A soft chuckle escapes the crevice of my windpipe as I return my gaze attentively to where it formerly belonged. In the most chaste manner I proceed to whisper a mere sentence. “I think you look prettier after you cry,” I say reassuringly. Obviously, such a remark induces a light slap on my left arm. “Shut your mouth,” she whispers back angrily, but the tiny, simpering smile of hers betrays her initial intention. I take her apparent act of violence good-naturedly, and I carefully take out my clean blue handkerchief. “Dry your tears,” I offer gently, my eyes that reflect with genuine concern. Perhaps with an air of meekness she then complies to my suggestion. She wipes her tear-stained face with my article as I allow my eyes to drift off towards another direction, soaking myself into the quiet of the almost empty library.

Greetings. Before the non-existent crowd point their fingers at me, I would like to vindicate my own being. I, for one, would never – well, I intend to avoid doing so – make a girl cry intentionally. I think that is utterly detestable. Wait, I digress. My thoughts are wandering off to places I render unnecessary. Anyways, this chapter of my life begins in the month of January. Don’t worry; it’s only a couple of months back. I won’t jump into the intricate details too quickly. Have I ever mentioned that I am a good storyteller? Because I am. Except a great story, is never just a story.

My name is Shin Dong Geun, otherwise known as Peniel. I am twenty years old and I am a freshman at my university. Yes, this information is confidential. I have heard that in another life, there is a man that looks like me, talks like me, acts like me – why, we even share the same name! – who is madly sought after by some humans that are referred as fangirls. That sounds insane! Well, at least that doesn’t happen to me. Nevertheless, the name of my university remains unneeded. I exceed hundred and seventy centimeters when it concerns my stature and I remain a humble individual who keeps all the rules. Well, there is one I actively bend but I’ll stress more on that later. My hair is consistently combed down nicely and I don’t pop my collar. I prefer squares over circles and ties over bowties. Alright; enough about the storyteller himself and more about the chapter itself.

Of all the facilities provided on my campus, I found and still find my heart at home in the land of books. Maybe it is the superabundance I was attracted to in comparison with my personal wooden shelves at home, but I knew then that my heart had no intention to budge. Firmly rooted the moment I stepped in, I was doomed to spend the majority of my university years here. Not that I minded though. I must say that I ardently adore the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves along with the leather-bound books which are the keepers of variant knowledge. This library, which eventually becomes my most frequent visited place on campus, is breathtaking. I visit it every day, exploring each section slowly and excitedly. I personally believe that there is no one as passionate as me when it pertains to reading material.

During the second week, the male librarian supervisor had noticed my obsessive habits and decided to approach me. I was looking for a book regarding the world’s mythology when he had tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I had turned around, and upon seeing his face I was immensely shocked. I thought that I was in trouble. However, it turned out that he wanted to appoint me as a librarian since I am so enthusiastic about them. I am pretty sure he meant it well but he made me sound like a freak. Nevertheless, without further ado I had instantaneously agreed. Dong Geun the meek librarian. Now isn’t that interesting.

I learnt to do the regular work, in which was honestly really simple. It consisted of book arrangement, telling the other students to whisper instead of shouting and how to manage the book exchange procedure. Of course, things like cleaning up the premise can be left unsaid and the supervisor always locks up after the allocated hours. It was during a delightful job like this did I realize that I began to notice more of my peers. I reckoned that it was a considerable sacrifice in a sense. I could always borrow more books at a time if the need arises.

The library operates from nine in the morning until four in the evening. There is a schedule regarding the librarian shifts but I must admit that I am just here every day anyway, so the aforementioned roster is redundant to one like me. Only when it was the ending point of the month of January did I notice something remarkably interesting and perplexing. While the general majority of the females would either read self-help books or women’s fiction, this particular student was different. Her taste is remarkably diverse. A wide range, truly.

However, what had really stood out to me was this – while the others mostly sighed dreamily or ponder wistfully, she would cry ever so softly. It must have been uncomfortable to shoo these people away while being in the peak of their emotions. Nevertheless, the supervisor would never delay the closing time. So I, Shin Dong Geun, would always step back and let the other librarians awkwardly remove the crowd. Perhaps one would view me as a coward, but I beg to differ. I would openly admit that my thoughts were fixated to her very memory.

