I honestly have no idea when or how it started.

I can’t even remember what date it was that one summer morning when I’d woken up to Sehun’s good morning message (he sends me those all the time) and realized that my heart was beating a little too fast for the given situation.

After all, it was just a stupid text from an annoying brat, right?

Yeah, right.

I never really thought about it much before that morning and at that time, I’d known Sehun for years, and yeah, okay. I admit, I have eyes, so I know that he’s handsome. Painfully handsome. But being childhood friends with one of the hottest guys you’d ever met had to mean that you’d appreciate his beauty from time to time.

But that morning, it was just a text. Just a couple of words, not even one emoji. Not him sitting next to me, smiling with that crescent-eyed smile of his, not him sitting close to me that his words rumbled inside my chest as he wished me a good morning.

But that’s how I felt. And that’s how I realized something wasn’t quite right.

Not much was different. We were still friends and still hang out all the time. Sunday is still “our” day. He still likes to tickle and hug-attack and me and I still feel like I’m having a heart attack every time instead.

The difference is that I now, I know it’s not because he catches me by surprise.

I  have been trying my best not to act differently around him since my little realization, and I think I can proudly say that I’ve been doing a pretty good job. Maybe I should have tried to become an actress instead of going to university. But then, it means that I wouldn’t have time with Sehun anymore if I had, so, I guess university has its advantages, too.

With Sehun, you have no idea what is going on until you’re neck-deep in it. It doesn’t matter if it’s being friends with him or being in love with him. The realization always comes too late and you can’t fight it, even if you wanted to. And I didn’t.

I would always rather take whatever he could give me than not have him at all.

I have my good days and bad days, of course. Sometimes weeks could pass and I’d still be fine, perfectly content with being just friends with him, enjoying his company and being grateful for having him in my life. But then a bad day comes and I’m not sure who I want to kill more: him for managing to be the most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on by just being sprawled on my couch and existing, or me, for noticing it and wanting nothing more than to hug and kiss the out of him.

Yeah, bad days.

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