Chapter 7

'Soori?'

I saw the faintest flicker of light for a moment as I heard a very familiar voice. My mother.

'Soori!'

Mom!—I wanted to call out to her so badly, but my voice was stuck in my throat. My body was as still as a block. I couldn't move. My lungs were paralyzed, yet it felt like I don't even need to be breathing to know I was in pain and suffering. Not the kind of pain that comes out as a physical symptom, but rather one that leaves a hole in my heart. I wanted to cry.

'Soori, wake up!'

"Mom! Help me!"

My inner voice was crying a plea to her own, which suddenly sounded so distant. The flickering light slowly died out, darkness filled my vision. The voice blurred, until it was muffled to incomprehensible screams and cries, until I heard no more.

"Soori!" 

Water sputtered out from my lips; and I resulted to fit of coughs that seemed endless. My throat was stinging from what used to be clogging it, preventing me from breathing. I breathed, my lungs finally expanding without restrictions. I felt warm air caressing my damp body. It felt rather colder with it.

I opened my eyes slowly, seeing this very familiar figure looming above me, his face blurred out in my vision.

"Jongin." Even my small voice sounded not like mine when I reached for the side of his face.

I felt him place his hand above mine; and suddenly colors started to paint my surroundings again, even Jongin's face was much clearer. "God, I thought I was gonna lose you too!" He hugged me to him. It only occured to me that we were both wet, our clothes sticking to us like a second skin. "You weren't breathing for 5 minutes Soo! How do you expect me to tell your mother that you died if you really did?!" And there was my nagging Jongin again.

I smiled, contented that he was himself again, without the walls he surrounded himself with. I knew I shouldn't be happy in this sort of situation, but I just couldn't help it. He saved me. I mattered to him. He believed me. And now he's hugging me like he wouldn't want to lose me. I circled my arms around his neck, indulging in his scent that is now mixed with the smell of fresh water. He smelt so good that it was addicting. I hugged him tighter, warmth radiating in between our bodies. It felt so good that I didn't care whether we were both wet, or that I was this close to him.

"Are you even listening to me?!" He pushed me away from him, parting ourselves at arms length. He had that fierce gaze in his eyes, his glasses long gone, and only I could see was his strong yet beautiful features beneath his hiding mask. "You jumped in the river even when I told you not to! What if—what if I wasn't able to save you this time?" His voice softened to a wistful one. I felt my heart sink, understanding what he meant. I could have really died this time. And I would stop seeing him.

I raised my hand to touch his cheek, he stiffened, seemingly stunned with the gesture even I was confused why I was doing. But it just felt so right, so nice to touch his smooth skin. He felt so real.

"I'm sorry." I uttered out softly, drinking in everything I could see; his face, the hairs sticking to his forehead, his pink, plump and dampened lips, his pink cheeks, his eyes that were a pool of obsidian; deep and black, his now reddish nose. Why have I only noticed these things now? "Has anyone ever told you Jongin? You look beautiful without those glasses." I blurted out, filter long gone in my mouth.

He pulled away, and as if on cue he patted his face to find his glasses. But then they were nowhere. Jongin stood up, searching for them. It's as if he hadn't even heard me. He looked around, near the river, around the spot near us. But when he saw no signs of it, he sighed loudly, giving me a look.

"I lost them." He said dejectedly. 

I felt really bad this time. He needed those glasses since he had astigmatism. "Sorry... You lost them because of me." It must have fallen in the water when he came to my rescue.

However, he didn't look even angry as he shrugged. "I can just ask mom to buy me another pair later on." He said.

I felt even more sorry. Now his mother would even have to spend money for it when it was my fault he lost his glasses. I bit on my lip, thinking of another way to get him a new pair of glasses without burdening anyone else. "How about I buy you a new one?"

He seemed suddenly amused, his lips slightly rising at my offer. "Don't worry. I still have my contacts with me." He said, shaking his head.

