a/n: throws a 5k cheesy kaistal for u

---

He puts his playlist on repeat, and the songs blast through the blue earplugs.

It’s Sunday, and not a single day of summer has passed without this boy circling around the green field of children playing soccer and red-checkered mats of people who go out on picnics.

He smiles and stops to stretch his tanned long legs at the side of the green field. He looks around and it’s just a relieving sight for him to see the crowd like this, because it’s quite hard to find the field he loves so much to be packed like this on the other days.

Thanks to summer, he hums as rotates his neck left and right.

One round walking, two rounds running, and one moment later that day he’s found to be sleeping under that big tree at the corner. It has become his corner; even no one bothers to care about that. He snuggles to one side when suddenly he feels a loud thump along with sudden pain on his back. Groaning, he opens his eyes lazily and he’s more than ready to yell at those annoying boys who he assumes to be the culprits.

Unfortunately, the said boys are still keeping a safe distance by playing way far from him, with their ball are safely dribbled within their thin legs.

He blinks. So.

 

“That’s why you don’t sleep on a fine Sunday morning.” Scoffed someone and Jongin quickly looks for that voice’s owner.

 

Really, she doesn't know whom she’s messing up with, Jongin grumbles mentally.

The time Jongin lays his eyes on that someone, all of his mental loath disappears and he could do nothing but covers his eyes.

He thinks, it’s the sun, as he averts his gaze to a pair of pink running shoes, standing few meters before him.

 

“Could you please—move to that side?” Jongin says, voice hoarse from his beautiful nap.

 

He hears her sighing before (fortunately) complying and moves few steps from her current place, causing Jongin to see her clearly now without any distraction, including the direct sunlight.

Gorgeous – the only word Jongin’s capable to describe her as.

 

“Give me the ball.” She demands curtly.

He looks at her in disbelief, “Really?” He chuckles sarcastically. “That’s all? You’re not going to, you know, this verb called ‘apologize’?”

 

Seeing that long-dark-strangely-messy-but-beautiful-haired girl looking back at him without any intention to say something else, his mouth gapes open and out of the blue, shocking himself and even more her, he picks up the ball on his feet and throws it in to the empty street.

Her eyes widens and just when she’s about to yell, the empty street is no longer empty.

It’s just a mere second, for heaven’s sake.

 

“O…kay.” He mumbles and blinks several times as they watch the ball is being crushed, that the air literally being out of it, and being flattened as flat as the asphalt, by an innocent garbage truck’s very, very, big wheel.

 

Well, make it wheels; because the second wheel on the back really does taking the soulless ball loses its soul.

Both their mouths are gaping, and got to take a note at his twitching eye at the misery of the poor ball’s misery.

Jongin doesn’t have time to even take a breath when he feels all of his hair is being pulled by a pair of, somehow, strong tiny hands.

 

“WH—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He yells as he tries to break free from the emerging pain from his superior. “STOP IT—IT—HURTS—DAMN IT WHAT PART OF ‘IT HURTS’ THAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND?”

“SAY THAT TO YOURSELF, .”

“WHAT’S WITH THE SUDDEN A-WORD?!” He stops struggling for a minute to think, but continues anyway when he feel a grasp of his hair is no longer planted to his scalp. “W—WAIT! I’M SORRY, OKAY?! BUT CAN YOU LET GO OF ME FIRS—DAMN, WOMAN, I WILL GO BALD.”

 

She suddenly stops her way from literally getting him bald and let go of him. He’s more than grateful that his strands of hair can finally breathing, freely, again. There are almost faint tears on both his eyes and he turns to her accusingly.

 

“What do you think you’re doing just now.” He firmly says, not really asking.

She stays silent and pulls up both her hands. Scrunching her face a little, “Ew, your hair. Just how many days you haven't washed them?”

