punz can feel his silent heart ache, a desire that he wants him, he needs him. But for months, he believed that it would never be real.
It takes seconds to realise they’ve moved closer. The when is where Punz can’t remember. Though, he can feel Sapnap’s breaths, slow and steady, knowing that his heart says the opposite. He can feel Sapnap’s heartbeat, beating fast under the tidy suit. He can feel Sapnap’s warmth, heating him to a high degree.
Lips brushing lips. There is nothing to halt them.
“Can I kiss you?” Sapnap asks.
Yet, this doesn’t feel real.
“Yes.”
This feels like a dream.
Fighting against time, their lips connect without wait. Their breaths halt, their minds halt. Their eyes shut and all they see is black. They focus on the saccharine, the sweetness. The strength, the softness of kisses.
It’s short, but for that second, it feels like time stopped. Punz is amidst destruction and scare. Punz is amidst new and unfamiliar. And it’s perfect. Sapnap’s perfect. They’re perfect.
Lips part. Warmth vanishes. Eyelids open. Unsynchronised exhales. The never-ending longing in Sapnap’s eyes.
He wants more.
“Can I kiss you again?” Sapnap asks once more.
“Yes.”
Formerly soft, now followed by force. Punz leans in close, causing Sapnap to press his warm palms against Punz’s shoulder for balance. Their lips meet, more firm than it is gentle. A faint hum distorts in the shorter’s throat. Warmth arrives back to comfort. They match each other’s rhythm. They match each other’s beats. Irregular patterns are synced together, and when they separate for breaths, they come back in again.
They don’t want this to break. They don’t want this to shatter. And if this is just something unreal, Punz doesn’t want this to end.
To his luck, it’s real. When they separate, it’s real. When they part, it’s real. When they catch their breaths, it’s real.
The ache in Punz’s heart wears. Hot huffs of inhales and exhales are sounded from inches away. Sight drifts onto red lips and to euphoric eyes again. Cheeks pigment into a medley of rose and ruby.
A snicker. Sapnap rests his forehead against dusty neck. Shoulders bouncing. Chest giggling. Punz raises his eyebrow in amusement, noticing how giggly Sapnap became out of the blue.
With confused looks, Punz asks, “what?”
“I— n-nothing.” Sapnap’s stutter hides in between uncontrollable laughter. Punz attempts to form possible ideas of what Sapnap may be laughing about. Perhaps, it’s because of the kiss. Perhaps, the kiss was bad.
Worry refutes, “i-it doesn’t sound like nothing!” Sapnap’s laughter only enlarges. Punz can’t help but laugh along from haziness, face exploding into a cherry. “Why are you laughing? It’s making me feel weird.”
“I just— Fuck. I never thought this would happen.”
An ache. Sapnap’s right. Punz too would never believe this would happen. This feels too magical for it to happen — too false. Several hours ago, Punz was excited over the fact that he’s finally invited to a performance. Now, they’re together, Punz thinks.
“Me too,” Punz replies, honest yet with fear. Relief never scares him more than now. Assurance never scares him more than now. Only a soft smile is plastered on lonely lips. “I’m glad to know you like me back…”
A satisfied hum. A light brush is felt by Punz’s shoulders. Sapnap returns the smile, hiding it in Punz’s hoodie. They stay like this for several seconds. In silence, holding each other and not letting go. It feels like minutes have passed, hours have passed. And when Sapnap pushes himself off of Punz, emptiness floods in.
Seconds aren't enough.
A face covered by hues of flustered red, Sapnap looks back down at the sketch of him. He has looked at it many times, but jade eyes continue to glitter like a child in a candy store. “Um. Thank you for the sketch, by the way. I, uh. I like it— I love it, actually.”
Punz nods. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you loved it. You can keep the sketch, if you want to.”
“I can!?” Sapnap looks at Punz. Stars multiply exponentially against jade. Punz can’t help but laugh softly from the act.
“Yes. Of course you can,” Punz says, ruffling Sapnap’s naturally messy strands.
“Holy shit. Holy shit—” Sapnap clears his throat, covering himself into the parchments again once he realises his excitement. “I-I mean… Thank you. Again.”
Punz chuckles, admiring the brunet’s warm face. “Cute.” He pinches Sapnap’s cheek without much warning.
Sapnap huffs, red deepening into dark once Punz lets go off his cheeks with a tickled smirk. Sapnap looks away to avoid eye contact, before settling his sight on the sliding door. A sharp inhale, Sapnap walks towards the sliding door away from Punz, hands clutching tightly against the violin case and sketch.
A frown of silent disappointment. Sapnap says, “I should go get water now. I’ll talk to you in several minutes.”
“Wait.”
Sapnap stops his tracks in front of the sliding door. The doors open by itself, hiding behind the large glass walls serving as a window.
Cerulean rests on jade. An outline is formed around Sapnap by the sunlight. The cars honk from behind, aeroplanes glide along the skies. The clouds vanish, and with a bite to the lip, Punz realises how magical Sapnap looks at this moment.
Finally, the short words fall out of his tongue. “What are we?”
Sapnap exhales, curving the corner of vermillion lips upwards. He replies with, “whatever you want us to be.”
An answer not even Punz is sure of, but from the smile, Punz can tell how glad Sapnap is. Compared to when he was on stage. Compared to when he got off stage. Joy conquers him. And before Punz knows it, Sapnap dismisses himself out of the building with skipping feet, footsteps muffled by the heavy wind.
Whatever you want us to be.
Huh.
Punz grins, ambling back to the escalator he once rushed in as the thought clouded his mind.