Vol 6 Bonus track 10

It was not uncommon to open his eyes in the darkness. He was a light sleeper, and his insomnia often came with headaches.

 

“……”

 

But this time was different. An anxious feeling swept over him the moment he opened his eyes. Philip immediately sat up. Peter, who should have been sleeping beside him, was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Peter.”

 

He called the name, but there was no answer. He looked around. The dim, bluish dawn sky indicated the time.

 

Philip slipped on the clothes scattered on the floor. The damp, still-wet clothes were unpleasant, but there was no time to care about that. The only thought was to find Peter. Just as he put on one shoe and was looking for the other, he heard footsteps.

 

Philip’s eyes met Peter’s as he descended the basement stairs. As Philip moved toward him, Peter called out, “Don’t come closer.”

 

“……”

 

Philip froze, his jaw clenching tightly. Peter continued down the stairs, shining the flashlight in his hand onto the floor.

 

“Watch your step. I tried to clean up a bit as soon as I woke up, but it was too dark to clear everything. There must still be shards of glass…”

 

Philip walked over and embraced Peter. Though surprised, Peter tried to check his footing, but Philip did not let go. Peter sighed softly and rested his head against Philip’s arm.

 

“I thought you wouldn’t come back.”

 

“Me?”

 

Peter asked, as if he didn’t understand.

 

“Yesterday, I acted like such an asshole.” Philip stroked the back of Peter’s neck as he spoke.

 

“You asked me to stop, but I didn’t… Even after coming twice inside you. Later, you cried, weakly begging me to stop, but I just couldn’t. It was the first time I’d ever continued like that with someone who cried and asked me to stop. In many ways, it was a baffling experience for both of us.”

 

“I must’ve gone mad from wanting you so much.” 

 

Peter’s neck blushed as Philip kissed it lightly and whispered.

 

“You must have hated it. I’m sorry.”

 

“…Well, more than hating it…” Peter mumbled, lowering his head.

 

Since it was his first time, he didn’t know what to think, feeling both embarrassed and somewhat pleased despite the pain…

 

Philip held Peter tighter. Peter had no idea how foolish it was to confess that his first experience had been with him at his age. And yet, even this foolish act seemed beautiful to him. 

 

I’ve really lost it.

 

“You’re up early.”

 

As Peter quietly fiddled with Philip’s arm, he finally spoke.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You should get some more sleep.”

 

Philip responded by kissing Peter’s hair.

 

“I brought something simple to eat. And…”

 

Philip’s kiss trailed from his forehead to his eyes, down his nose, and finally to his lips. Their lips met briefly.

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

Peter, who was looking at him in a daze, quickly nodded in response to Philip’s question.

 

“It must have been uncomfortable.”

 

They had fallen asleep with their bodies nestled together on the old, narrow sofa.

 

“… I usually sleep well,” Peter answered, looking slightly embarrassed. Philip burst out laughing.

 

“Hahaha.”

 

With his tousled hair, wrinkled shirt, and slightly disheveled face, Peter looked at his partner as if he were the most radiant person in the world.

 

“You did sleep well. Even snoring.”

 

“What? I-I did?”

 

“You were drooling too. This spot was soaked.” Philip pointed to his chest, causing Peter’s face to turn bright red.

 

“I’m sorry. I usually don’t drool. Oh, right. I brought a change of clothes. You can put this on.”

 

Peter took a white T-shirt out of his bag and handed it to him. Philip glanced at the size.

 

“This isn’t yours, is it?”

 

“No, I thought mine would be too small for you, so I brought my brother Aaron’s.”

 

Philip returned the shirt with a slight smile.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Go on, wear it. It’s okay.”

 

“It wouldn’t feel right to wear someone else’s clothes without permission.” Wearing Aaron’s clothes wasn’t just uncomfortable; it felt downright terrible.

 

“…You might catch a cold.”