He laughs, almost sounds like he’s proud of that, and shrugs before smirking at her horrified face, “What can I say? It’s such a waste of shampoo if I wash my hair frequently.” She’s even more terrified when he continues. “I mean, come on, it’s summer.  You go out in summer almost everyday so—“

“Enough.” She holds up one of her hand and sighs, “It’s enough. I think I would get infected. It’s… sticky.” She can feel shivers down on her spine as she rubs her thumb to her fingers. “Oh God, how can a people like you exist.”

 

He laughs even more and ignores her, looking up at the field that’s getting emptier now, he yawns and walks back to his corner.

 

“W—wait! Where do you think you’re going?” She asks, watching the suspect of her almost forgotten dead ball pulling up his top. “A—ARE YOU CRAZY?! W—WAIT!” She turns on her heels as fast as she could, not missing a glimpse of tanned perfect abs of his.

He looks at her innocently. “What’s wrong? Haven’t you seen a man’s topless body before?”

“It’s public place for God’s sake.” She grunts and she sulks even more when she hears him laughing for the nth time ever since their first encounter. “Stop laughing. There’s nothing funny to begin with.” Grumbling, she peeks carefully to the back to find the said boy still not wearing anything on top. “What took you so long? Put that goddamn t-shirt.”

 

He chuckles again and walks closer to her.

 

“What—what are you doing? Don’t come closer. Don’t. Don't you dare—“

A gust of whisper brushes her left ear, making it crimson. She once again feels shivers down, way down until her lumbar. “What?” She squeaks.

“You.” He repeats. “It's you who's funny to begin with.”

 

Slowly, she turns around and her eyes widen in surprise for the close distance between them. She can even feel his breath on her forehead. She gulps, and looks up at him, fighting hard to not look down at them chocolate bar.

He grins, and she wants to washes that grin off with a punch, but he unfortunately had her when he speaks later.

 

“I’m sorry about your ball.” He starts. “I know you really still want to argue with me, or want to have a conversation with me, or simply, you just want to get closer with me, but sadly, I have a team practice in an hour so I had to leave.”

 

He fakes a sniffle, which she raises her eyebrow at.

 

“But it’s nice meeting you, really. It’s really rare to find a cute girl like you around the field and if I’m not mistaken, it’s your first time coming here, right?”

 

His previous somber look has now changed into a friendly one. Friendly my , she grumbles mentally.

 

“Well, enough with the chit chat. You can come again tomorrow, because I’ll always be here every morning the whole summer. So, don’t be sad.” He says, smiling. “Alright, gotta go. Bye for now!” This time, right before he leaves, he really has the courage that he literally ruffles her hair right there, leaving her speechless.

5 seconds and she finally recovers, she stomps her feet and turns around to once again, yell at him. “WE’RE NOT FINISHED!”

“I know!” He yells back. “I thought I told you that you can come again tomorrow!” He’s still walking away, not sparing her a glance.

She groans. “GARETH BALE SIGNED THAT BALL!”

He stops in his track for a second, before continuing his walk. “Then I’ll sign another ball for you!”

“H—HEY!” She watches in disbelief, as he slowly gets smaller in her vision, until he finally reaches the end of the field where she’s at the other one.

He turns around and smirks. “Oh, I’m Jongin, by the way. See you tomorrow!” He even waves, before a car halts behind him and he disappears just like that, getting into that van.

“What. The. . Just. Happened.” She curses lowly, sulking the whole day for the nonexistent signed-by-Bale ball.

 

She cries herself to sleep that night and regretting for not cherishing every moment she had with the ball.

 

-

 

The next day happens and Jongin, surprisingly, washes his hair today before he jogs up to the field. He even double checked himself and voluntarily splashed his perfume when it’s actually a no use.

He glanced over the time and he’s approximately 3 minutes late and he knows that what took him long is no other than washing his hair.

 

“Why did I even wash my hair.” He asks to himself, but no answer comes out.