If my mind does not fail me, surely it was during the month of February when I first learnt of her name. I was unwillingly dragged into a hyped event – apparently I’m handsome? – which was held prior to Valentine’s Day. The selected males were told to suit up and treat the ladies with uttermost respect. Upon hearing that I had figured that it wouldn’t be too difficult to execute. So we provided our extemporaneous services for the females and they seemed to enjoy it immensely. It was a thing that is secretly organized each year by some of the guys. In spite of the fact that they were all very nice, I felt out of place.

I mean, come on. I was the only freshman playing host that day and so I couldn’t help but see the major difference. Now, I was not talking about suaveness. Yes, they definitely have it but that was not the point. I meant the familiarity. Whenever one of the girls would go to a senior, he would be able to mention her name. Obviously, this would make any girl pleased. Whereas for someone like me, I was unable to even mention a single one. Don’t get me wrong here. I did not and would never intend to have a string of fancy girls or something. I just feel sorry each time the girl’s face would drop ever so slightly and proceed to introduce herself with the biggest smile she could muster at that time. I felt like a horrid person although it was no one’s fault.

“Your shoes,” I had said simply as a female sophomore was about to leave, gesturing towards the sleek black ones. A musical laugh had escaped her lips when I had said so. I wondered as to how that was amusing, but my thoughts were not carried out aloud. I leaned towards her a little so that she could use my shoulder as a steady support while wearing the aforementioned footwear. She had gladly done so, and flashed a bright grin at me when she was done. “Thank you, Dong Geun!” she had expressed gratefully. “You’re such a thoughtful sweetheart.”

The next thing, admittedly, had caught me completely off-guard. The tall sophomore had taken two steps towards me – therefore invading my personal space – and out of nervousness, I had closed my eyes. “How cute,” was what she had distinctively whispered and once I felt that her presence was gone, I had meekly opened my eyes. I sensed a new weight on my head, which my adroit fingers identified it to be a rabbit hair band. I wondered if it would be foolish to assume the probability that I have become her predilection. Nevertheless, I had finished up my job as a random host of the day and returned to my second home – the library.

I entered it, noting the significant drop in the number of visitors. I assumed that it was due to Valentine’s Day. I remember shrugging it off easily as I had inadvertently played my part for the day already. I searched the pristine shelves, my mind hungry for a book that would pique my interest. Eventually, such a thing had happened and I held the book tightly. I believe that I was in a slight reverie as I headed towards the counter. Perhaps I had a stupid facial expression too. I had only snapped out of it when the gentlest tug on my shirt sleeve had caught my attention.

I turned around to see the girl who I had been watching for a while now. “Dong Geun,” she had said mildly. “You forgot to take it off.” My cheeks turned florid when I remembered the rabbit ears on my head. It was a good thing that she had mentioned before the librarian supervisor had spotted me. He would have thrown a fit. “Ah,” I uttered and smiled sheepishly as I removed the offending hair band from my head. “Thanks…?” I had trailed off uncertainly as I had not known her name. “Lee Hyoju,” laughed Hyoju as she smiled. “You’re welcome.” I knew then and there that I wanted to see that smile of hers again.

Lee Hyoju. She happens to be the same age as me. Her ebony hair cascades comely pass her shoulders and her fringe often hides her eyes. I suppose that is useful to hide her tear-stained face. Not like I ever find her hideous, anyway. She becomes the reason why I read the books she has already read. I want to see why tears would just fall from her eyes whenever she reads a said book. I often perplex myself over those works. And sometimes, I actually think she noticed my recent habit. She gives me a look. I just have no idea if it is a good or a bad thing. Oh well.

