“This is so freaking cold, Noah'' Oliver complains as they sit on the mattress over the neatly cut green grass. The small park right on the side of the river has been cramped with people who are already swarming, waiting for the first snow and fireworks to perform in minutes. The peak of the festival and the end of the once-a-year event seem like something that can’t be missed. If the pathways and food street vendors are already bustling, the park is overflowing, safe to assume the whole city is coming purposely for the fireworks.

Oliver still hasn’t understood why people are so invested in watching something they can search on YouTube. “Why the hell do people sit on the freezing grass just to watch fireworks? I’m going to feel pins and needles in my butt soon,” he grumbles under his breath.

Everyone wearing the same excited and blithesome face, talking and laughing to their families and companions, forgetting the fact that they keep rubbing their hands and blowing breath to warm them up. Their reaction may be different if they come alone, though. Fascinating to see someone's presence can defy human nature to feel cold.

This is the second firework he is going to see this year after well–the night at Taylor’s exhibition that he barely remembers since he was too distracted back then. But this time he is with Noah and seemingly they will appreciate the scenery. Noah looks so excited as soon as they arrive. He keeps talking about his childhood memory of watching fireworks with his father now and then. Frankly, Oliver feels flattered to know Noah lets him experience such a precious memory he used to have with his father together.

“…So I’ve read this somewhere, that it’s human nature to be attracted to bright and shiny things. And in fireworks, the anticipation for the explosion and the booming sounds activate the little ball of nerves inside our brain that detects fear. But then when our brain prepares for a threat but what we see next is the sky ablaze with twinkling lights, the sense of relief added with the beautiful view gives us a surge of dopamine – a chemical that regulates pleasure. Even something that we fear can generate glee” Noah stares up at the still plain black sky.

Oliver watches his side profile, noticing even the reflection of the blank, dull sky looks starry in Noah’s expectant eyes. “Hmmm…I think I understand the feeling. Like when getting a box of random chocolates, every bite makes you nervous but also a pleasure when you get one that you like?”

Noah smiles tenderly. “Imagine if you can combine pleasure from watching fireworks and eating a box of random chocolates. Oh! Can you make one? The sparkling chocolate that will pop in the mouth like fireworks? I think it will be a famous dish!”

Oliver raises his brows, surprised. But quickly grabs his phone to type short on the note. “At least you throw me a bone after making me suffer”, Oliver squints his eyes playfully.

Noah laughs, “I wish you don’t resent me after this, Olly”

Oliver crooks a smile, “If I resent you I will be hated by my disloyal co-workers, they will be siding on you for sure”, then he grimaces with a comical glare which supposed to threaten Noah, “But seriously, I contemplating to pounce on you right now but my hands are already numb, once I regain my power you should prepare yourself!” Oliver balls his fist as if that hand customised for decorating a cake can actually hurt someone.

Noah just chuckles, casually grabs Oliver’s balled fist, and cups it with his own hand to blow hot air from his mouth, warming Oliver’s freezing hand. 

Noah doesn't think much about that since he is too excited waiting for the fireworks to start. “Hang in there, Olly. They’ll start in a few minutes,” he says briefly before returning to do his best effort to keep Oliver’s hands warm.

Oliver doesn’t mind anymore. Some part of him hopes the fireworks won’t start soon.

Noah ends up tucking one of Oliver’s hands inside his coat pocket to keep him warm while intertwining their fingers together. Noah’s hand is surprisingly smaller and his fingers are shorter, but strangely warmer than Oliver’s. It fits perfectly with his. Oliver looks at him silently, a little startled by his sudden brave gesture, but once again he doesn’t mind.

He is just wondering what makes Noah so bold tonight. His face remains unfazed, straight looking to the front with a pinkish tint on his cheeks that he can’t tell whether caused by the cold or something else, but either way, Noah looks good with it.

At some moment, Oliver notices a few people looking at them while murmuring something to each other. They probably recognise Noah, maybe they use his perfume or perhaps they just ever saw him on the billboard ads. Noah seems to notice it either, Oliver waits for him if he wants to let go of his hand because people are watching him, but Noah never did that, he even tucks it deeper into his pocket but still keeps his grips loose, giving Oliver’s a room to withdraw if he wants. “Tell me if you feel uncomfortable,” Noah looks at him through his long lashes, smiling softly under the hue of the yellowish neon lamp near them.

Oliver just hums and smiles briefly. He doesn’t know showing public affection will feel like this, thrilling but nice. Fear that generates glee - as Noah said.

Now Oliver completely understands how these people around him are capable of bearing such wintry degrees. How their body reactions can defy nature. Oliver doesn’t feel cold anymore. Their intertwined fingers ignite something that he has never known could be set ablaze within him, a simmering warm swirling pleasantly on his stomach, creeping to his chest that tightens with the affection, a jittery sensation when Noah brushes his thumb on Oliver’s knuckle softly, albeit with a hint of sheepishness that makes it even more endearing.

They say nothing, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. Relishing each other's company and the warm feeling that radiates from each other's presence. It feels wonderful; it feels right.

“Noah,” Oliver calls and he can feel Noah’s body a little tense. Maybe he thought Oliver would ask him to let his hand go, so Oliver immediately continues “Have you come to this festival often?” he wonders, if he grows up around this neighbourhood, the Han river should hold a lot of memory for Noah.