 

He shrugs the thought off, begins tying the shoelaces of his black running kicks, and slings his bag over his shoulder. He doesn’t forget to put his earphones on and like every other day, the music blasts through out his vein and it’s just like a doping for him.

But one thing for sure excites his every step towards the field right then, that he doesn’t want to figure what until he’s found under his big tree again, not sleeping like the other days but waiting for something to happen. Or someone, to be precise.

He occasionally tilts his neck from side to side, eyes scanning the whole field that’s not less crowded than yesterday, searching for specific pair of electric pink running shoes.

Somehow, after few good hours, he thinks that maybe it’s still too early to just sit without perspiring, so he stands up and stretches like he always does, before circling around the field like he’s supposed to.

 

Jongin’s one of his school’s runner, athlete, or whatever it is. Unfortunately, he’s now competing not because he’s willing to do so, but because of his ability, as cheesy as it sounds.

He likes running. He likes the feeling he got after a round or two with sweats rolling down his neck. He likes the adrenaline rush that flows throughout his body. He just likes it, without any intention to compete with it. But people notices, and apparently, so does his PE teacher, that when Jongin refuses to join the said teacher even begs and pleads with a whole week free lunch in return.

So there Jongin is, in the school and even nation’s newspaper every time he wins another, another, medal.

 

But once again, he runs because he feels like it. So if he ever loses where the school would become gloomy for a week, he just walks around without feeling any pang at the absence of gold medal on the wall of fame that month.

 

He’s currently on his seventh round when he spots a familiar sight right at the corner – his corner.

A grin quickly appears within his lips and without realizing, he runs a little bit faster than his current pace. He also doesn’t realize that people has been staring his way because the usual expressionless boy is now creepily grinning. And he really doesn't realize the unusual thump inside his chest that he assumes as the result for his new record of the week.

 

“Hi.” He greets, “you came.”

 

He swears it’s the run that makes him breathless the time she turns around to glare look at him.

 

“Let’s get over the chitchat. So what are you going to do to replace my precious ball?”

 

She crosses her arms, and he’s silent for a minute.

 

“Do you really run?” He asks, kind of startling her.

“Are you really asking me that?” She asks back.

“Why are you asking back? Answer me first.” He demands and he really asked out of curiosity. Because, silently, he has been staring intently at her from head to toe and sees no sweats at all and he can even smell her lavender scent from where he’s standing and she’s just that not-kind-of-a-running-girl.

 

When on the other side, he’s all sweaty and smelly and blah blah blah.

 

“Well—of course!”

 

Jongin narrows his eyes at her not-so-convincing retort.

 

“What?” She looks at him flatly. “Well, it doesn’t matter, okay? Now just tell me what are you going to do to repay for the lost of my ball, and I’ll think about it whether it does me justice or—“

“Let’s race.” He says, not averting his gaze from her shock expression.

“What?”

He chuckles and bends down to re-tie his shoelaces. “Why are you so fond of asking ‘what’?” Standing up again, he grins. “I said, let’s race.”

She goes silent for a mere second. “It won’t be fair! It’s not even fair from the beginning where it’s you,” she emphasizes the ‘you’ word by pointing at him accusingly, “you are the one who messed things up. Why do I have to shed sweats for something that’s not my fault?”

“Nu-uh,” he shakes his head, “it wouldn’t be like that if you, woman, didn’t throw your so-called precious ball on me when I was dreaming of kimchi spaghetti.” He raises his eyebrow, “Wait, was it really Gareth Bale’s sign on the ball? I highly doubt that—“

“You don’t—ugh, but still! It’s not fair! You’re a boy and I’m a girl and gentlemen don’t race the opposite gender.” She huffs. “Or, are you really one? I highly doubt that, mister.” She raises her eyebrow and she really got him there.

 

Jongin then takes his time to think when another idea pops into his mind.

 

“Okay, okay.” He puts both his hands up in surrender. “So, what exactly do you want me to do?”