 

Philip considered mentioning that he had never caught a cold in his life but decided against it. The thought of luring Peter over to his place with an excuse of being sick to indulge in his presence again seemed appealing. No matter how much he liked him, he did not want to experience another night on a cramped, sunken sofa.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll go straight home and take a hot shower.”

 

“Go straight home. Don’t stop anywhere.” Though he felt like asking where else he could possibly go looking like this, Philip just smiled and agreed. He found Peter’s unnecessary, awkward concern endearing.

 

The two of them sat on the sofa, sharing the sandwiches Peter had brought. Philip held Peter by the door, kissing him for a long time before he had to go up before his parents woke up.

 

“…I don’t want to go.”

 

At Philip’s muttered words, Peter blinked in slight surprise, then offered, “Well, would you like to come to my room?”

 

“What?”

 

“You can hide in the closet or under the bed if my parents come. Oh, but… they don’t come in too often.”

The idea he suggested was clumsy and quaint. Philip’s eyes held a faint trace of amusement as he looked at someone so far removed from his usual preferences.

Peter existed outside of Philip’s boundaries. Appearance, personality, tastes, speech—even gender. But when Peter was with him, Philip’s boundaries often blurred and crumpled. Peter crossed lines with ease.

 

“Peter.”

 

At the low voice, Peter tensed and responded, “Yes?”

 

“You might only like me because you don’t really know me.”

 

“What?”

 

“I have a horrible personality, and, more than anything…” Philip, seeming slightly anxious, brushed his cheek.

 

“…I don’t understand other people’s feelings well.” He’d never cared about others’ feelings. He thought not knowing wouldn’t cause any real issues in life.

 

“I’ll never fully understand you.” And, of course, you won’t understand me, either.

 

Philip added with a wry smile.

 

A psychiatrist once told his mother, “Your son will never think in a typical way. Consider it a mental disability.”

 

Mental disability. He laughed the first time he heard the term. He found it ridiculous that a doctor would call something invisible a disability, and even more absurd that his mother reacted as if the world had ended. So what if his brain was a little broken? It didn’t even show.

 

Philip looked at Peter, who seemed a bit scared, looking up at him. His mouth went dry with nervousness. This was the first time his mental issues felt like a defect, just like the doctor said.

 

“It’s probably not what you think—it’s likely the worst.” After saying it, Philip regretted it. What if Peter thought he was too messed up to be with? Should he just demand Peter take responsibility for having slept together once? I mean, I got him to do everything, so if he dares say no now, maybe I’ll just…

 

“…I didn’t contact you on purpose.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s true that I couldn’t use my phone, but I saw you with that girl at the party, so I avoided school and didn’t call you.”

 

Peter fidgeted, unable to meet his gaze, fiddling with the edge of his clothes as if confessing a grave sin.

 

“I know. I told you I figured it out.”

 

“So… what I mean is…” Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“…I thought it’d be nice if it upset you a little. I know not answering my calls probably wouldn’t hurt you, but maybe… at least make you think about me… I’m sorry.”

 

Philip watched Peter’s confession with a blank expression.

 

“…I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

 

Peter asked. Once again, Peter was trying to cover for him over something trivial.

 

Philip just stared at him in silence.

 

It was the worst. How could he have fallen for him so badly over something so trivial, so much so that he couldn’t even think straight? And he knew he’d only fall harder. Dammit. This felt like his life was heading toward disaster.

 

Philip nodded, murmuring, “Yeah,” and pulled Peter close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

 

“You’re the worst. I got really hurt, you know.”

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

Philip couldn’t help but burst into laughter at Peter’s genuine apology.

 

“Hahaha.”

 

Peter blinked with wide eyes, then pouted. 

 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I’m not, hahaha. All right. I should go. If I stay longer, something bad might happen.”

 

“Something bad?”

 

“I’ll end up liking you too much.”

 

Peter became more and more precious to him. With each blink, every word spoken. He regretted not finding him sooner. If he stayed, he might just end up begging Peter to let him hide under his bed.

