His lips were tantalizing. The way they were slightly parted when he focused was absolutely mesmerizing. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his tongue barely peeked through those gorgeous lips. They were slightly chapped from the cold, but they were still perfectly kissable. The only problem was that I couldn't just go up and give him a kiss.

I was his best mate and he had a girlfriend. She seems nice, but I don't think he really loves her. He's been with her for two years, but he told me once that he felt like something was missing- that spark. I knew exactly what spark he was talking about. I felt it six months ago.

I didn't have a crush on him six months ago. In fact, I thought I was for the other team. I thought I liked s and s, not . Until I touched his hand. That and when my girlfriend wanted to go all the way. I found that I couldn't do it. I broke it off a couple weeks later.

But that spark I felt when I touched his hands was something I just couldn't ignore. I thought about it for weeks before I finally realized that I had a huge, gigantic, out of proportion crush on him. I knew he felt the spark, too, just from how we both reacted afterwards.

It was awkward, to say in the least.

But back to now. He was drawing away and I was practicing my guitar. My playing was more automatic than anything since my mind wasn't on it. I was still staring at his lips.

"Are you ok?" he asked, looking up from his drawing. I gave him a confused look, curious as to why he asked me that. "You stopped playing about two minutes ago and have been staring at me for a while."

I blushed, ducking my head and hoping he wouldn't notice. "Sorry," I muttered. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" he asked, setting his artwork aside.

I blushed again and quickly thought of a lie. "The next Harry Potter book."

"You and your books, dude. I never could read that many and that thick," he grumbled. I sighed in relief. He was my best friend, but I haven't come out to him yet. I haven't told anyone. That was actually part of the reason I asked if he wanted to hang at my place today. I was going to tell him... maybe.

I played another song. It was one that I usually played when I was frustrated. "Ok, I know you're upset about something, Sungyeollie," he sighed. I froze.

"What makes you say that?" I asked nervously.

"You only play Metallica's Unforgiven when you're upset," Myungsoo stated.

I sighed and put my guitar down. How was I going to say this? I had come up with hundreds of ways to start but now that I was actually going to tell him I forgot what they were. "Will you promise not to hate me?" I whispered.

"I could never hate you, Sungyeol," he giggled.

"Well... I like someone," I started.

"And? Who is it? Is it one of those preppy es? I wouldn't hate you for that but I would say you have poor choice." He acted so indifferent. It was hard to say my next words.

"No, it's not the preppy es. Are you sure you won't hate me?" I asked quietly. I felt a tear of worry escape my eye.

"Of course, Sungyeol! You can tell me anything," Myungsoo assured me, his voice filling with worry. He came and sat next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"It's you," I croaked out.

"What about me?" he asked. I giggled at his slowness                                       

"Myungsoo, the person I like is you." I searched his face for his reaction. It was blank. "Myungsoo, please answer me," I begged after a few minutes of silence.

"Sungyeol, I have a girlfriend. I like Krystal. No, I love Krystal," Myungsoo muttered, standing up and walking to my door. The words cut me like a searing hot knife. I couldn't breathe. I was expecting him refusing me, but not him telling me that he loved Krystal. He walked out.

After a few seconds I stood up and ran after him. "Myungsoo, wait! Please!" I begged. I was near tears.