 

She stares back and honestly, she doesn’t really know what he must do in return for that precious birthday gift from her ex.

 

“Uh,” she thinks, “What do you think?”

 

Jongin wants to gulp the nonexistent lump in his throat when he looks at her pouting. It’s like, pouting, is this girl being serious? One moment she acts like she could swallow him up in a piece by yelling and not to mention her death glare while one moment she acts like, this.

 

He sighs. “Okay. Just, uhm, I said yesterday that I would sign you a ball, right? What do you say?”

“Excuse me.” She looks at him. “Really? What is it with you?”

“What?” He says as he begins walking to his bag. “Ah, anyway, I left the ball at my house, which is not so far from here.”

“W—wait.” She laughs sarcastically. “Are you being serious?”

He blinks and he’s already finished packing up his stuffs. “Pretty much? Come on, this way.”

 

He walks away, leaving her dumbfounded, when one second later everything feels like a déjà vu.

 

“H—HEY! WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND PULLING HAIR?!” He yells as he tries to break through, again.

“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THAT BALL IS FOR ME.” She cries desperately.

“WELL, OF COURSE I DON’T! I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME! MOREOVER THE HISTORY OF THAT BALL! COULDN’T YOU LET GO OF ME FIRST?!” He cries back and this time he really feels like he’s going to be bald. The force she puts on his hands is much stronger and there literally are tears at the edge of his eyes.

 

They bicker and they finally break apart after more bawling and wailing.

 

“You washed your hair.” She mumbles, sipping into her lemonade.

“Oh.” He curtly replies. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about your loss.” She mumbles again.

He grimaces, feeling sudden pain both on his head and in his heart. He nods. “I’m sorry about yours too.”

 

They fall silent; she lets out a heavy sigh and he notices a tear is threatening to fall from her eye.

 

“It’s… it’s a gift from my ex and,” she looks down, “I just. Uhm, sorry.”

 

He wants to reach for her, but his upper limb feels numb out of the blue. So he stays, glancing over her way from the side.

 

“And I just love Bale so much.” She mumbles again later, and he smiles unknowingly.

He coughs and he takes a sip of his lemonade, before he speaks. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t know it would turn out that way, and, I really don’t know how to make it up to you.”

 

She snorts and rolls her eyes.

 

“Except, by signing a ball for you.” He mumbles again, and she really wants to pour all of her lemonade at him.

“You’re really signing a ball for me?” She asks, instead of doing that pouring thingy. “I mean, why?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Football is not my thing, but I have some balls back at home because it’s impossible to sign at a pair of running shoes, right?”

He answers honestly and she’s really at lost. She lets out a chuckle and this time it feels real, unlike her bitter ones. “Wait. So you’re being serious?”

Jongin tilts his head and nods. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

 

She begins laughing uncontrollably and finally goes silent later on without him knowing what’s so wrong with him signing. He did that several times, anyway, for some juniors who claimed their selves as his fans. Not that he complains, though, he loves the attention.

 

“Anyway, I gotta go.” She says, standing up and throwing the empty glass of lemonade into the nearest bin.

“This early?” He blinks, standing up too. “I mean, you haven’t even run or something.”

“Uhm, I have somewhere to go. Anyway,” she averts her gaze from her phone into a car that’s halting in front of them. “I think we’re over this problem, because I’m not actually fond of your signature or something. So,” she smiles up to him and he swears there’s something wrong with the lemonade or else he wouldn’t get tachycardia like this. “Bye!”

 

In the midst of her combing her hair with her delicate fingers and him trying to press down the increasing pulse rate, he finds his voice again and calls for her.

 

“Will you come again tomorrow?”

 

She stares back at him and she can feel sudden distention within her abdomen. She falls silent and he really regrets for talking without thinking beforehand. He’s busy cursing at himself when he feels warmth at the perks of his ears and it’s not the sun.