"Eh?" I was surprised. I have never seen him in his contact lenses. I don't even have an idea that he had them. "How did you even... All this time you kept wearing those geek glasses—"

"I was just more comfortable wearing my glasses. They are easier to use." He said, cutting me off. I nodded, unsure of whether I really understood what he said. Then before I even knew it, he had his hand already clasped around mine. I felt myself blush so suddenly. "Let's go home."

He pulled me behind him, our moist hands sliding against each other, and mine slipping out from his. He would tug on my hand tighter every time it would slide away, and I'd smile wider as we went on. A trail of water formed behind us as it dripped from our clothes to the ground. People gave us strange looks but Jongin was, strangely enough, unfazed by them that I just went along feeling slightly braver.

Mom greeted us by the door when we arrived home. "Goodness! What happened to you guys?!" She exclaimed, utterly worried upon seeing us so wet all over.

I was about to admit that it was my fault but then Jongin already had an excuse, "We played in the river and lost track of time." Mom's worry flushed out of her face and she seemed to buy his reason.

"Well, come in you two. You don't want to get sick! Especially you!" Mom pinched my side, I yelped in pain.

"That hurt, mom!" I hissed, annoyed that she doesn't mind hurting me in front of others, on top of that my best friend.

We only let go of the hold we had of each other's hands when mom pushed me up the stairs and told me to change out of my wet clothes, while she offered Jongin to dry up too and change in my dad's clothes since they were of the same size—just that dad was slightly bulkier, but before I could even fully celebrate for this day's glory, Jongin's polite refusal from downstairs resounded in my ears like a cryptic message translating to 'Yes. We're not okay yet. This isn't the happily ever after you sought after just because of your moronic stunt in the river nor it is any sort of reconciliation'. Great. The one thing I did today that I deemed right probably looked like a blackmail to him to just agree along with me and my impossible telltale about my so called 'seven years ago'.

I reluctantly took a shower—almost didn't—and dug into my pile of baggy clothes (the variety I definitely miss wearing after up for dresses just because I should look mature and sophisticated at 25), wore my favorite grey hoodie with 'S & J' printed in bold Back-To-School font at the front (that I—quote—forced Jongin into buying me for my 16th birthday since I was craving for something thought through, crafted and original, and it just so happened he gave up on being patient and just let me point at this printing shop doing all 'souvenir thing' printing—unquote). Not to mention that I purposely asked the guy behind the counter of the shop to put 'S & J' on the hoodie since it's supposed to mean 'Soori & Jongin' to commemorate our friendship, but most importantly that day. It was probably the happiest and most meaningful birthday I ever had. And it still was because I had it with Jongin for the last time.

The birthdays I celebrated with Sehun mattered less at this point since (1) I still hate him (2) he totally doesn't deserve to be remembered after what he did (3) I finally realized that all the perfect birthday dates we had in fine dining restaurants and give away of expensive bouquets doesn't compare to the presents my Jongin gave me, namely: a trip around our town on his bike at 6 in the morning when we were 8, a flower crown at 9 and a cute flower ring at 10, gingerbread cookies with sprinkles and frosting when we were 11, a hug and a kiss on the cheek when we were 12, the strawberry shortcake he baked when we were 13, a ticket to The Nutcracker musical when we were 14, breakfast in bed ala fried bacon, egg, French toast and fresh milk when we were 15, and of course the infamous 'S & J' hoodie at 16. Now that I remember the piece of clothing, I was glad I still wore it at home even at 25 especially when I just need a 'Jongin hug' to make myself feel better during a y day. 

Obviously, after admiring myself in my hoodie in front of the body length mirror installed in my room—told you it was a habit I grew up with, not that I was vain or anything, or maybe I was but not admittedly-obvious-kind-of-vain—I plopped on my bed, facing the plastic stars on my ceiling. It was high noon so it was pretty much ironic I was silently pleading for them to glow when it's absolutely sunshiny outside. 

