Project Heart - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

The days that followed felt like a dream. Like Junak was the protagonist of a film and he was living the music sequence where everything was perfect.
He wasn't sure what exactly was happening between him and Dikhou - because nothing was happening, really - but it still felt amazing. They would laugh and talk during lunches, work together in Grandma's garden, stroll around the village side by side or spend long hours doing nothing by the riverside.
Nothing seemed to have changed - they would still bicker at times and Dikhou still carried that quirky, mischievous air around him. But at the same time, it felt different. Dikhou seemed different. In a good way, of course. The best way.
For one, he babied Junak. From random reminders to drink water to teaming up with him in the games and cheering him on to teaching him fun things like flicking stones in the water. One time, he randomly gave Junak a flower he found lying in the grass and maybe Junak did a bad job at hiding his joy because Dikhou chuckled and continued to keep giving him flowers.
It was very romantic, but it made it difficult for Junak to remind himself that it might not mean what he thought it meant. Dikhou was most probably straight and even if he wasn't, nothing could ever happen. They were from very different worlds.
Dikhou first opened up about his father when they were sitting under a tree and Junak asked him what his old man was like. He hesitated at first, but seemed to relax when Junak said, "I understand if you don't want to talk to me about him." And then Dikhou told him. Stories. Dozens many of them.
His father was a kind man, mostly shy so not very popular among the people, but fiercely loyal to those he called his own. He was a forest ranger but left the job because he got sick of all the corruption. He instead returned home to work on his own fields. He taught Dikhou all he knew about the earth, just as the two spent many nights sky-gazing.
Junak took it all in, revelling in borrowed memories of a wholesome family.
Dikhou's mother was... well, scary. Junak crossed paths with her a few times and each time she had her guard up; only nodding and returning curt greetings. He could understand where her dislike stemmed from, but there was an overwhelming desire in him to make things right with her so he would always volunteer to go over to give her things - Grandma would frequently send food and vegetables and stuff - or did his best to appear polite and modest.
Dikhou had laughed fondly at him because clearly, he could see through Junak's efforts of appearing saintly. It should've made Junak irritated, to be laughed at, but over the days he had simply grown to love Dikhou's laugh. It was a beautiful sound.
And speaking of beautiful sounds, turned out Dikhou could play the flute as well. As if he could not get hotter.
"What exactly are you doing?" Dikhou asked Junak who was lying on the ground on his back. He held his phone over his head, recording the sky that was a striking shade of light blue, a few white clouds rolling across lazily.
"It's going on my Insta story."
Dikhou was sitting beside him, one leg crossed, the other bent at the knee. He was leaning back against an old tree stump. "A picture of the sky?"
"A video of the sky."
"Wow."
"Hey, people like it. Skies are very popular on Instagram."
"On Instagram?" Dikhou repeated. "If I wanted to see the sky, I would look up, not down on my phone."
"That's 'cause you're a romantic," Junak teased. He dropped the phone on his chest and tucked his arms under his head.
Dikhou was smiling down at him. "I'm not."
"You are. Trust me, I'd know." Dikhou raised a brow, making Junak wonder if he had said something he shouldn't have. Hastily, he added, "Because... I'm an artist."
"Right."
Junak watched him. He was wearing only a thin t-shirt with the sleeves folded up to his elbows as usual. He had one arm resting on his knee, carelessly holding a half-eaten berry between his fingers. Junak couldn't help eye the muscles along his forearm, wondering how they would feel under his own skin.
Fearful of getting caught, Junak rolled over on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. There, on the grass next to him, was a banana leaf that held a dozen yellow and orange berries, a pinch of salt and a long, green chilly broken in the middle. Junak picked up a berry and put it in his mouth, scrunching up his face at how sour - and yet absolutely delicious - it was.
Next to the make-shift plate was Dikhou's flute. It was a beautiful thing - made of bamboo, finely polished. There were red strips at the ends, exquisitely contrasting with the ochre of the body.
Junak picked it up and held it out towards Dikhou. "Sing something for me."
Dikhou raised a brow, smirking - it was a very hot gesture. "I don't know if you're aware but one cannot sing and play the flute at the same time."
His jabs had long stopped bothering Junak. Now they just made him giddy. "No, no, I know. This is a make-shift mic."
Dikhou looked at him incredulously.
