o4

It was already autumn, and I didn’t even remember when was the last time Yongguk talked to me.

It just felt like a long time ago.

“It’s really cold! Mr. Park better be hurry,” Hana hissed, burying her both hands in the depth of her sweater’s pockets, as we were waiting for our formal teacher to return the absence book that daylight.

I looked at the yellow leaves that were laying on the ground, before slowly stepped one of them underneath my shoe. I watched how the edge of the leaf became frail as I pulled back my foot, which made me impressed of how it could turn to be so fragile.

“Looking at unimportant things again!” Hana complained as she looked at me.

I smiled, knowing that I probably just ignored her question.

“You should at least pay attention to your around. It’s fine for me, but it’s kind of rude for other people,” she kept blabbering.

But my eyes went through behind her shoulders.

As my smile slowly faded away.

“You did it again!” Hana frowned, but finally following my gaze since I didn’t answer her.

My eyes just couldn’t leave that figure.

“Ha—what’s wrong? You really like looking at Hyosung lately!” Hana said in disgust. “Do you like her?”

I blinked, finally be able to move my sight into Hana.

“You are a ’rose’! Why you’re looking at Jun Hyosung instead?” she asked again, in high curiosity.

Why?

“She’s smiling,” I muttered, out of purpose.

The frowns on Hana’s eyebrows slowly gone away, and I knew she could read the hidden meaning behind my words.

“She can only smile,” she claimed, “and chasing after guys.”

Chasing after?

“Don’t you know she’s been trying to get Yongguk’s attention since months ago? She is getting a bit shameless,” Hana said, in much lower tone.

I looked at Hyosung that was walking into the bus station while talking with her friends—and as always, she smiled and even laughed between their talk which made me wonder, how could someone always being so bright like that?

“Does she like him?” I warily asked.

“Of course,” Hana replied at once. “Whatever it is, stop looking at a nameless flower like her. She’s nowhere near your spot.”

I watched the bus finally came and Hyosung got into it with her friends, still smiling as she made her way inside. And as the bus went away, leaving the empty bus station behind—I knew she wasn’t a nameless flower.

“She’s like a sunflower,” I said, and Hana just stared at me, waiting for my continuation. “I’d prefer to be a sunflower. It knows how to yearn for something more than a rose.”




I didn’t know why it should happen.

I was walking through the corridor that morning, with Yongguk right after me. I wasn’t really sure he knew it though but I just took that chance to stare at his back.

His sturdy figure, his black hair that’s getting a little longer lately, his slow steps, his big hands—completely everything of him.

And a little part of me wanted him to know I was behind him.

“Yongguk-ah!”

I turned as those familiar voice came out from my back, but before I could see her, she had already running forward—into Yongguk’s side.

Yet I still knew it was Jun Hyosung.

“Good morning,” she said to him, showing her bright smile as usual.

“Yeah,” he replied.

It seemed like he was still a bit sleepy.

“Do you bring the book that I asked before?” she asked, her eyes didn’t leave Yongguk since then.

“Ah—I forgot it!” he tilted his head to the left side. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no! It’s okay,” she chuckled, “we still have tomorrow.”

“I’ll bring it tomorrow,” he promised, “that’s your class.”

“Uh, you’re right,” she glanced at the class beside her before looked at Yongguk back. “See you this lunch break!”

I watched Yongguk just slowly nod his head, before continue heading to our class. While I was still following on his back, hoping that I had more times left but miracle did never exist.

I wanted to call his name and say good morning just like what Hyosung did.

I wanted to walk by his side and talk about everything just like what that girl did.

I wanted to smile and laugh with him just like what she always did.

But I knew I could never do that.

“This is a group project but to make it easier, just work with your seatmate so there won’t be a mess,”

I stared at the biology teacher in the front that’s starting to write down the tasks on the board, wondering whether what just I heard was real or not.

I hoped I misheard it.

I hoped the teacher would turn and say that it wasn’t a seatmate project.

But as I saw my classmates were dragging their desk and chair, I didn’t know better what to do.

Until I heard the chair beside me were being dragged closer to my table.

I turned, and found Yongguk was already sitting on the side of my table, preparing the papers and textbook to start the project.

I knew I should have helped him but I just sat there, staring at his face instead.

It was the first time for me to see him from that close.

“Should we start now?” he asked, without even looking at me.

I snapped back into reality and quickly took my ballpoint, cluelessly looking at the board and my notebook back and forth. I didn’t listen to the teacher’s explanation before and didn’t have any idea of what we were going to do, which causing him to open the textbook himself. Obviously getting impatient.

“What’s the first question?” he slowly asked, still avoiding eye contact.

I looked at the board, wanted to tell him the question that was written there but my voice couldn’t come out. The thoughts of how Hyosung could do everything that I would never be able to accomplish brought me anxities.

I wanted to be like her.

I hated myself.

He finally looked at me, with a plain expression.

Which made me remember the last talk we had on the festival.

“Do you hate me?” he wondered.

I didn’t know how could he have those kind of thoughts. All this time, I was the one that always wondering whether he hated me or not.

Since I deserved hates more than him.

“You don’t want to talk with me,” he still looked into my eyes. “Am I right?”

Ah—the way sun shone behind me made him looked so shining, the colours that I couldn’t see lately.

How I missed to stay close with him.

“Don’t just look at me,” he remarked, slowly lowering his gaze into the book.

Then, what should I do?

I didn’t understand it.

“I,” I said, but paused for awhile when he looked at me back. “I never hate you.”

I could see nothing’s different from his face but somehow, I felt like the tension within himself was already vanished.

“Really?” he looked away.

The talk was going to end soon.

I had to think of something to say.

I had to.

“You should know,” I looked at the way he froze as I began talking, “I watched you too.”

Then, he put his eyes on me again. But this time, I could see through them clearly.

“What?” he muttered.

“I watched you,” I pursed my lips, trying to fight over my nervousness, “that’s why—I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” his deep voice ran through my ears.

Like a beautiful melody.

“I’m sorry that I can’t talk to you,” I bowed, feeling my own heartbeat inside of my chest.

There’s a long silence between us.

Where he did the project, while I just sat there.

And after some minutes that felt like forever, I heard his sigh.

“If you can’t talk, I will be the one that talk to you first,” he said, finally breaking the coldness.

I looked at him, and saw his face got strain.

Something that I had never see before.

“Is that fine for you?”