 

She smiles. “Maybe.”

 

He smiles and he begins to admit that he likes this summer even more because of specific someone, although he curses at himself again after he returns home for not asking her name back then.

He promises to himself that he’ll know her name by tomorrow.

 

-

 

Jongin goes up to the field 15 minutes earlier and he even washed his hair again today. One thing for sure, he didn’t have his breakfast today because he had been eyeing this dimsum stall since day one.

 

“Is it nice?” He asks.

She takes a big mouthful of baozi and nods wholeheartedly. “Take a bite!” She mumbles with full mouth. “Thank God I only ate a bit of this morning breakfast.”

 

He pokes the side of his dish and finally takes it into his mouth. She looks at him expectantly. She even wiggles her eyebrows when he finally chews several times.

 

“Nice, isn’t it?”

He chews hesitantly before finally he feels the taste filling up his mouth. He nods by then. “Not bad.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges his forehead. “It’s you who eagerly wanted to try this one, if you forgot already.”

 

He shrugs nonchalantly and takes another ha gow.

 

Hours after that, they’re found bickering again under that big tree at his corner – again, about the now resting-in-peace ball.

 

“You really are an ” She sulks before trudging away.

“Where are you going?” He shouts, yet his is still glued not moving away.

“Home.” She yells back, not sparing him a second glance.

He stands up abruptly. “What?! Again?! So you’re coming here only for eating?!”

 

She simply ignores him and waves a hand.

He shrinks back to his current place and could only scratches his head in confusion.

And once again, he fails to know her name when on the other hand, she already told him hours of her and her Gareth Bale obsession, which led to a fight between them in the end.

 

“Will you come again tomorrow?” He asks, more like a shout, because she’s already on the other side of the field.

 

He’s not sure, whether she says yes or the opposite, but she’s not looking back again.

Maybe she didn’t hear him asking after all.

 

-

 

He jogs around the field for 10 times already – already broke his record for the week, then the sun is getting higher in the sky, and the lemonade stand officers have changed shifts, yet she’s nowhere to be seen.

Jongin starts to wonder if he really crossed the line yesterday by nonchalantly saying ‘when the ball is getting stepped by the truck and loses its soul, it means you guys are really not meant to be, just like you and your ex who gave you the ball. You should learn to let go and move on.’

He groans and fastens his pace; the song is no longer soothing like it used to.

 

-

 

It’s Thursday and he just went back from a meeting appointment with his school athletic team. He sighs in distaste as he walks up to the field only to buy a glass of lemonade, without his training shorts and running shoes. Not even his iPod.

 

“What’s with the long face?” Kyungsoo, the second shift officer asks.

Jongin shrugs “Gotta stepped my feet at school during the summer. Yuck, isn’t it.”

Kyungsoo laughs and hands him his glass. “Anyway, the girl is here earlier.”

Jongin almost spurts out the drink but he manages to keep it inside his mouth. He swallows hard. “Wh—who?”

Kyungsoo narrows his judging wide eyes as he hands another customer their drinks. He mouths ‘thank you’ and even smiles at the middle-aged woman politely before continues judging Jongin. “Well done, Jongin. Well done. She’s pretty and her long hair makes her even prettier and her shoes are really eye catching and not to mention her long legs—“

 

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence when he feels a smack on his lemonade-glass-shaped cap.

 

“She looked like she’s looking for someone, by the way.” Kyungsoo continues, counting the money he got for his shift. “And, she kept on looking at your corner, before she finally went away after a tiny guy with a car appeared, approaching her.”

Jongin eyes perk up at the mention of his corner and a tiny guy. “What? Who’s that?”

“Why would I know?” Kyungsoo asks as a matter of fact. “Ah, I’m going to the beach with the others. You sure you’re not coming?”

Jongin scoffs, “I hope the sun burns down your milky back.”

