presumably its owner, a young man who looks to be about the same age as himself, sitting quietly on the windowsill. The tall windows look out over the hills surrounding the estate, spotted randomly with barren trees, and Chanyeol observes the other as he hums quietly to himself, doodling random animal shapes in the spots of condensation that he blows onto the glass. The mysterious boy still hasn’t noticed his presence and Chanyeol’s about to open his mouth to speak, not wanting to be rude, when something tickles his nose and he sneezes loudly – the sound ricocheting of the blank walls, bouncing off in faint echoes