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Shang Chao stared at the slumped down figure of a sleeping Yang Cheng with a growing sense of fondness blooming in his chest. He was happy that the other boy had taken a well deserved nap, even if it had been an unprompted one at that and during class nonetheless, but Yang Cheng has earned the small break from his hectic schedule.
His classmates were slowly filing out of the room and they did so Shang Chao reached into his bag and pulled out an envelope, pristine white, and placed it in-between the edges of Yang Cheng laid out Notebook. It would be a couple hours until the other would read the contents and if possible maybe until the next morning.
Shang Chao wouldn't mind waiting. It's not that he ever got a response when he gave these letters to Yang Cheng. The letters were just his way of making sure Yang Cheng knew he was properly appreciated, even if it was from Yang Cheng's view a random nobody who has a tendency of sneaking letters to him from random places.
Gently he brushed away a stray strand of hair that had been blocking his view of Yang Cheng's peaceful face.
As much as Shang Chao wanted to wake him up, he couldn't. Yang Cheng wouldn't like it if Shang Chao had been the one to wake him up from a peaceful nap. To him Shang Chao was a person in his class that he rarely talked to. So he turned around and followed the rest of the students out the door.
Usually leaving Yang Cheng in his vulnerable position would have left a feeling of unsettlement to wash over him. But today Shang Chao knew that this was Yang Cheng's last class of the day and that eventually the professor would notice him there and wake him up and then Yang Cheng would have a couple more hours of free time before he headed to work. So the feeling didn't sit as heavy in his gut as it would've used to.
As Shang Chao made his way back to his empty apartment he thought of the first time he had sent Yang Cheng a letter like today the certain stances were eerily similar. Yang Cheng had fallen asleep in the beginning of their lecture and for the whole of Shang Chao was unable to look away at the sleeping figure of the man. The letter felt heavily in his pocket.
It hadn't been the way that Shang Chao wanted to deliver his letter but the option was there and suddenly so much better than his first idea.
The first letter had been simple, he had typed out and printed it with the utmost care and love that he could put in it. He had written how Yang Cheng's eyes were the bluest of blue, how when he had answered the professors question correctly that his eyes shone with a sincerity that drew him in. He had written that he wished that Yang Cheng would take care of himself more.
This letter now had pretty much the same thing. Shang Chao attempting to gather his thoughts about everything and anything Yang Cheng has been doing. Once he had deemed the letter a good enough satisfaction he had sealed it with a lightning bolt sticker that he saw in a shop that reminded him of Yang Cheng.
He was so busy reminiscing about that day that he didn't know he had arrived at his apartment until he had arrived at the main entrance door. He pushed in the code and took that stairs up.
Shang Chao kicked off his shoes as he entered the door, flipped the light on and unpacked his bag. For the remainder of the day Shang Chao busied himself with his minor amount of school work, arranging the paperwork that was needed for his internship and completed what needed to be completed.
By the time he had finished most of that it was about an hour until the sun setted and Shang Chao found that the last time he ate was an hour before he had delivered Yang Cheng the letter. He wouldn't say that his cooking was subpar, it was average at best but as long as he could cook a semi decent meal he was fine. He wondered if Yang Cheng was capable of cooking if he wasn't always getting take out and easy microwaveable dinners for times sake.
The orange hue of the sun steamed in from what littleness that then curtains were pulled back. As Shang Chao set up the table, his meal steaming hot he pulled back the curtain from his pouch, it had a clear span of the surrounding buildings. But none of the other buildings mattered to Shang Chao, he was looking at a specific building in a specific room. A room that he has moved solely for the purposes of.
The light of Yang Cheng's apartment was off but as Shang Chao ate his meal he couldn't help but think why Yang Cheng was taking too long. Had their professor woke Yang Cheng up on time? Or has Yang Cheng decided to work longer tonight?
He barely touched his food as he waited for the lights to turn on. By the time they eventually did turn Shang Chao was only allowed a few minutes of seeing Yang Cheng's tired form moving around the house. When he stepped in his apartment he had plopped in a microwavable meal. Shang Chao had wrinkled his nose at it as Yang Cheng moved to his room to change out of his clothes. He returned just as the food beeped and didn't even bother to sit down on the table he set down on the couch and ate.
In such a domestic state he couldn't help the urge he had to grab his camera, he double checked that the flash was off before he took one. The image captures Yang Cheng mid air with his mouth open wide, in his quiet, and lonely apartment Shang Chao laughed.
This one was definitely a keeper.
Maybe he would frame it?
Yeah. He would frame it.
He looked up from the camera as Yang Cheng was chugging down a water bottle. He looked at ease and Shang Chao was entirely happy for him.
Yang Cheng had enamoured Shang Chao
in the best possible way.
He was only allowed one more look at Yang Cheng as he closed the curtains blocking Shang Chao's view of him for the remainder of the night. He looked down at his cold meal, he wasn't hungry anymore he had touched half of it but he felt no hunger as he stayed at the closed curtains. He put the leftover contents in a container and then the fridge, and made his way down the hall.
The apartment had two bedrooms and one restroom. Shang Chao had taken the liberty of making the unused bedroom into an office. The layout was quite simple, an office table and its chair laid out before the window that was closed. A small bookshelf was positioned in the corner with his printer and other trinkets. The thing that stood out most of all was the corkscrew board on the wall.
On it were countless pictures of Yang Cheng. One of him on the stage at work, one of him walking a neighbor's dog, one of him on the couch with his headphones. There were countless more.
But this one, he would frame this one and put it on his bookshelf.
He looked at the time on his watch. It had gotten late but he wasn't tired.
He has time, he supposed, to make a new letter.