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Summary
The room was dim, lit only by the warm, amber glow of the bedside lamps and the flickering candle from earlier. The air smelled of vanilla and something sweet, like cotton candy.
But Geonwoo didn't register the smell. He didn't register the lighting. He didn't register anything except the figure sitting on the edge of the bed.
Sangwon was sitting there, legs crossed delicately at the ankles, hands resting primly in his lap. He wasn't wearing his usual oversized t-shirt or the silk pyjamas Geonwoo had bought him.
He was wearing pink.