11th of August

The next day exactly, Yifan arranged to meet up at 'our hideout', also known as the Modern Art Gallery by Artist Sun-Hee, M.A.G by A.S.H or the 'Magash'-- the playful man of a critic likes alternatives for words and just thinks it boosts his light humor. But he still just calls me Baekhyun or occasionally Byun Baekhyun upon pestering me for my family name.

That is how I ended up on that same creatively designed chair, a tiny smudge of chocolate on the edge of my mouth as we shared a box of the expensive and admittedly delicious dessert.

I sat partly on the centered logo as he sat on the other half, unlike the first time where we inhabited the corners. Yifan snuck in the fancy chocolates from work, he claimed, as apparently critics get these kinds of things very often for their hard work 'being picky snobs' (his words, not mine). I argued, a lot, saying how I didn't eat sweets and it was just too much for me so early in the afternoon plus are all of those milk chocolate? and to the point that I was threatening to tell on him to the security about him eating in the gallery. At one point, however, Yifan seemed to have given up and I was replied with a "suit yourself" when I expected more, ready to say how many pounds I'd gain exaggeratedly and what? 

I forgot that not everyone was very pushy and determined to get me to do things and try out the flavors of life as you were. My bad. 

It had a reverse effect on me and in a few minutes, I was whining that I chose the seashell one before he did and it was mine and he can have the ugly swirly one. Needless to say, he didn't let in easily on that one and we split it in half grudgingly. After that, the spots were the beautifully carved ones once were were gone and the plain circles and shapes remained on the outlining row, I reached over to pick one up only to find out he was as well and our fingers brushed. For a second there, I felt like a silly schoolgirl, no grown adult, yet alone, a man should feel this way- however I must be feeling- because of mere contact. I feel strangely comforted though when I know he feels it as well.

Yifan chuckles and laces our fingers upon contact, bringing it up to his mouth as if to bite it like he had picked up a piece of the sweets. Even saying something along the lines of, "Tastes sweeter than the rest of the chocolates," with that grin of his.

With many attempts to pull my hand out of his grip and desperate, "Stop it. You're acting like a child," and "Yifan! We are in public, idiot."

He pauses then, raising his eyebrows and giving me a suggestive yet faint smirk, "So am I not allowed to eat these delicious fingers, I mean, chocolates in public now?" Yet the lingering question of what he was really implying and what I could have been implying lingered in the air.

I refused to look at him out of sheer embarrassment but when I mustered up the courage to do so, I could see that his eyes reflected the same unsureness as mine. I withdrew my hand then because his lips brushing my fingers as he acted as if he was eating them up was just too comforting and discomforting at the same time. And partly, I didn't want to know how those plump lips of his felt. 

When we finished up eating, leaning half on the chair and half on each other with the box dangling dangerously on the edges of our knees, slightly slanted due to your height differences, I muttered a quiet, "My landlord is going to make me pay double now if he finds out." 

"If he finds out," Yifan emphasized and sent me a grin, scooping up the box and evidence of our deviance and shutting it before forcing it to fold in half, "But he won't." 

He then stood up, making me straighten up my posture, before tossing the now small, crumpled box in the trash can, making me roll my eyes, "He can track done or finger prints on that and there may be cameras--" 

"Then we'll be in deep trouble," the male said with a roll of his eyes and an almost playful grin, "I'll bribe him with chocolates if he does magically find out. Or good feed back on his apartments or this gallery." 

"Resourceful, aren't you?" I ask and get to my feet, my lips to wipe off the lingering sweet taste of the hazelnut chocolate. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Yifan gestures for me to follow him as he strides up the stairs with his long legs, "Come on," he says as I follow behind him with my regrettably shorter pair. 

"I don't have two yard sticks taped together for legs, okay?" I say with a huff at his amused expression as he waits for me at the top, earning a loud laugh from him then which I glare at him to keep down. 

He parts his lips for a snide comeback but I interrupt it sharply, "No feedback on that," I say as I finally get on the landing of the second floor, he just smiles then in that almost giddy way. 

Yifan seems to almost take pleasure in how rash I am acting due to how embarrassed and worked up he made me feel, holding out his hand for me which I take with small scraps of hesitation before I'm almost pulled behind him towards the area with the windows and the balcony over the first floor. Our last stop last time before we almost got locked in.

Everything about this man is just 'almost'. 

"Yifan?" I ask then, the question surfacing a bit tardy as we then lean over the railing, hands still intertwined somewhat yet loosely this time. 

"Mm?" he asks, eyes fixated on the buildings through the window, yet seemingly looking through them and to a whole different scene. 