“You’re just jealous.” He retorts back, folding his apron along with his cap neatly. “I’ll send your greetings to Chanyeol. Bye, hopeless douche.”

 

Jongin wants to smack him down but he’s already running away mockingly. He swears he’d laugh his off when he sees the so-called best friend with burnt face when he sees him two days later.

One thing interferes him from sleeping early though – she came today.

 

-

 

“I see you’re actually running today.”

 

Her heart almost leaps out of her ribcage when she feels another presence by her side, running and creepily grinning with bouncing hair at his every jog.

 

“Hello.” He greets and waves at her.

 

She sighs and rolls her eyes, then ignoring would be the best term to describe her work the whole 3 laps that morning.

 

“Aren’t you tired of running with blabbering non-stop?” She asks, gulping down her bottle. She’s sprawled over the grass, mentally thanking the big tree that’s cover her eyes from the radiating UV.

She’s almost drifted to sleep when she feels a nudge on her side. Lazily, she opens her eyes to see him preparing himself to take a rest too. “Move aside.” He orders, as she’s too tired to complain, she drags her body to the edge a bit.

 

They fall silent and again, she’s about to drifting off when she hears him speaking.

 

“I’m sorry about the other day. I wasn’t thinking beforehand, and I gotta admit I really was an .” He tilts his head to see her staring back. She thinks it’s the tiredness taking her over when she sees his tan skin is glowing perfectly under the sun. She gulps. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

 

She manages to nod, and quickly looks away to the tree over them again. Actually, she doesn’t have any idea of what he’s talking about and what he feels sorry about. She’s too busy calming herself down. This is what you got for forcing yourself too much in running; she scolds herself mentally for the irregular pattern of pulse rate.

 

“Anyway, I haven’t known your name.” He says, eyes focusing at a line of ants marching on the branch.

 

Sensing no answer from the latter, he looks to the side to see her sleeping soundlessly. His heart tightens, and he can only manages to smile over her sleeping face until he falls asleep as well.

 

Jongin only wakes up when the spot besides him is no longer occupied but only flattened green grass. He sits up and sees her from a distance. He smiles at first but he immediately stands up when she almost falls.

 

“Hey—wait.” He grasps both her arms from behind and a speeding bicycle could’ve crashed her if he doesn't get her steady from behind. “Are you crazy?!” Even it’s only a bicycle, but who can predict the damage it may cause, right? He yells and walks to her front.

 

Stained cheeks and puffy eyes – has she been crying?

 

She keeps on looking below, not wanting to meeting his eyes although she can’t keep herself to stop crying.

 

He calls her softly. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

Soon, her cries go louder and he’s at lost of what to do until action finally speaks louder than words when he embraces her in his arms. His hand caresses her long hair and the other hand tightens around her. People don’t really look their way thanks to the deserted corner; yet, Jongin is still panicking inside, afraid of what people might think about what he had done to make this girl in his hug crying.

 

Thirty good minutes and they got cramps all over their legs for standing in such uncomfortable position – her head bends over slightly to cry her eyes out to get his tee damp, one of his hand keeps on soothing her hair and one around her shoulder.

 

“I think I can’t feel my legs again.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up. I thought you run everyday.”

“Running has nothing to do with cramps, for your information.” He states, and she just ignores him by looking away.

He looks at her stained cheeks that reflect the setting down sun. “Here, take this.”

She turns her head to see a blue small towel. It has Pororo on the edge. She couldn't help but snorts, although she meant it to be a chuckle. “Pororo. Really.”

 

Instead of retorting, he shoves the towel into her face and wipes her cheeks roughly.

 

“Sl—slow down!” She says, fidgeting under the assault of the towel. “You’re really an .” Sulking, she snatches the towel and glares at him, before slowly wiping her cheeks herself. Funny, his towel smells mint not sweats or other unpleasant scents.

 

He just shrugs and lies back on the tree, watching the children playing hide and seek from afar.

