Chasing You

Chapter Twenty Four

The Sun

Ah Reum stood still, a forlorn expression on her snow, white face. She looked rather immersed in thought as if nothing could disrupt her train of thoughts.

Sehun could only gaze at her. He’d waved his hand in front of her face numerous times, but she hadn’t stirred. It seemed to him that she had a truckload amount of questions to ask him but no determination to do so.

It was rather ironic. The last time he’d seen her have that same expression was when their lives were turned upside down. He found it hard to see her beaming face every day after witnessing that terrible sight. It was vexatious even. Sehun didn’t know how Ah Reum could bring herself to smile when she’d done such a horrid thing to herself. Every time she smiled at him, it would bring joy to him but also misfortune.

“Oh, sorry. Was I spacing out?” she worriedly asked, finally staring at him.

He shook his head, glad that the pained look on her face was gone. “It’s fine. We can stay here all day if that’s what you want.”

Ah Reum laughed. “No, silly! You have a birthday party to get to,” she reminded. Ah Reum continued to scold him about why he should be there, what time it started, and what to expect. There wasn’t much to expect actually; it was the same as always: a casual party. He looked forward to it nonetheless as it was Ah Reum who was managing it.

Sehun merely smiled, no longer paying attention to her incessant rambling. He had the sudden urge to envelop her in his arms and stay like that for as long as forever, but he stopped himself and put distance between them. Ah Reum didn’t say anything, but he knew that she knew.

Sehun’s bright and breezy expression came into her view, but in her mind, was everything but him.

Here she was standing in front of him, the one she solely entrusted these past few years, the one who supported her through everything–the one who hid everything from her.

Ah Reum did not feel any hostility towards him. She figured that Sehun had a reason for hiding their ambiguous past from her. He had a justification for everything he did. A good example would be that he did not want her coming inside his room because as he often said, “Best friends don’t do irrational things like that.” Of course, she ignored his argumentation and entered anyhow because as she always contended, “That’s the beauty of our friendship.”

Now that Ah Reum thought about it, their friendship was quite puzzling in many ways. The boy told her he doesn’t fancy her, yet he continues to stay with her. He said he would never fall in love with her, yet he gets insecure whenever she talks about Yixing and other boys. It’s a wonder to her why boys never approach her. She never questioned it, though.

“What’s up with that sour reaction?” Sehun bitterly commented as the corners of his lips slanted downward. He waved his hand in front of her to get her attention, but she still did not budge.

She smiled; it seemed so strained. “What do you mean? It’s beautiful, Sehun. I mean it.”

Sehun scoffed in disapproval. Ah Reum was clearly bluffing. “How supportive,” he countered sardonically. “I haven’t even shown you the last piece, and yet you’re already losing focus.”

“Trust me. I’m not,” she mumbled.

That was a lie; she was thinking about other things. More important than his exhibit? No, but important nonetheless.

“Right,” he retorted.

The fact that Sehun hid it all from her made Ah Reum feel as if their ten years of friendship were in vain; she told him everything, after all, even the unpleasant feelings and thoughts that aded her mind. When it came to Sehun, his responses were always obscure, and sometimes, he would evade the issue.

She wondered if he’d finally answer her inquiries. It was the end after all; she just needed to know. The mystery of their past had been killing her since a week ago, and if someone knew anything, it would be Sehun.

“Sehun.”

She softly whispered his name as if it was a beautiful hymn. Her mellow voice caught him off guard; he’d never heard her speak like that before. She was looking at him so tenderly–so lovingly–he almost melted in her gaze.

Sehun nearly blurted out his true feelings, but he stopped himself for the hundredth time. What was the point in confessing when he already knows that he’ll be the one grieving in the end?

He had two choices, and he chose the latter. Why would he risk their friendship for a passing love that will end as soon as it starts? He esteemed her to the point that he considered her smile as a work of art that should be displayed in each and every one of Seoul’s large museums, but he grew worried about others coming across her smile and ultimately falling in love with her, so he hid it and secured it for himself.

Lamentably, he did not hide it too well as Ah Reum started to gain admirers herself.

One incident was in the eighth grade. He chased away two of Ah Reum’s admirers, to which she had no knowledge of, or perhaps she did, but even so, she chose not to say anything about it. One of them was Jongdae, and the other was Byun Baekhyun. Jongdae was not much of a challenge, but Baekhyun was Ah Reum’s first kiss. How did he manage to do it? No one knew.

Baekhyun, ever since he arrived at their school in the sixth grade, strived to take away Sehun’s rightful position as Ah Reum’s best friend. Sehun gave him manifold reasons as to why being her best friend was such a bad idea, but the boy, instead of listening to Sehun’s wise words of advice, followed his foolish heart and got nowhere.

Ah Reum was far too oblivious. She’d told her friends before that she’d like it if a guy confessed to her while playing the guitar, but poor Baekhyun’s confession was interpreted as a mere show.

Fortunately for Sehun, the summer of their eighth year he moved away. Although he gave Sehun quite a headache when they were in the same school, Byun Baekhyun was not his biggest rival–Zhang Jiashuai was. Though he changed his name to Yixing, Sehun was not going to be fooled.

The mere mention of his name made Sehun’s blood boil. If Ah Reum had not met Yixing, she might’ve never resorted to such an insane decision. He saw the way the snow piled atop her motionless body; she was almost camouflaged under that pile of snow, yet what it was unable to do was conceal the red pool that inundated her.

Looking at her now, it’s hard for Sehun to grasp the fact that she’s here, she’s safe, and that she’s not going anywhere.

“What is it?” he questioned, eyes looking straight at her still form.

Ah Reum breathed slowly, gathering the remaining courage inside of her to do it–to end it. “Do you ever sometimes think of what would have happened if we were both just honest with each other from the start?”

Sehun gazed at her confusedly. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she muttered. “Can I hug you?”

Sehun hated it when she did that. She’d say one thing, then act as if she never had, but that’s what was so unique about her. She was no dictionary; she was her own encyclopedia, utterly inconstant.

Even so, he was bewildered. When did Ah Reum ever ask him if she could do something? Ever since they met, she’d don