I pause and keep my gaze on him till he eventually looks at me, feeling odd talking to him now when his eyes are not focused on me,

"Yes, Baekhyun?" he inquires again, holding my gaze. I feel a bit silly yet comforted now that his attention is on me yet kind of shy as my question is of no pressing importance really,

"What's with you and the 'if' thing?" He seems a bit confused as his gaze wavers between my two eyes so I explain, "You said it the other day as well, 'if'.." 

His lips then curl into a half-smile then and he looks away again, fingers stretching over my hand then in their hold, grazing the skin before bending so that the tips rest on my knuckles. 

I pause, giving him time to respond as I watch the movements of his fingers before looking back at him questioningly. 

"Life," he starts with a small sigh, "is both fortunately and unfortunately very unexpected. It is at the sides of both spectrums of everything, on both extremes as it is just so diverse. It's just so much bigger than us and so out of our control. No one knows what turn will bring what ,or when the turn will even happen and you just have to create those turns yourself sometimes. You can't just sit and watch life do its thing, you have to be an active role in everything you do." 

I didn't see how that connected to the question but I stayed quiet, tasting the words he was giving me thoughtfully and just to encourage him, a soft squeeze on his hand was given. He smiled then a bit and turned to me once again, I've never expected to see him almost vulnerable, out of all the almost in this moment. Though still calm and composed, his stocky brick wall seems to reveal some evidence of unevenness.

"It's beautiful and ugly at the same time, but you have to accept it. There is no way around being played by it. You know?" 

I slowly nod my head, because I do know and I do understand, my whole life has been straight lines on a graph and dandy weather until it just soared past how happy I could have ever expected to be and over the course of years, then slammed all the way down past how much pain I have ever expected myself to be in. Yet I'm still here. 

Because though the line on the graph seems to be gone past the paper itself in the quantity of pain, I can see it itching back up now. 

He doesn't speak then and I lean my body next to his, shoulder against his forearm, as if lending him my will in order for him to continue, to get back that wholly calm and serene attitude, "Why are you giving me a history lesson, Yifan?" I ask quietly yet with a small smile, remembering how he prodded me ask such before today.

It was exactly what I needed then to brighten the mood and help him pick up his words. He then grinned and bumped his shoulder against mine, "You are getting better at this, aren't you?" Yifan replied with a small chuckle as he then moved his arms so that our hands dangled over the railing, still intertwined and whole together. 

"You've taught me well," I said with a small laugh as well, looking down at our hands that hang over the first floor landing before back up to the taller male, nudging him a bit with my shoulder, "Now answer me." 

"Well, due to life's unexpected and expected acts and it being on both ends of the scale in every possibility," he gathers what he first said, making eye contact, "'If' becomes my favorite word. It's built for every turn and occasion, for everything that life throws at your statement. Because is shows that there can be many other outcomes; If the world implodes and I cannot see Baekhyun or hear his wonderful laugh again, I will be ultimately upset, If a freak accident happens and this gallery bursts into flames and I cannot tell Baekhyun how often he runs around in my head with those shorter legs of his--" 

"Hey--" 

"If Baekhyun lets go of my hand, I will cry myself to sleep," he adds and I exhale, regaining my hold on his hand that I was slowly starting to loosen, "If life has been cruel to me before, I want to apologize for thinking little of it because Byun Baekhyun, everybody." 

It comes to me that I've never told him my full name, figuring he's just picked it up somewhere, I sigh once again and bump my arm with his lightly, shaking my head then as I lean against him so that my head sort of nuzzles against him, "If Yifan continues to tease me, I will leave his cheesy arse here alone at Magash." It's so strange, frightening, pleasant and thrilling all at once, this warm rush when he tells me these things and reveals how important I could be to him. I feel different because I no longer try to run away from it, I just let it be. 

Ever since I've decided to just let my cracks be filled, it's been easier to face him. To talk to him. To smile. To share that ephemeral happiness I know I will wake up from soon. 

"Well, if Baek leaves me all alone here, I might just end up talking up some sculpture and smooching it till security have to drag me out, sobbing hysterically," the male says as if it's a serious matter, shifting closer to me as I seem to try to rest my arm against his, filling in the gap between us as we stand side by side. 

"Probably be nice, kissing such a work of art with your own two lips," I say with a small laugh, not intending anything but that as I then straighten up a bit as I try to blow the hair out of my face. 

Warm, long fingers then meet mine, elaborately pushing the strands away from my face as if with perfect , "I don't know, you tell me, alright? I'll tell you as well," he said with a smile full of suggestions and implications and is he really taking it that far? 

Him leaning closer even if it is just a bit really does answer my question.

I roll my eyes, though I have been working on letting him in, this is just too much and although a deep part of me finds it sweet and wants to agree, that part is hidden behind a lot of layers.

