a journal.
Prefacet/w: mentions of death
September 15, 2004
Haemi’s short legs couldn’t keep up with her mother’s pace, evidently falling behind as the woman began unloading their packed belongings. She eventually took a short break under a shaded area next to her home. The aromatic, sweet acacia tree in her neighbor’s front lawn drew the girl closer, unaware of the owner’s son at the opposite side of the tree trunk.
“It’s so hot!” Haemi exclaimed loudly, slumming down against the tree to enjoy its breeze.
“Shut up,” a grouchy voice responded, causing the girl to jump in surprise. She followed the voice to find an older boy on the other side. Curious at the book that he was reading, Haemi plopped down next to him without his permission— only to earn her a weird look in return.
“You can read big books already? That’s so cool…” she unconsciously muttered out loud.
“Of course, 10-year-olds are practically adults. Didn’t you know?” Sehun rolled his eyes.
“You’re the coolest 10-year-old I know!!” Her expression alone was enough to crack the boy’s cold front.
.
.
.
Haemi kicked the playful writer out of the room to change in peace. She hated the fact that his voice was still lingering in her head as if he was still in the room. The rosy hue on her cheeks became more evident whenever he would cross her mind. It was bad enough with the whole clothing mishap, but for him to easily throw out that he was jealous like it was nothing— what a tease. Why would he be jealous in the first place, what was he even jealous about; these were just the few questions she desperately wanted to know. Her thoughts came to a quick stop when she tried to put on Sehun’s sweatpants. The struggle of pulling the pants up her waist in order for it to not touch the floor, she cursed the man’s naturally long legs. By default, she still had to roll up the bottom part for it to not drag. Accompanied by his oversized hoodie, she either looked like the next fashion icon or someone who just gave up on trying. Either way, it was a horrible combination, but also a ridiculously comfortable choice. Letting the sleeves of his hoodie fall on her side, Haemi wiggled the extra fabric around in a helicopter motion to fill her amusement. Catching her in the act was Sehun, who stood by the unlocked door for the past minute without her knowledge; thankfully after she finished changing though.
“You should really lock the door next time,” Sehun interrupted. The editor nervously stuffed her hands inside the pockets of his jacket. A devilish grin appeared on his face as she straightened herself up, all while avoiding his gaze.
“I’m going home now,” Haemi mumbled, scrambling all over the place to pick up her clothing pieces. Without context, this scene would look rather scandalous. Sehun could only stand back and enjoy every second of her presence, wishing somehow time could pause right at this moment. And of course to ruin a beautiful scene, the sound of his manager’s muffled voice could be heard from the other side of the door, causing Haemi to pause at her exact position. The way her eyes doubled its side when signaling random hand gestures to her childhood friend, who did nothing else but watch her freak out for the fun of it.
Bohyun’s voice gradually got louder, indicating that he was probably near. The man kept calling out for Sehun, who have yet to respond. In the meantime, his editor searched every corner for a hiding spot; although his minimalistic room left her with very little options. Sehun held back his laughter when she anxiously hid her clothes under his bed, and to make her life just tad bit more adventurous, he decided to call for his manager.
“I’m in my room!” the writer shouted, his cheeks aching from wanting to burst out laughing. Bohyun had to show up at the most awkward timing, and she specifically did not want to go through the explaining process. In sheer panic, Haemi jolted towards the nearest hideout space— his closet. This will do for now, she thought.
Right on
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