Noah relaxes again, “Not really. I don’t have many friends. My close friends mostly don’t like this kind of stuff – you know enjoying fireworks in cold weather is not for everyone,” he chuckles and Oliver can relate “Taylor sometimes couldn’t come with me as well. Either his mother wouldn’t let him out or he had another plan that he wouldn’t tell me what. Sometimes I feel he had so many secrets – but I guess I know one of them now” Noah lifts his head and Oliver turns his head to look at Noah smiling sweetly at him.

Something weird grows inside Oliver’s heart, a suffocating feeling like he bears a brick on his chest–he feels guilty. Even more surprising is that the feeling isn't directed at Taylor - his boyfriend.

 But the guilt is for Noah.

Oliver doesn’t know how many times Taylor probably had to lie to Noah or refuse to hang out with him so they could meet each other. How many times Noah should feel lonely because his best friend chose his secret boyfriend over him?

Oliver is not fond of the idea of someone feeling sorry for Noah. Noah is an admirable individual. He shouldn’t be pitied. But this time Oliver can’t help but feel sorry— he deprived Noah of his friendship with Taylor.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispers. He thinks he just needs to apologise.

Noah giggles, tickling Oliver’s palm playfully. “Silly, what are you apologising for?”

“Just because,” Oliver shrugs. “It never feels nice for knowing someone so close to you hide a big secret from you when you always tell every little thing to them”

Noah smiles wistfully as if he confirms Oliver’s prediction without actually saying anything. “Everyone deserves to be happy. But their ways to pursue that happiness just happened to be different from everyone else.” Noah holds Oliver’s gaze firmly and searches for something within those wide constellations. “Olly, are you happy?”

Oliver is taken aback by the question. He stares at Noah’s eyes that appear even darker in colour. Makes any ocean that exists appear shallow. Following where his pupils go, Oliver drowns in him.

Does Oliver ever feel happier than now? He asks himself.

Since when Noah’s visit to the bakery feels so natural? Oliver thought it was natural to anticipate his presence, just like his other co-workers.

However, were the others also hoping Noah to stay longer while eating his breakfast there? Did Jonah also feel this weird sensation when something swells in his heart when Noah praises his cake? Or did Evie also feel something within her melted and gooey like heated chocolate whenever Noah sees her with his sparkling eyes?

Or Oliver was the only one who felt that way?

Was it just Oliver who thinks Noah’s complaints and grumbles when he’s being impatient is cute?

Was it just him who notices Noah’s blushing cheeks when they stare at each other for too long?

Or Noah’s stuttering habit when Oliver praises him out of the blue so he gets the urge to praise often just to see his reaction.

Was Oliver the only one who was fond of those small gestures since Noah only shows that in front of him?

Oliver isn't blind. He knows Noah’s regular visit to his bakery is not actually just for a simple breakfast; he knew what Noah felt toward him since they met in the exhibition for the first time.

Noah is easy to read, and it gives Oliver a sense of reassurance since he has been fed off by a complicated mess. He likes the simplicity and straightforwardness of Noah’s gestures.

He likes how he can see Noah’s feeling as clear as calm water; Oliver likes how good Noah is at expressing his carefreeness and how it is contagious to others. He also likes how bad Noah is hiding his disappointment and concern.

It puts Oliver at ease since he doesn’t need to guess and assume the intricacy of the human mind as he used to.

With Noah, Oliver feels like he can breathe and be himself. The anxious feeling of the uncertainty gone, shifts with anticipation of coming next; What silly story Noah would tell tomorrow in the bakery? What cheesy joke would he banter with Jonah? Or what petty problem he would bicker with Evie?

Oliver may rarely join the furore, but he always listens and it’s enough to make him smile even until he’s ready to go to bed and end the day.

Are those frivolous things also considered happiness?

How come Oliver never realised being happy was as simple as that?

No need to conquer the world and fight against the entire universe for the sake of love so he can live happily ever after.

He still can find happiness in every simplicity; in a bite of blueberry muffin, in a sip of warm instant coffee on a freezing day, or in knowing he has someone who will fight the cold for him just to make him feel better.

So if Noah asks if he’s happy right now?

Oliver doesn’t need to ponder the answer since he can see his face reflected in Noah’s eyes; smiling ear-to-ear like a bewitched fool. “Right now, I am”

“Glad to hear” Noah smiles at him, an enchanting smile that can draw Oliver deep into his clear eyes. His eyes are so dark yet so dazzling. Reflecting on the dark sky behind him that was slowly filled by blazing arcs of fiery sparks followed by explosion sound and cheering people around them. They are still unfazed, like time has just stopped. Watching the fireworks blossom upon the starry-black night from each other's eyes.

The fireworks are so chaotic and predictable – they will find their own time and space to explode.

Noah’s eyes shift from Oliver’s eyes to his lips, their faces are only inches apart.

Oliver knows what should happen next. He knows one of them will lean in for an imminent kiss, but Noah seems hesitant.

Oliver doesn’t budge. Instead, he says “Noah”

“Hmm?” Noah's heartbeat thumped on his chest which Oliver might be heard if not because of the firework's explosion.

Oliver’s inner self nags him to initiate the move, but his rational side keeps telling him to wait; he knows what Noah feels but does he want this?

Oliver is carried away by the ambience and can’t stop himself from touching Noah’s face. Oliver brushes his thumb on Noah’s lips with a feather-like touch. It’s soft, a bit cold but not as cold as his hand, they regain back the cherry colour on them. He wonders if the warm coffee earlier helps, would it taste sweet like the latte then?

 Noah needs everything inside him to not kiss his cold thumb, he isn’t that strong but he manages to resist himself and ends up pouting in Oliver’s thumb. Oliver leans closer and whispers right in his ear “There’s snow on your lips”