 

“I’ll call you later.”

 

After saying that, Philip raised both hands, curling his fingers to emphasize, “I mean it.” Peter’s face flushed, recalling the last time he said he’d call and then disappeared for days.

 

“That… that was my fault.”

 

Philip chuckled again, gently ruffling Peter’s hair, said, “See you,” and walked away.

 

Peter stood at the door, watching Philip leave until he disappeared, then went inside. He sneaked up the stairs and into his room, turning on his phone as soon as he closed the door.

 

Missed messages popped up like popcorn—all from Philip. Peter checked them one by one.

 

[Did you get home safely?]

 

It was from the day they worked on the assignment together.

 

[I was too emotional earlier. Sorry.]

 

[You left your notes.]

 

A photo of Philip holding Peter’s notebook was attached. Peter quickly saved it.

 

[I solved the problem. If you want to hear the solution, you’ll have to call.]

 

A picture of the paper with answers scribbled on it. Next to it, Philip’s phone number and a simple “call me” written down. It was a typical flirt.

 

Peter couldn’t help but smile. More flirting followed: how he finished the assignment, so Peter owed him coffee, a movie, a Friday night ice cream.

 

When he didn’t respond, the tone changed.

 

[I can’t reach you. I’m worried. Please contact me.]

 

[Your phone is off. What’s going on?]

 

[Let’s meet at school. I’ll wait there to give back your assignment.]

 

A photo of a bench was attached. It meant he’d be waiting.

 

The next day, and the day after that. The bench photo appeared again. The thought of Philip sitting there, alone during lunch, waiting for him made Peter’s chest ache.

 

[Are you hurt?]

 

[Just answer my call.]

 

[Did I mess up that bad? Your f*cking brother was the one who barged into my house without permission that day.]

 

[……Sorry for cursing.]

 

[How long are you going to ignore me?]

 

[Please pick up.]

 

[Are you doing this on purpose? To drive me insane?]

 

[You’re not hurt, are you?]

 

[Just read the message at least. You don’t even have to call.]

 

Dozens of similar messages followed. Peter’s face darkened as he read each one. He had expected Philip to care and be concerned, but he hadn’t expected it to this extent. Peter’s hand, scrolling down the messages, suddenly stopped.

 

[Do you hate me?]

 

A message sent at 4 a.m.

 

‘Can I ask you just one thing?’

 

‘…Yes.’

 

‘Do you hate me now?’

 

Philip’s voice when he’d asked echoed in his mind. Back then, he didn’t understand what Philip meant. 

 

How could he possibly think I’d hate him, how… how could I ever hate you?

 

[If I messed up somewhere, just tell me. I’m asking because I really don’t know.]

 

That was the last message.

 

The phrase ‘I’m really asking because I don’t know’ particularly lingered in his mind.

 

‘Maybe the reason you like me is because you don’t actually know much about me.’

 

Star quarterback. Outstanding grades, enough to earn a scholarship. A rich kid who lived in a huge mansion and drove a sports car. Popular enough to change girlfriends every week. Rumored to have been scouted several times to act in movies—these were all that anyone really knew about Philip Levin.

 

‘I might be a lot different than you think… Maybe even the worst.’

 

After thinking for a moment, Peter sent a message:

 

[Did you get home safely?]

 

The reply came:

 

[Walking. Trying to stay unseen :)]

 

Philip had a mischievous and somewhat persistent side. He was probably sending the message with a blank expression. Peter smiled slightly.

 

[What are you going to do after a shower?]

 

The reply came back immediately after Philip read it.

 

[Not sure. What about you?]

 

Peter lay on his bed, typing with his fingers.

 

[Plan to go over my assignments and contact Mr. Pullman. I’ll probably fail Geometry.]

 

Typing out that fact made him feel a bit down. A message from Philip arrived shortly afterward.

 

[If you fail, will your graduation be delayed?]

 

Peter sent two question marks, caught off guard by the sudden question.

