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Chapter Seven: Lee Yongsoo

Finally, I thought, after-school class is over… With slow, gentle steps, I walk up to a desolated window upon the sunlit halls, so bright and tinted with deep yellow that my eyes had barely been able to handle it. I leant upon the hard sill of the window, eyes resting upon what seemed as though the back of the school.

The football field had been glistening within the frozen cold sunlight who glimmered so brightly even when it had set below the horizon. Moisture had filled the air so immensely; it seemed as though it’d just rained. The P.E block was right below me, and I was sure of that because of the constant screams of commands that could barely be audible to the ear.

Couldn’t they make thicker floors?

Nevertheless, the sounds had been blocked out right as my eyes had laid upon Wook-jin, who’d been downstairs playing basketball for some very absolute reason. Rather, he’d seemed to remain there for the fun of it than wanting to play. He’d been accompanied by 3 6th Formers. I’d known them since I’d joined back in Year 7, yet they’d never seemed to speak so often to me.

Though they were tall – an incredibly important factor when playing basketball – they weren’t all too good at it. Many of the shots were either missed, or they just managed to throw it all the way to the edge of the court. Still, it was quite an enjoyable game to watch, even though it was one of the worst as well.

The game had begun as aimless, rather. The ball was directionless, passing just so utterly horrible. They ran frantically, no accurate sense of what they’d seemed to be doing. As I watched, I’d also been confused. Nothing had made much sense overall.

Just as the c****x had been lessened, there had finally been a shot made. I watched as the ball had flown through the sky, then into the basket. For such a shot to had been done, it would’ve taken a miracle by this very point, for they had been playing much too long.

Their cheers, so gleeful and bright, could be heard from downstairs, even though I had been stood upon the 3rd floor rather than ground. My hands had seemed to grow a mind of their own, and I hadn’t realized I’d been gliding my pencil along the rough cartridge paper of my sketchbook.

With such unclear detail, more of a scribble rather, I realize my unclear scribble had been a figure, a person more rather. Wook-jin. For obvious reasons it had been him whom I drew, yet still remaining so visually unrealistic.

I gaze upon the horrible curves of the drawing for a long, long moment. I pick up the pencil once more, sliding it between my index and thumb. With slow, precise moves, I drew out the curves of his body, the waves of his hair, the coal grey of his inquisitive eyes, the light blush against his cheeks when our skin would graze upon each other, the sweet smile that plays on his lips every time we see each other.

Though inaccurate and scribbled, with such attention to be put on this very picture, such a bare image could possibly be imagined.

My gaze, so slowly shifting back to the tinted glass of our school windows. Amidst their such gleeful cheers, so bright and warm, those eyes of Wook-jin’s had rested upon mine, leaving me so charmed with his dashing look.

His smile, so delicate to the eye I swear, with pupils glistening against the dimmed light of the sun, who’d been set just below the very horizon. His beauty, hypnotizing me with all my faith, so irresistible I could’ve passed out. How his sweat dripped across his neck so fragilely as though were drops of gold. Or the slow pace of his chest going up and down to catch his breath.

He raised a hand into the air, waving it so gently as he greeted me with that sweet grin perked on his lips. I’d never seen him so absolutely happy before, yet it had still been a sight I could look at for so long. Upon the very sight of him, the thrill in my heart had took action, thumping through my chest as though it was about to burst out.

I turned around and hid myself behind the walls beside me, agitation present throughout my body and limbs. Breaths heavy and I clutched my chest so tightly, I thought I were going to suffocate.

Why am I like this? I thought, it was just a glance. I then hear the quiet footsteps from a group of students in the distance, each step become louder one by one. “Step, step, step…” I knew they were headed for me; it somehow just became an instinct…well, more like a talent, rather? I wouldn’t say that I know much on how I can put it, but all I can tell you was that I was rather used to things like this.

Of course, it was Pil-do. It just had to be him. Who else would it be? His steps were strong and heavy with every step he took, yet I still didn’t seem to be phased. So what if I were about to get stroke right at the face with his fist again? It’s nothing at this point.

“Hey guys, look,” he said as he struck a finger at me. “seems like our little Yongsoo decided to stay over late today.” He strode over to me, lifting my head up by my chin with a cocky smirk perked on his lips. “May I ask why you’re here?”

I don’t answer – of course I don’t

I never answer – why must I answer?

He drops the hand which held my head up, yet his smirk was still there, playing horribly on his lips like a sick tune of a song. His gaze draws itself towards my hands, which had still been grasping my sketch book. My grip was tight. Tight to the extent where my knuckles started turning white. “What’s that?” he asked. Somehow, he manages to snatch the book straight out of my hands, looking through each and every drawing I made.

He snickers, looking at my most recent drawing. “Guys, look at this,” he said as he faced the book to his other friends, “Looks like Yongsoo’s got a crush ~” His smile disappeared, and he looks back at me, seeming both agitated and repulsed. “But really though, what kind of s**t even is this?” He hits me on the head with the book and I yank it back from him.