When I gave up on that, I went on to my set of books on display in my shelf that were there to make me look braniac even if I never got to read them. I picked out one—that if any other day like this, mom (or anyone who knew the 18 year old me) saw me open and more so read a book—would think I really had hit my head hard, and it somewhat affected a part of my brain; gave me a concussion that lead to selective amnesia or some complicated cog works that completely busted out the lazy that I was, leading me to this girl reading Romeo and Juliet in her balcony while on a reclining chair like a cozied up reader. Lovely. Lovely. I surely will get more credit for finally looking and being nerdy. I guess my hard work in college, proper academic attitude, and almost faultless scores finally paid off. In a sense, this made me think about high school and what my teachers and peers would say to me when they finally see this newfound Han Soori. I just know I could ace even the honor roll with this enough stock and advanced knowledge I currently still have intact in my head. But as if I would even bother study when I was planning on slacking off like a normal teen.

"Is that your newfound hobby?" Was Jongin's mocking commentary as soon as he had come out, after camping in for so long in his room. Just when I stopped waiting for him to come out, why does he always appear? I'm betting my 'braniac' self reading Shakespeare shook up his whole perspective of me, that he came out to interrogate. Fine with me.

Not bothering to look at him, I said, "S University completely influenced me on overdosing with books than with ecstasy or any other druggery drugs."

"Oh." His intelligent reply. "So, you made it big in college?"

Rolling my eyes at the overestimation I answered, "I just improved. Everyone upgrades in college just to tell you. It isn't as a piece of cake as high school, and it was a take to the post college life so everyone became busy making serious business."

"And it just so happen you were into the serious business in college that you underwent this transformation under the knife?" He didn't sound anything close to sarcastic, yet the implication of his words were as heavy as saying 'I could never see you like this. You really changed.'; and it just hit me in the face like a slap.

I sighed, trying to channel the inner angel to myself that was me when I grew passive as I got older. "Look, it wasn't just me who changed. Everybody needed it. Me, Kyungsoo, Minjee, Hana, Luhan, Chanyeol...Se..." I was close to saying Sehun's name, but I stopped before I even did. Good.

"So, you're saying it was inevitable. And even I changed? What did I even become after 7 years? Since you know all the futuristic stuff how about tell me how much I changed."

It wasn't the sardonic way he said it, that I felt blood drain from my face and veins, but the mere question he threw at me when I was completely unguarded was what made stating an 'I didn't dare contact you or ask for your whereabouts that I didn't know what you became' a completely hard task. How would I tell him that without even disappointing him further?

"I—..." Nothing. Not a single word came out of my mouth. I was good as a mute at this part of the conversation. How would he feel if I told him that in those seven years, despite praying for him to be present in my life every day, I purposely missed every opportunity to learn something about him? Not the goddamn place he was in. Not his address. Not his phone number. Not his email. Not even his relationship status. Nothing. Just because I was still guilt-tripping myself for whatever ill-fate I put on our friendship. Stupid, I know. So, I didn't say it out loud.

"Hey, are you still with me?" He waved a hand in front of my face, this time looking at him made me widen my eyes. He was already in a new set of clothes, but it wasn't what made me almost have a heart attack right there and then—because it was a given he looked really good in anything and everything. Nor was it his still damp hair framing his face that caught my attention. But his eyes that were sporting contact lenses. He really looked good in them that I couldn't stop staring at him or worshipping how different—in a good way—he looked.

Utterly flustered, I looked down, covered and uncovered my eyes before bolting up from the chair, almost dropping my book in the process. "It was really nice seeing you! But my mom is calling me now! Bye!"

I fled from the scene, having my heart weirdly thumping inside my chest like I had just run a marathon. I shook my head, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out, to calm my nerves. And as soon as I felt a little better—despite the tingly sensation still there—I went down and looked for mom. She was in the living room knitting another scarf—it was her hobby, especially when summer was about to end. This time, however, she was doing a pink and brown scarf. 

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