Chapter 2

02

Peter's currently sitting on his bed while reading a book. He's entertaining himself at the same time thinking if he should follow Rave's opinion.

"Go try befriending him. He looks like a good guy."

Peter sighed at that. He really do but good guys scares me, Peter thought. He's not really into befriending with good guys since he knew that he can't return the treatment. He's not rude and he's not good—he's in the middle, as what he presumed. He's not interested with the rude ones either, in short, he's not befriending with anyone just for the sake of bond or entertainment.

Rave's enough for him to count as a friend which he really can trust, who knows him well and who he knows well too. The others are counted as acquaintances, colleagues or something that's not close to being a friend.

Peter was disrupted by his analytical thinking when he heard footsteps from the other side of the wall. His ears twitched, alarmed at the noise. His heart started beating fast for unknown reason. He's nervous.

It's already 8 in the evening and without much thinking, Peter sprung from his bed. He wore his slippers and grabbed the food he placed on a container. It's a pasta he made for the both of them—Rave and him. There are still leftovers, so to follow Rave’s suggestion, he decided to share it to his neighbour.

What was his name again? West? Right. It's easy to remember his name. Good thanks.

Peter shut the door of his own room and stood straight in front of the door beside his. He's mentally practicing on how to knock and approached the guy.

Hi! I made a pasta for you—no. That sounds weird.

Hi! I still have pasta left so I’ll give it to you—damn. It sounds offensive or somewhere near that.

Hey, I made a pasta so I want to share it with you and also as a welcoming—fuck. I am the newcomer so I am the one who should receive a welcoming not the other way around.

Peter was internally struggling. He didn't think that it could be this hard to give a food to someone. He's in between giving it and going back to his room, giving up on befriending West. It doesn't really matter afterall, right? What change could it give?

He was about to turn around and walk back inside his room when the door in front swung open. He stilled at his place when he met the most tantalizing pair of deep blue eyes he had ever seen. He wasn't able to see it a while ago as he was to shy to even lift his face to meet the gaze of West. And now, he regrets not doing it. He was dumbstruck at how fascinating to look at West's eyes are. He's so near at mouthing a wow but fortunately pulled himself on the embarrassment.

"Hey, Peter right?" West deep and calm voice lingered on Peter's ear. Oblivious that the taller man's secretly holding himself to chuckle at how cute the way Peter stared at him with gaped mouth. It's cute, he admit it. "You’re the new tenant? From earlier, right?" asked West.

Peter went back to himself and nodded. He blinked his eyes and gulped, calming himself at the overwhelming emotion he felt. What was it?

West was secretly disappointed as he didn't received a verbal answer from Peter. It was just a nod. As much as how cute Peter is when he nod his head, West wanted to hear him speak. He wanted to hear his voice.

West's gaze dropped on the food container Peter's holding.

"What's that?" he asked with slightly knitted eyebrows. He stiffened when he heard a faint voice coming from Peter. He was unable to understand or hear it clear. "Come again?"

"P-Pasta."

West stilled at his place. His mouth gaped on what he heard. He feels like blushing. It feels like the situation turns the other way around. All he could think was the smaller boy's voice. It was calm. Soft. Monotone yet weirdly soothing to hear.

"I made it and there's too many so I decided to s-share it, if you don't mind." West went back to his attention and listened to Peter, at ease because of his voice. "Rave wanted me to befriend you, he suggested this."

He's so honest.

Peter's honesty—which should turn out offending—gained a small laugh from West.

"That's so honest. I don’t know who should I thanks, you or Rave."

Peter slightly turned his head on his side, showing confusion. West pursed his lips to stop himself from smiling. Peter's just too adorable for him.

"You don't need to say thank you. And I'm confused to why did you laugh. Here." Peter handed the container that contains the pasta which the latter gladly accepted. "You can return the container tomorrow," he added.

"Don't you want to come in?" West asked, looking slightly forward on talking with Peter longer.

Peter's eyes peeked inside then shook his head.

"No. I still have something else to do," he refused. West hid the disappointment on his face. He can't force Peter to go, he don't want to appear bad to him or weird.

"Okay then. Thanks for the pasta," West said, smiling widely.

"Y-Yeah," Peter answered, shyness forced hidden after seeing the taller man's smile again. They're just so attractive at how they go along well with his pair of dimples.

"It's nice meeting you, Peter."

Peter felt strange at how West uttered his name. He can't explain it. He's embarrassingly stupid at knowing what was it.

"You too, West. Nice...meeting you."

Later on that night, West was wide awake. He's leaning on his wall, silently listening to the other side while sipping on his milk drink. He's hopeful. Hopeful that the smaller boy—Peter—will take his guitar, lean on the wall and sing once again. He wanted to know if it'll have the same effect on him just like last night. He wanted to find out to satisfy himself on needing to hear Peter's voice again while singing.

But he ended up feeling disappointed .

He heard a squeaking sound of a bed and that for sure was Peter laying, preparing himself to sleep. West waited longer but nothing happened.

In the end, he lie on his bed flat, eyes are half opened, unable to put himself to sleep, remembering all the things that happened the whole day with the hope of not forgetting anything about it.

—

"Peter!"

Peter halted in the middle of the hallway just to turn around to see who called his name. He was met by the running figure of his friend—Rave.

Rave was catching his breath but with a smile, he tapped Peter's shoulders that made the latter stare at him in confusion.

"Did you went to the music room?" Rave asked.

Peter shook his head. "Why?"

Rave put his arm on Peter's shoulder and they both continued walking.

"West was there." Peter stiffened after hearing West's name. He immediately regained himself and asked his friend, trying to act composed.

"And?" he asked, acting as if he's not interested. Well, the truth is, he's kind of interested to know as why West was seen there. Is he studying here? What department? What grade? That's just the questions that Peter thought but doesn't want to ask about it.

"He's looking for you." That made Peter stop walking. His forehead creased at Rave who's staring at him.

"Why?" he asked in a low voice.

Rave shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. He already left when I went there. Pepper’s the one who told me."

Peter fell into thinking of why West was looking for him. Does he need anything?

Oh wait, maybe he wanted to return the food container?

It was the only reason Peter could think as to why West wanted to see him—looking for him rather.

Peter remained silent and decided to not talk about West with Rave. They both head to their next classes until the day ended.

Peter was alone as he walked his way towards the exit to return home. His apartment's just a few blocks away from school so he decided to walk his way there. He doesn't have a car or a motorcycle, it's not like he knows how to drive one though. He could grab a taxi or ride a bus but he doesn't want to hassle himself on that.

With his guitar on his back, Peter's holding tight on the strap on it. He didn't throw a glance on some student he walked pass by until he's already outside the campus.

Peter was just walking silently, eyes not focused in front as he constantly look down and watched his steps. He's not thinking about certain things, he's like thinking but about nothing in particular. He's spacing out, lost on his own world.

That was why he was oblivious of the car running fast his side. Just before the car will caught him, a hand sneaked on his waist turning him around, pulling him away from the road until the car’s away.

Peter looked shocked, eyes are wide as he stared in horror of the now blurry car. What happened is still processing on his mind.

"Are you okay?"

Peter raised his head to see the man who saved him and at that moment, it happened once again. Those deep blue tantalizing eyes are looking down at him with full of concern and worry. His heart's beating fast and he thought that it's because of what happened earlier.

He pulled himself away from West before he nodded in response. The nice smell of West stayed on his nose and it was so good.

"T-Thank you," said Peter.