Junak pouted, and whined, "Indulge me."
That was him pushing his luck. He did not know how else to figure out if Dikhou's affections towards him were simply brotherly or... something else.
"Okay, but keep the flute down before you break it."
"I'm not gonna-" The flute almost slipped out of his fingers but he managed to catch it. "Heh." Gently, he kept the instrument on the ground and flashed his teeth at Dikhou.
Dikhou shook his head. "What song?"
"Any song."
"No, give me something."
Junak sucked on a berry. "A Zubeen song then."
"No!" He did not even pause to consider.
"Hey." Junak pouted. "He's a great singer and a great guy."
"Sure, but I'm not singing any of his songs."
Junak randomly threw the seed of the berry over his shoulder. "Why not?"
"I-" With a start, Junak realized that Dikhou was, for some reason, flustered. "Have you ever heard any of his songs? I'm not singing them."
That Dikhou was scared to sing a romantic song was adorable beyond measure. It was also Junak's chance to torment him. "You're embarrassed to sing an overly dramatized love song?" He laughed. "Grow up."
Dikhou looked wronged and irritated and shy, all at the same time. His jaw fell open. "Oh, you want to play? Fine. I'll sing a song, we'll see who's the grown up."
"What do you mean? I'm not the one acting like," Junak waved a hand at Dikhou's face.
"Okay." Dikhou smirked, and it reminded him of the Dikhou who had pranked him all those days ago. It felt like an eternity ago. "Your funeral."
Junak's smile faltered a little. "What do you mean?"
Dikhou's grin widened. He cleared his throat and started singing, "Junake..."
Junak's face caught fire just as his heart grew cold. "Oh my god, stop."
He did not stop. The lyrics went: Junak (moonlight) came and whispered in my ear, in unyielding enigmatic words - you're mine, only mine.
"Oh my god," Junak cried as loudly and as frantically as he could to hide the obvious blush. "Stop, stop, stop." He was going to die.
Dikhou grinned and continued singing. The whole song was sickeningly romantic and Dikhou made a whole show of it, by swaying and dramatically gesturing with his arms. When the chorus came again, about junak whispering pretty possessive remarks, Dikhou put a hand over his chest and closed his eyes as if he was actually in love or something.
By the time the song ended, Junak was a mess. His face was several degrees hot, his hands were clammy and his heart was hammering so hard, he was worried Dikhou could hear it. "You're unbelievably annoying!" he cried, folding his hands over his chest and trying to keep his face away. "And Zubeen-da is such a simp, he needs help."
Dikhou laughed his quiet laugh. He leaned back on the tree stump, eyeing Junak mischievously. "You happy now?"
Junak picked a berry and threw it at him. "I hate you."
Dikhou beamed. He picked up the berry that had fallen on his lap, rubbed it between his fingers and then put it to his lips.
Junak was having trouble breathing. He actively avoided looking at Dikhou and focused instead on calming his heart. He couldn't get Dikhou's voice out of his head, especially the way he had said junak...
That he was a surprisingly good singer did not help.
"Why don't you do something with it?" Junak asked because he needed a distraction. "With your music? You're really good."
"Do something as in, make money out of it?"
Junak was still scared to look at him so he could not see his expression. "Yeah."
Dikhou was silent for a beat. "Where do you live? Art doesn't pay." There was a brief pause, then he said, "Well, it doesn't pay for people like me."
His remark was so unexpected, Junak forgot all about his embarrassment. He looked at Dikhou. "What does that mean?"
Dikhou waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing." He turned his face away and spit out the seed. "Just drop it."
"What? Tell me."
"No. I... I don't want to fight with you."
Junak sat upright, his brows near his hairline. "I want to know now."
"Jun-"
"Seriously, I won't freak."
Dikhou sighed. "It's just... you have the money and your father's business to fall back on. Like a safety net so you can take the leap of faith. Not everyone has that luxury."
Junak looked down at the grass. For the longest time, he thought he was brave to do what he wanted; that he was following his passion when so many of his friends had dropped theirs. But now, hearing Dikhou put it like this, he realized he was privileged. Not brave. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, no. Don't say that. I'm not saying it's your fault. It's not."
Another thought hit him then, when he remembered why he had the privilege and Dikhou didn't. "I'm sorry about my father."