 

[Hurry and graduate.]

 

[It’d be nice if we went to the same school.]

 

Peter sent a crying emoji in response.

 

[Why?]

 

[…I don’t think I can make it with my grades.]

 

[Hahaha. Sorry. Let’s tackle the failing subjects first.]

 

It felt like Philip was right there with him, with that habit of laughing loudly and running a hand through his hair when he was in a good mood.

 

And…

 

The way his eyes softened when he read an interesting book, the gentle chuckle he let slip when he was pleased, the low voice when he said Peter’s name.

 

‘Because I like you, that’s why. That’s why I walked all the way here, trying not to get noticed, why I did your geometry homework…’

 

The slight tremor of his fingers when he said it, the look in his eyes as though he was holding onto Peter, the way he hugged him, and… their overlapping lips.

 

These were glimpses of Philip Levin that only Peter knew.

 

Peter typed slowly with his fingers.

 

[What’s your favorite subject?]

 

Feeling a bit dissatisfied, he quickly added a few more words.

 

[Just curious!]

 

[The fact that my favorite subject is what you’re most curious about is kind of shocking.]

 

It’s not the most important thing, though…

 

The reply arrived while he was still typing.

 

[Math.]

 

Lucky him.

 

[Geometry :)]

 

“….”

 

[Don’t joke around.]

 

[Then ask something else, other than that.]

 

Peter thought for a long while and asked, What’s your favorite food? But there was no reply for a while. He lay on his bed, staring at the phone screen. Then he was startled when a video call suddenly came in, and he dropped the phone.

 

“Uh, uh…”

 

It was a video call. Peter hastily tried to smooth down his messy hair before answering.

 

<Is it really too much to ask? Is that really all you’re curious about?>

 

Philip put on a mildly annoyed expression. Peter, in a meek voice, quickly apologized.

 

“Sorry, I just….”

 

A barely stifled laugh could be heard on the other side of the phone. Philip’s phone camera shook as he burst out laughing.

 

…He’s not a little mischievous; he’s extremely mischievous.

 

Peter revised the information in his head.

 

<Ha, haha. Are you seriously curious about that?>

 

“….”

 

<Why would you be curious about something like that?>

 

“…Just because.”

 

<Favorite food, hm… water?>

 

“What? You’re joking, right?” 

 

<Nope. Water’s what I enjoy the most.>

 

Philip’s black hair ruffled lightly in the breeze. It felt like he was sneaking a glance at him, and Peter’s face started to grow warm. He mumbled, 

 

“I like drinking water too.”

 

<That’s great. We have similar tastes.>

 

“…What else do you like?” Peter asked cautiously.

 

Philip might be right. He didn’t know much about him. So, he wanted to know more. The small details that no one else would know if they weren’t paying close attention.

 

<What do you like?>

 

“Me? Oh… a lot of things.”

 

He could hear Philip’s voice, amused. 

 

<Out of all those things, I’m included, right?>

 

“Of course! No, I mean, way more than anything else…”

 

<Way more?>

 

Feigning ignorance, Philip nudged him to finish. Head bowed, Peter continued in a voice so small it sounded like he was sharing a secret that no one should overhear.

 

“…I really like you.”

 

<Good to know.>

 

With those words, Peter found the courage to lift his head.

 

<So do I.>

 

With the clear sky behind him, he looked at Peter with a gentle smile. Peter then realized that even though Philip had already arrived at his house, he was still lingering outside, talking to him.

 

His heart felt both warm and achy.

 

Philip might be much different than he’d thought. Perhaps he would never fully understand him. But there was one thing he was certain of.

 

“Hey, you know…”

 

The more he saw those little, seemingly trivial parts of Philip that others didn’t know, the more he grew to like him.

 

Lying on his bed, Peter kept up the easy, unremarkable conversation, laughing several times at the sound of Philip’s laughter.

 

The thick greenery spread over the rain-drenched garden.

 

Summer had arrived.

 

Bonus track end.