“Hyung, is she your… girlfriend, then?” Jongin was curious. Both of them seemed to share a deeper relationship – something more profound than friendship alone – especially after witnessing how Kyungsoo held her after the little incident in the cafeteria.

“No, she isn’t,” Kyungsoo hastily replied, careful not to let his guard down. He wasn’t sure why Jongin was interested all of a sudden. “Why do you ask?”

“She looks… nice.”

Kyungsoo guzzled at Jongin’s response. Nice? What did that even mean?

“She’s my bestfriend. I’ve known her for quite a while.”

“That’s what they all say, hyung,” Jongin mocked. Kyungsoo thought his friend still had the slightly cocky streak in him from their early elementary school days.

“Why, are you interested in her? Already?” he shuddered at the idea. Thinking about it made him rather uncomfortable.

“Maybe?” his friend teased, leaving him relatively bewildered. Kyungsoo felt uneasy – he hadn’t talked about Hyemi with another guy in the past, since the peer pressure victim, Byun Baekhyun. Something in Jongin’s tone was unsettling, so he reconciled with himself to come up with the most seemingly sensible response.

“Well,” he murmured, “just… don’t be.”

--

“Oh, annyeong… Jongin-ah.”

A cloud of water vapour covered Kyungsoo’s face as he gave his greetings. He was sharply on time. Deep inside, I felt a slight tinge of guilt. Right after my last class had finished, I told myself I’d had enough of books for the time being. If it weren’t for cousin vocalist who was absolutely convinced that his performance techniques were highly plausible to his audience, I wouldn’t have budged from my seat. I would have stayed with Jongin instead and waited patiently for the whole show to end.

I would have completely forgotten.

“I- I better get going, then,” Jongin stuttered, and we said our goodbyes. I ushered Kyungsoo inside the house immediately because his teeth were chattering quite violently. It reminded me of the night at the park when he kindly lent me his black pullover. It reminded me of the night he held my hand.

I blankly stared at my textbook for Classical Studies and randomly flipped through the glossed pages. Examinations were due in exactly a week, but m­y brain wasn’t set to function diligently tonight. I lost myself in strange notions and reflections instead. Strange notions and reflections regarding unreciprocated questions, puzzled feelings and Do Kyungsoo. I stole hidden glances at him, carefully watching the way he turned pages, the way he wrote, the way his eyes roamed over notes, and the way he ruffled his hair every now and then. This boy was just like a constellation – difficult to decipher, but it was enough to “just stare all night and just get lost in them”.

But before I knew it, two hours had passed and all I’d managed to get done was read a paragraph on red-figure vases.

Damn it.

Kyungsoo yawned sonorously, stretched and got up from my computer chair. Packing up, he made his way to the door and held the knob.

“Hyemi-ah.”

I caught his eyes, and our gazes locked onto each other. He held out his free hand and raised it in the air.

“My hands,” he motioned, “they’re… cold.”

Then he turned the door latch and swiftly walked outside, leaving the door creaking, and leaving me hanging in a daze.