Painstakingly, I do manage to convince the librarian supervisor eventually that I am responsible enough to do the lock up duty for the library each day. I will never forget the priceless moment in which he had gruffly passed me the respective keys. I had to refrain from allowing a huge, callow grin to come upon my face. So when closing time had rolled in that day, I had quietly bid to the other librarians to take their leave. They were surprised; maybe even displeased at being ordered around but since they remember me as a good guy, they had complied. I laughed softly afterwards as I stretched the time to five in the evening. The visitors were mostly happy that day, save for one. In the almost empty library, I stretched the closing time to six in the evening for Hyoju. And only for her.

Maybe it’s just me, but I find that she cries even more than ever lately. Something tells me that it is an inner plea and not of a selfish motive to gain attention. I wonder incessantly if I am a soft guy for feeling such sympathy for her. In all honesty, my heart breaks for her silent cause. At the beginning, I intended to push the time to five so that the visitors would get an extra hour – and that is already bending the rules – but I just cannot bear to shoo Hyoju away while she is crying.

I don’t want to hurt her with my actions. I have asked for the reason behind such tears before, but a poor smile was all I ever got. So after five until six in the evening is the time in which I would spend my time with her quietly. Sometimes I would be rearranging the books. Sweeping the floor. Discreetly pass her a piece of tissue. Write her the weirdest poems. Try to make light conversations. Get her a drink. Compliment her shoes. Say some jokes. I sound like I’m in love.

One eventful day, I then learn of everything. I sit beside her, fiddling with one of the chess pieces. I had laid out the board along with the black and white pieces. I just have no competitor to play with. It isn’t a problem since I thought that I am capable enough to play both sides fairly. I do. I do so until a frustrated cry unleashes itself. I stare wide-eyed with slight astonishment at Hyoju.

“Why do you have to be so nice, Dong Geun?” whispers Hyoju with perpetual tiredness and irritation. I remain silent upon hearing that statement. Something in that voice of hers tells me that she isn’t done just yet. I would only allow my eyes to look fondly at her in spite of her current mood. I wonder for the millionth time as to why a girl like her was plagued with an abundance of sorrow that drove her to desperate tears. In a chaste manner I turn towards her, outwardly proving that I am willing to catch hold of every word.

She buries her lovely face into her white-sleeved arms that are on the table. “You fool,” she continues softly. “You’re breaking me.” Her sobbing becomes increasingly evident, and the familiar ache in my chest returns. I am stuck in a quandary. Have I done the thing I feared most? Hurting someone by my actions? My hand, it nearly reaches her hidden face. The want to eradicate her tears grows so violently. Against all odds, she continues. “I love music,” whispers Hyoju quietly. “I really do, Dong Geun. So what do you think happens to one like me when I get into an accident that isn’t my fault? A drunk driver hits me and I get hospitalized. I return to campus later than everyone else and…” She lifts up her head and looks at me with the scintilla of dignity she has left.

“The doctors confirm that I will be permanently deaf,” says Hyoju deliberately before her head collapses onto her damp sleeves again. I am certain that my heart is undergoing rupture. My mind is in a birl, and I feel so horribly heartsick to the point that I could faint. She bravely continues. “I try to escape by reading books to occupy my mind,” says Hyoju mildly. “But when I return to reality, I can’t help but to lose composure. I break down.” She stops, but proceeds to look at me once more with a smile. “Then you come along,” whispers Hyoju. “Shin Dong Geun, who pours a plethora of care on me and granted me company. Who tries his very best to make me smile in the most endearing ways. For that – thank you.” And just for a little while, her tears stops forming. In the next seconds, the chess pieces scatter on the floor and I feel a warmth spreading. It is Lee Hyoju. She is embracing me; hugging me. Quietly, I return the gesture and tangle my fingers fondly in her silky hair. I wrap my arms around her. And like a broken spell, her tears return.

“I wish I could hear your voice again.”

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Finally! This isn't the one I was working on, but I love it anyway, ^^/ This time around, I tried to write from the first person perspective along with the use of present tense. It is quite challenging, ahahaha...

I hope you've enjoyed the story, anyhow. Do leave a comment if you feel like it. Not compulsory.

Now then, if I'm lucky I would be able to write my Jaejin oneshot soon enough...