 

“I’m not gonna ask you for what happened earlier,” he suddenly speaks. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me sooner or later, right?” He winks at her blank face.

She stares at him, deeply, before throwing his towel back to his face. “Your towel smells.”

 

He laughs and it falls silent after that. No one speaks and it’s getting more comfortable when they lay besides each other. The safe distance between them is still kept, and their slow breathing is in the same pace.

 

“My ex.” She starts, voice hoarse. “He decided to stop anything between us.”

He blinks and replies nonchalantly. “I thought everything has to be stopped the time he’s become your ex?” Then a split second after that he realizes he’s not supposed to ask. “Sorry.”

She laughs and this time it sounds sincere. “Don’t be.” She unlocks her phone to reveal a picture of her and her so-called ex, he assumes, standing besides each other with his arm around her shoulder. “It’s him.”

 

He’s about the same height with Kyungsoo, but she still looks kind of petite standing besides him. They smile brightly to the camera and she sure smiles the brightest on that picture. He averts his gaze from the screen to her face – sad smile plastered on her lips.

 

“Do you still love him?” That question comes out offhandedly and once again he curses himself for spluttering out words without filtering them. “Ugh. Sorry again.”

She stares at the picture and grazes her hand over the boy’s face. Her gaze softens and she shakes her head. “I think I don’t. I mean, not anymore.”

 

He looks at her from the side. How her eyes twitch sometimes, how her pink lips quirk up at the mention of the first time they met, how her cheek turns crimson when she tells him about their first date, and how she looks back at him with her dark orbs glinting as she recalls their break up.

 

Slowly, he reaches out to her and brings her head to his shoulder, and the story telling feels more comfortable.

 

“Now tell me about you.” She says cheerfully, eyes no longer polished with tears. “Do you have a girlfriend? Don’t you get tired of running? Why did you want to sign a ball for me, are you possibly an athlete or a trainee somewhere waiting to debut? What’s your name again?”

He yawns and pushes her gently from his shoulder, stands up, and pulls her hands that she’s standing on her legs again. “It’s getting late so you better go home.” Seeing her staring back at him in an annoyed manner, he chuckles and ruffles her hair. “You smell, go take a long refreshing bath and rest.”

“Fine.” She sighs and gathers her earphones and gadgets. She turns to go and says a curt ‘bye’ to him, which he replies with an answer that makes her stomach twists and a twisting intestine knot will only lead to one thing: she drank too much lemonades that day.

 

(She doesn’t want to admit that it’s crush or love or something cheesy like that when it probably is. Probably.)

 

“I really enjoyed spending today with you, so please, come again tomorrow, will you?”

 

She didn’t reply, but he knew that he needs to buy a new shampoo because he’ll wash his hair more frequent considering the fact that tomorrow and more days after, he’ll be running even more wholeheartedly.

(Because this specific someone would mock him to die if he ever lost on his upcoming match. Not that he complaining, though. Not even when the fact she only runs out of desperation and since she’s quote, let go and moved on, she only goes to the field to eat dimsum afterwards.)

 

“Anyway, I haven’t got your name!” He yells again, even she already reached the other side of the field.

 

She smiles and turns around, he’s really invisible without the post lamp shining over the corner. Poor dark kid, she notes mentally.

 

“Soojung.”

“What?” He yells again.

Few dogs bark their way and Jongin yells at them innocent souls too. “Shut up. I can’t hear her.” He turns to her again. “What’s. Your. Name?”

“It’s Soojung, moron!” She yells back, and he grins.

 

Soojung, it feels right on his tongue.

 

“I’m Jongin! Nice to know you!” He shouts again and waves.

 

“I know.” She mumbles before turning on her heels again, trudging away to home.

 

Jongin, also, packs his stuffs and trudges the opposite way.

They can’t wait for what’s going to happen tomorrow, and they’re thankful that summer has just begun.

---

a/n: i should be studying