"Coffee. Extra black."   I looked at the life-saving drink gently placed beside my piles of notes. My tired eyes lifted to meet his.   "I love you."   Those round bright eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights of the reading room.   "I know."         I took my coffee black.   Luhan judged me for it.   He wouldn't understand because that boy functioned solely on sugar.   Coffee, isn't meant to be sweet.   But then again, my favorite barista disagreed. He would explain, that there is no right or wrong way to have your coffee. Our tastes were different. Our preferences varied. Some of us cringed even at a teaspoon of sugar. Others, can't put their lips to the cup without at least three cubes and a healthy dose of milk.   And the same cup of coffee invited different reactions.   Just like how we were each drawn to different types of people, and different types of people were drawn to us.   I was too busy smiling at my barista's mesmerizing cat-like eyes to absorb the hidden intentions of his words.   Luhan judged me for it too.   "Are you planning to ask him out?" My friend raised the question after our fifth cup of coffee that week.   "I am not busy to date."   "Sure." He answered with a laugh.   College life was hectic.   I had many commitments, on top of the never-ending school work. I had an internship to pass. I had school activities that required my constant involvement. I had a social life to maintain.   I had Luhan.       "I want to watch the latest Nicholas Sparks movie. I have waited long enough." Yoora declared as we strolled out of our last lecture of the semester.   "Sorry." I grinned sheepishly at her. "I already watched that."   "What?!" She paused in her tracks, with a scowl on her face. "With who?"   "Xiao Lu."   The tall girl shook her head in frustration, as she raised her fingers to her temple dramatically. "Are you guys dating or what?"   What.   We were 'what'.   What were we?   He always knew when I was free.   Or rather, he knew when to stay away when I wasn't.   I locked myself in my dorm on the most stressful days, showing up only to the most important of events, to the most important of people.   Luhan’s calls only came in when he knew I was available to hang out.   Or was I available because it was Luhan who called?   He knew me.   And I knew him.   I was the first person he called, if he needed someone to shop with, if he needed a girl to watch that romantic movie which he was too embarrassed to go watch alone or if he needed a friend to talk to when he couldn't sleep.   He was the first person I called, if I needed a ride after a party after drinking too much, if I was too sick to climb out of bed or if I needed someone to eat supper with.   I was his.   He was mine.   What were we?  

"You have to introduce your high school friends to me. Seriously. Who is this guy?" Yoora flipped her phone around so that I could see what was on her screen.

 

I blinked at the sight of my own social media account glaring back at me.

  "Sehun? Wait… why are you stalking me… in front of me?"   "I am bored." She grinned, as she continued scrolling through my old photos despite my growing mortification at my past being dug up without so much so as a warning. "He's good looking though. Don't you think so, Xiao Lu?"   "No." The boy beside me answered without looking up from his phone. "And for the last time, don't call me that."   An index finger came right to the bridge of my nose.   "You don't mind when she calls you Xiao Lu."   Luhan had an issue with the nickname ‘little deer’. It got on his nerves every single time someone called him that.   I was one of those people who refused to break the habit. He even knew I had his number saved under ‘Xiao Lu’ in my phone.   When he first saw it, Luhan had laughed.  

There were only a few people in life, who you would get along with, who you knew would never leave you in the dark, who you would trust your secrets with.

 

Your family. Your best friend. Your partner.

  Luhan wasn't related to me.   We would never refer to each other as best friends.   What were we?   He was a boy. A boy, who I enjoyed spending time with. A boy, who knew how to make me laugh. A boy, who knew how to comfort me when I cry. A boy, who understood me.   We caught movies together. We took walks together. We took each other out for food every other week. We had our spots. We had our usual, our habits, our inside jokes. The two of us almost had a pattern that we fell into, and no one wanted to be the first to break that pattern.   There was once, he suggested a nice restaurant for a change. A huge upgrade for two brook college kids.   "This feels like a date." I told him then.   He smiled at my words, before looking around at the restaurant. "Does it? How do you define a date anyway?"   I thought about the question, before answering him quite certainly. "Two interested parties, spending quality time together."   "But you can't possibly be interested in the other party until after you spend a lot of time together. What are those days called then?" He mused thoughtfully.   Resting my chin on my hand, I leaned forward. "Pre-dates."   He scoffed at my simple answer. "How do you tell when pre-date