lix. Things Genuinely Misread & Generally Missed II

“I swear you’ve been standing here for hours.” 

You watched as Sunggyu continued to poke and prod at the grilling meat, flames sprouting up to sear at the ends of six steak skewers. You you lips, not able to hide your anticipation. Sunggyu saw the action, nudging you with his elbow to step back lest he lose even a single patty he’d worked so hard to perfectly cook.

“Considering the look on your face, you look like you’ve been playing in the water for hours.” Sunggyu shot back, knowing for a fact it’d been just a little over and hour since he’d lit up the coals that had now begun to flicker only dimly in the grill’s hearth. 

You smoothed back your wet hair, pulling it towards your falling ponytail. Exhaustion had begun to kick in only a handful of minutes ago. Thus, you opted out of the water basketball game that was currently going on. Myungsoo, B-bomb, and Woohyun versus Ricky, Niel, and Yura. Surprisingly, Yura’s team was leading by an unexpected three-pointer by the charmingly persistent girl herself.

Lazing on beach towels at the water’s edge was Minah, Sungjong, and Kyung. Sungjong’s mouth was moving, but Minah wasn’t looking at him. Most likely, the young werewolf brought Kyung along for some much needed comic relief should his attempt to placate her go awry. Taeil and Hoya sat a few feet away from them, exchanging what looked like serious words — the kind you’d have trouble understanding no matter how many trips out of the country you took.

U-kwon and Jaehyo were carrying out foldable chairs and tables from the cars that Dongwoo was setting up as quick as lightning, anticipating the food whose smell permeated through the hot summer air. It was thanks to this same excitable male that you were now soaked head to toe. Just an hour earlier, Dongwoo, along with Woohyun and Hoya, lured you to the lake’s edge before anyone even dared to jump into the cold water. Then, without hesitation, they picked you up and threw you in. 

Your flailing as you resurfaced proved it was indeed just as cold as everyone thought.

It was, as Kyung would say, not one of your best moments.

Especially considering the water only went halfway up to your forearms. 

But, it made everyone laugh. From Minah to Ricky. From Zico to P.O. From Sunggyu to Sungjong. And you briefly understood the attraction to playing the jester every now and then.

Catching your breath, you managed a laugh, “I guess that’s why our Elite friends skipped out, huh?”

Sunggyu spared a cautionary, peripheral glance your way. In truth, he never liked lying. Lying meant he had something to hide. Lying was a cowardly way of protecting something. Lying was, overall, something he frowned upon. But, he told one anyway. 

He was lying before he knew it as he said, a smiling straining against his cheeks, “Only a fool would knowingly accept an invitation to have their body tortured so.”

When the truth of the matter was, he never passed your invitation onto Seohyun and her friends. He doesn’t know why he didn’t. He simply didn’t. There were many excuses he could have used: such as, they already have enough on their plates. There were many reasons for you to question him: such as, no matter how tiring, who skips out on free food? 

“Then we’re both fools. Me for thinking up the idea, and you for catering to it.” Was what you dreamily exclaimed, hooking an arm through his. “Fair?”

“Fair.” Sunggyu smiled again, his teeth stinging. Feeling as though they were rotted away by his tiny fib. By his selfishness despite how selfless he wanted to be. 

“Are you worried about the food?” You misread his conflicted expression. “I’m sure it’ll come out fine.” You mistakingly said the following too easily, “I trust you so much it’s crazy.” And, looking up at him, you asked him to do something that was the farthest from easy, “You know that, right?”

Lying for the second time, his arm stiffened in your grip as he nodded, “Same here.” 

Too afraid of meeting your unwavering gaze, the eyes that had changed since you left, that knew so much more since you left, that could see right through him if he left any evidence behind, he smiled. 

“We’re both crazy fools.”

An act that was easier to pull off than he thought it would be.

And, sadly, Sunggyu also thought he could get used to it —  should push come to shove.

“It’s done,” you spoke up, “the meat.”

“You think?”

Letting go of his arm, pushing away from him, you nodded, “I know.”

He was unfair beyond belief. 

Kyung was the one to disrupt everyone’s summer bliss. Chomping down on his second burger, loud-mouthed and obnoxious like he couldn’t give a damn whose feelings got hurt, he pointed to P.O and Jiyeon and said, “We see you two sneaking kisses over there! We’re not blind!”