There was a brief pause. "Jun."
His heart stumbled. He did not move.
"Jun, look at me."
It felt oddly intimate, the simple act of looking up and meeting Dikhou's gaze. It was piercing but kind.
"What happened wasn't your fault. It - it has nothing to do with us."
Junak swallowed, nodding. He was not sure he believed it though.
"And honestly, now that I think about it," Dikhou faced the sky and let out a heavy sigh, "maybe we overreacted a little."
Junak's eyes nearly popped out. "What?"
Dikhou shrugged. "Your father was my father's friend, right? My father's; not my mother's, not mine. He paid back the money, and my mother used it to properly manage what was left of our land. So what if he stopped visiting? That's something you do with friends and his friend was dead."
"Dikhou!" It sounded strange to Junak's own ears, the way he cried; accusatory and exasperated. "What are you saying?"
"Come on-"
"No!" Junak was scowling and his hands were fisted at his sides. "It was wrong! I would never do that my friend's family."
Dikhou kept his calm, despite the fact that Junak had clearly lost his. "Yes, maybe, but people are different. Circumstances are different. We don't know what might've happened."
Junak wanted to strangle him and shake sense into him. He was mad. So fucking mad. "Why are you defending him?" Dikhou was supposed to hate him for this and Junak was supposed to use it as another leverage to dislike his father. This was all wrong, what Dikhou was saying. "Why are you being like this?"
"Because," Dikhou caught Junak's gaze defiantly, "for the longest time, I had an image of you in my head. Of Junak Baruah, the kid who unfairly got everything I didn't. For all these years, I was made to dislike you without knowing a single thing about you. But look," he chuckled, stretching out a hand to point at Junak, "you're nothing like the person in my head."
"But..." Junak wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or scream. "But... I do have everything and it's unfair."
"Is it, really? Your father worked hard to get his business where it is. Why should he be shamed for it? Why should you?"
Junak opened his mouth, but could not form any coherent words. He was panting. He felt dizzy.
Dikhou smiled and it was the gentlest thing Junak had ever seen. "That night we had the bonfire? When you first arrived? You gave your cap-thingy to Pakhi because she found it exciting or whatever. You gave it to her despite the fact that you were cold."
Junak's whole body was flooded with some strange jittery sensation he could not name. "H-How do you know that?"
"Maybe I was... watching you."
Junak was sure he was going to pass out now. His body seemed to have gone into a mad state of panic and ecstasy. "You were?"
Dikhou shrugged nonchalantly but there was a hint of a smirk at the corners of his lips. "I had to make sure you weren't... you know, dangerous or something."
Was he... flirting? Junak's stomach flipped. Mustering up every ounce of courage, he said, "And what are your findings, inspector? Am I... dangerous?"
Dikhou was doing a poor attempt at fighting back his smile. "Maybe to a cockroach."
"Oh no." Junak shook his head. He felt warm. "I'm scared of cockroaches."
"Spiders?"
"Terrified."
"Butterflies?"
Junak gasped. "Why will I ever hurt a butterfly, you monster?"
Dikhou laughed. It sounded like music.
It made Junak light-headed. "You were so mean to me."
Dikhou lowered his head a little, smiling apologetically. "I know."
"You made me pass out as well."
"Which, on the bright side, got you a health checkup so it turned out to be beneficial for you - oi." Junak threw another berry at him. He picked it up and took a bite. "Treat it like a trial."
Junak's eyes were glued to Dikhou's lips playing with the berry. "A trial?"
"Yeah, to like, get closer to me."
Oh dear god, Junak was probably dreaming. "Closer to you?"
Dikhou blanched, clear that he hadn't meant to say it. "I mean, to be friends with me."
Junak smirked. "I heard closer." He wondered what would happen if he got to his knees, crawled towards Dikhou, smirking suggestively all the way, and then leaned forward and pressed his lips against -
Dikhou pulled out a handful of grass and threw it at Junak, with the soil and roots and everything.
"Hey!"
Dikhou rose to his feet, laughing. "Come on, we should head back for lunch."
Junak whined and fell back on the ground. He stared up at Dikhou. "Five more minutes."
"Jun."
He pouted.
Dikhou sighed. "I think I liked it better when you were far away," he said, returning to sit next to Junak.
"See? You did say close."
"Shut up."
Junak laughed.