"Enough," I pull away from him so the gap between is evident once again, loosening my hold on his hand as I pull my arm back. Face obviously displaying some sign of discomfort, hands now just barely clasping one another by our sides, safely behind the railing. 

I don't know why there's a pang of betrayal that he's taken it this far and to this degree. Though I couldn't really say it was unexpected. Hand-holding and leaning on one another while frequently teasing each other is really pushing it with friendship, especially on a guy's part. 

I wonder what I would have seen in those almond eyes had I had the courage to look up at them at that point in time. Would they have reflected betrayal like I was feeling? Hurt? Anger? Shame? Or just the amused look that they so casually wear? 

I think I'm fortunate that the glass of the window was too far away to fully clarify my notions. 

"You have chocolate on your chin," he says, and it's so vague and lacks so much explanation and flow of what he's been saying that I just want to yell. 

The fingers of his free hand reach out to help me with it but I shake him away, using my collar to get to it blindly as I just scoff, Pathetic save.

"And no," he says, as if once again reading my thoughts, or maybe I just mumbled them out loud, "That was not some cliche backup plan. I would not like for my feelings to be hidden from you, though you aren't nearly thick enough to not see them." 

I let go off his hand then and he seems to take no notice of it as he continues to just look at me in the most simplest of ways yet I feel all bare all of a sudden. Due to the fact that I wasn't oblivious to them at all, though the man is so placid about everything- even if he found a T-Rex in his backyard and found out Halloween was celebrating pine cones or that Friday the 13th was on a Sunday (something I'd imagine you to say, took me a whole minute to come up with something as witty)- anyone could see how open he is about how he feels about someone. He (might) have even admitted it bluntly this morning and last evening. 

"I like you," Yifan said in the most humble manner that it seemed like something normal for a man to say to me while we were in one another's embrace either outside a tacky diner or in a amateur art exhibition.

It seemed right. At the moment, I was content and- could you believe it? - almost happy when the words were spoken. Yifan likes me and that is nothing wrong, I thought, so I just nodded quietly and let him like me as much as he wanted to. 

Thinking it over though the night before and right now, it is after all fickle, I'm just catching his nonchalant disease. Or just hiding my over thinking one. Whichever.

Everything is just normal. 

"I knew you weren't going for that anyway, Baekhyun" Yifan then says with a fraction of a shrug.

What am I going for, you reckon?

I shrug lamely then in reply, feeling strange at how he can just climb into my being and sense all of its replies and responses as well as thoughts. 

"Should we head out then?" 

We walk then through the gallery and we've seen every inch of it so much that we don't even look at it anymore as we stroll past, hands brushing a couple of times before they finally find one another's and hold each other loosely. 

At some point, we're out in the open, passing by the receptionist where I withdraw my hand almost bashfully just because. Even if this is just friendship, I can see the knowing eyes that stray above us, knowing we met here and knowing it was due to her we met again. 

Then at another point, we're with our backs to his cream, expensive ride and he turns to me so swiftly with a pressing inquiry, "Hyunbaek?" 

Oh yeah, that's another one to add to his list of fabricated names. 

"Hm?" I reply, nodding my head, somewhat alerted by his tone.

"I was thinking," Yifan explained, seemingly gathering his words before almost blurting, "Remember that time at Dine or Do?" 

I begin to nod my head before I realize he isn't waiting for an answer, "Well," he begins once again, "When you said that I had to argue that there is more to a painting than the color and material, what were you referring to? It's been in my head ever since you've said it. It's the most I've seen you talk and be so passionate about something, I'm just curious what lucky object, person or place gets the honor." 

I backtrack a bit to that time and then drop my head a bit with a small wrinkle of my nose because he's being cheesy again in that casual way and I must have been so fired up, I gave way for our mysterious alias-made painting somehow. 

"It's sort of a long story," I say after a bit, wavering on whether to actually tell him that long story or keep it at that. 

He quirks one of his perfect brows that sit over those clear eyes, not verbally pushing me any further but I exhale anyway. 

"Like really long," I reply, fingers skimming over the well-kept exterior of the Cadillac, as if it was totally normal to touch other people's cars like that. 

"I think we've got sufficient time," the man replies with a hint of a grin.

"I could show you. But you'll have to figure it out on your own."

"I think I'm doing good on uncovering the mysteries revolving you, Hyunbaek." 

"Too good for your own good." 

"Too many 'goods' in that sentence, get in my car already."

"I can say the word as many times as I wish, creep." 

"Says the one caressing my vehicle, come on."

"Who says 'vehicle' anymore---"

"Oh and by the way, that chocolate? It's still on your chin."