Ten minutes into the meal and that was the first thing anyone said. Yet everyone laughed where they sat gathered together, the side dish of canned beans he’d opened too far away to smell quite yet. Apparently, Sunggyu was more of a natural at grilling than he thought. Undisputedly, troublemaking came even more naturally to Kyung.

“Jealous?” Jaehyo joked, chugging down another gulp of water. He was on his third steak skewer and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Speaking with a full mouth, uncouth when food was involved, he proposed a ridiculous idea to rival U-kwon’s numerous own, “Why not make it into a trend if you’re so concerned with being left out?”

A lightbulb practically lit up above his head as Kyung straightened in his seat, randomly calling out the names of the two unfortunate people who were now sitting across from him, “Woohyun, B-bomb, it’s time to take your bromance to the next level!”

“Yeah,” B-bomb started, ending with, “no.”

Woohyun stared at him seriously, dropping his half-eaten hotdog, “What makes you think you’re the one who says what goes in this relationship?”

“I volunteer!” Ricky abruptly rose from his seat, both hands high in the air. It was an outburst quelled in the very next instant as Niel reached up and dragged him back down, locking him in a chokehold even Dongwoo was impressed by. 

“How about you and Sungjong, Kyung?” Hoya said with a smile, as though his ship was the one most likely to sail.

Sungjong coughed into his cup of water, the liquid going down the wrong pipe as he realized what Hoya had said too late. Too late to stop Kyung from turning to him, leaning on his elbow that propped itself onto the plastic table, smile big and cheesy, wink more extravagantly greasy than anything he’d seen before, “What do you say, smile boy?”

“I’d ask you if you want to keep your tongue.” Sungjong shot back misguidedly, giving Kyung all the artillery he needed to deliver the final, shameful blow.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” Kyung bit down, food nowhere near his mouth, pearly whites sparkling, gums as pink as Sungjong’s ears. 

“It’s a shame Sungyeol isn’t here.” Jaehyo reminisced, managing to sound genuine only for a matter of seconds, “He’d be climbing over the table in a frenzy to strangle me if he was.” 

But unlike Jaehyo, who regretted a lost opportunity to tease his best friend, Kyung suddenly remembered an unlikely pair ready and waiting to have trouble upon them. Pointing with his accusatory finger once more, he exclaimed excitedly, “Myungsoo,” laughing obliviously, “Hyunjoo,” ignoring everything and everyone, “get to it!”

And you felt like you couldn’t blame him for not knowing. Not only about your feelings. About Minah’s. About Ricky’s. About Woohyun’s. About Myungsoo’s, who sat unfazed across from you. Saying nothing. Looking at nothing. Just continuing to eat as though nineteen pairs of eyes weren’t waiting for his reaction. 

The odd thing is: it didn’t bother you in the least. 

Toes curling into sharp blades of grass as his gaze lifted, locking with your own, it didn’t bother you at all.

Looking to rescue you from the situation, buying herself a lifelong friend, Yura mimicked Ricky’s exclamation of, “I volunteer!” And then, without hiding a single ounce of her intentions, she kissed the person to her immediate right: Ahn Daniel. 

In the confusion that followed, no one was more elated than Minah as she commented with a smile, “about ing time.” Kyung’s insensitive suggestion was thoroughly forgotten as he was manhandled, thrown into the lake by Zico and Hoya mere minutes after he finished eating — the two having no regard for the “thirty minute rule” he vouched his life on as he went sailing through the air. A mere idea shelved until later that night, Myungsoo offering to drive you home once more. 

Saying he shouldn’t have would have been repetitive. Suggesting to drive him back instead would have been pointless. Staying content was nearly impossible as he stood at your doorstep, exchanging small talk. 

“When’s your flight?” 

It took a moment for you to mentally recall the date and time printed on your plane ticket, stuffed into the pages of your passport, “Next Monday? Five in the afternoon?”

“You say that like I’m supposed to know already.” He laughed, mimicking your raising inflection as he said, “Japan though? Mr. Teapot likes you more than I thought?”

“Considering he’s one of the trip’s advisors, I’ll get back to you with an answer soon.”