“Just leave me alone you f*****g asshole,” I said to myself in a hushed voice. I was to walk away from them, yet I still heard him say something underneath his breath.

“Oh, so scary.” He then walks back up to me from behind and grabs me by my shoulder, leaving me stood right in front of him. He held me from my collar and his eyes were full of wrath the more he looked down on me. “Now listen here, you little b***h. You are no one to call me a f*****g asshole. So say that again, and it’s over for you.”

I gazed up at him with empty eyes, not even daring to speak. I lay a hand on his wrist and push his arm that held me up back down. “You dare lay your filthy hands on me?” I ask sarcastically.

He grabs me again, this time a much more wrath filled expression filling his face. “I do what I want to do,” he said, his voice gritty and agitated. I push him away.

“I told you already,” I said in an emotionless voice, “leave me alone you f*****g asshole!” Immediately, I walk away and rush downstairs. He was definitely going to come for me at some point, yet I just couldn’t deal with his bullshit anymore. I don’t care what he wants to do. Let him do it.

He wants to kill me?

Fine. I. Don’t. f*****g. Care.

I ran down the stairs, not even minding who I passed by. Yet by the time I reached the first landing, I bump into someone anonymous. The collision caused me to drop my sketch book onto the ground, my picture of Wook-jin exactly facing the front. s**t, I thought. I wasn’t expecting to meet him; not this soon, at least.

I was about to pick the sketch book back up, yet his hand managed to get there first. It glided against mine as he picked it up off the ground. His gaze was slowly drawn to mine, and our eyes met in an instant. It was Wook-jin. A look of worry had filled his expression, yet I just couldn’t tell why. I wanted to ask him, but I was in a hurry to get to the entrance.

Immediately, I looked away in the speed it took for our eyes to meet and ran downstairs to the main gate. “Yongsoo!” he shouted from the first landing. He was following me down, and I could hear the squeak that his shoes made when they whispered against the waxed floors of the school. Honestly, I don’t even think he was just following me. He was chasing me, almost. Was I going too fast? Was I too panicked?

I stop at the gate, my breaths heavy and empty. I couldn’t breathe at that point, and sweat started dripping from my neck. My drawing was still intact, yet the only thought that’d been repeating over and over against in my head was the fact that Wook-jin might’ve seen it. He might’ve seen the drawing I made of him. And that’s just embarrassing. I never wanted him to see it. And if I did, I would’ve preferred if it were in a better situation.

In the distance, I could still hear his footsteps chasing after me, yet it’s pace started becoming slower and slower the closer it got. The sound also became louder. Much louder, in fact. When it stops, I feel his hand laid on my shoulder, gently grasping it as he catches his breath back. “Yongsoo!” he said through heavy breaths.

Slowly, I turn around. There he was, standing there beautifully as ever like he always is. Though he seemed like much of a mess, he was still flawless, and in fact…he looked much hotter than he normally is. “W-Wook-jin…” I muttered to myself.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I nod, but just ever so slightly. He lets out a sigh of relief and, with a gentle tug, he pulls me close by my wrist, slowly wrapping his arms around me. “Thank God you are…” he said in a hushed voice, “I got scared that those bullies did something to you…”

His voice sounded weak and pitiful, and I couldn’t help but just bury my face in his arms and feel bad. I felt bad that he had to run all this way just to see if I was alright. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to at all, in fact. And we just stayed like that for a while, not even daring to utter a word.

His body was warm throughout the cold air that surrounded us, hands grasping my shoulders so tightly with those strong fingers. Our silence had been so inevitably loud and I wished it would stop. Yet every time I tried to utter a word, nothing had came out, like all the words in my head had been unable to reach my throat.

He pulled away, gazing straight into my eyes for a while. He raised those hands up to my cheeks, fingertips so delicate and whispery against my skin. Those gentle hands cleared off the hair upon my eyes who covered them whole, tucking them behind my ear. And there he laid his hand upon my cheeks, coal grey eyes laid on mine with such intent as though unforgettable.

“Shall we go back home now?” he said, that deep voice so gentle and sweet as he spoke so eloquently.

“Yeah,” I quietly uttered.

. . .

We both sat in our usual spot on the bus, my head laid on his shoulder while we make very little progress on the road because of traffic. My eyes were shut, and the sudden stops of the bus were, yes, annoying, yet were still soothing as the same time. It’d felt as though you were in a cradle and were being rocked to sleep my the gentle arms of your mother.

“You tired?” Wook-jin asked, gently caressing the top of my head.

“Yeah,” I mutter. He then pulls out his phone and earbuds, handing one of them to me.

“You wanna listen to some music?” he asked. Yet without answering, I take an earbud from his hand and placed in his my ear. Music had already started playing, it was just paused for a while. He musters a laugh as he places one of the headphones in his ears, looking nowhere but forward and only forward.

honeymoon by brb. started playing through the speakers, the gentle voice of singer putting me into a light sleep. I still don’t want to go back home. I would prefer if I stayed here with Wook-jin until the morning. I think I really, really like him; love him, actually.