As of right now, you weren’t sure what possessed your history teacher, the one who was a little too open about his loathing for you, to recommend you as one of three highschoolers from your school to go on an academic excursion to Japan. Whether or not you were possessed enough to go is something you’d already decided last Spring. With Ricky and Niel’s blessing, with your own plans for the future becoming clearer, you’d decided to accept the opportunity. Visiting museums, historic sites, and a few shopping centers every so often, you’d be spending an entire month in yet another foreign country.

“There’s going to be a special class on the rise and fall of the Tokugawa Shogunate three days after we arrive. Then a presentation on the Meiji period. A seminar on the effects of foreign influence in the years following Perry’s expedition. An introduction on—“

You were rambling. Driven by pure excitement for the weeks to come, you were spilling out. Like a faucet that broke under pressure. As though Myungsoo would somehow sympathize with your love for history.

“I’m boring you?” You guessed. Intending to pose a rhetorical question. Sounding as though you were asking for his opinion. 

“Slightly.” He honestly replied. “But I’m still listening.” He added as some form of consolation. “Admittedly, anything that whisks you away sounds uninteresting by default.”

“I’ve decided to major in history after we graduate.” You hoped to revitalize his interest by drawing a connection between the trip and your plans for the future — the meaning conveyed in his last sentence flying over your stubborn head.

“Congratulations?” He clapped mockingly, playful in the face of your serious intentions.

Laughing sarcastically, you shoved his shoulder, “Believe it or not, that makes this important to me.” 

Not moving an inch, he shoved his hands in his pockets, “Trust me when I say: I believe you.”

Tone absent of apprehension. Shoulders slouched, not squared. Smile forming deep dimples on either cheek. Those three words had your resolve crumbing. 

“Do you mean that?”

Those three words that summarized the relationship between the two of you. Where mutual respect was exchanged. Trust was not a word to be taken lightly. Belief in your intent, not matter the actions that resulted, was held without looking over his shoulder. 

Without worrying if your failure would come back to haunt him. 

Did he mean it? He said it. But, did he mean it? It’s easy to just say something. 

It’s harder to say it again when asked to repeat it.

“You’ve given me plenty of reasons to doubt you,” he began, knowing when to take things seriously, “that’s for sure.” Not the best way to say what he’d wanted to. “Your track record in the loyalty department is lackluster, after all.” Not the nicest way either. “But at the end of the day,” in conclusion, “I don’t think you’d have it in you to betray me thrice.”

Obliviously inconsiderate to exactly how much of his ego he’d tossed aside to haphazardly lay his feelings before your feet, you took up his previous playful manner, “Do I seem that weak?”

“No.” He shook his head, “Rather, I think you like me too much to hurt me again.”

Blatantly, without a hint of any further hesitation, Kim Myungsoo pulled back the thick stage curtain. Almost a year of unspoken feelings stripped themselves bare before you. Left to fend for themselves as you came up with no words to defend them against those galaxy-deep eyes. To deny the claim he’d declared with the utmost seriousness.

Implying you like him. Saying you’ve hurt him before with your inconsiderate, inconsistent — two uninteresting trips and counting — intentions. Insinuating he likes you back.

He likes you back.

He had feelings that were capable of being hurt because he likes you back.

A conclusion he was stating too clearly for it to be unfounded. 

What he’d done with his actions numerous times in the past, he’d said with his mouth after months of emotional brooding. Of being content with feelings that flew high, destination unclear. Gestures that soared long, gliding towards nothing. Insinuations and implications that went nowhere: like his feet that landed on top of yours underneath the table this afternoon, Kyung’s insensitive proposition calling him to action.

To do something in response to the way you looked at him now.

Because you like him back.

Because he could tell. 

Because it didn’t take a genius to figure it out as you placed your feet on his, keeping him grounded, features blurring, awkward closeness causing you to laugh where your lips met his. Once. Twice. A third time that had him sighing. 

Disappointed, he mumbled, “You’re not even going to say it?” Hands pulling you closer, stopping you from turning this fleeting something into nothing once more. “I want to hear you say it.” Not believing in himself nearly as much as he did you. “Hyunjoo.”

And you made sure to say it once. Twice. A third time because he asked you to say it again.