Three: OF FRAGMENTS

The moment after I had comforted Kris - and, simultaneously, myself - was both uncomfortable and awkward. And as I stood outsite the bathroom waiting for him to dry himself off, eventually dawned on me that I had just hugged a complete stranger. Yet, somehow, it felt completely natural.

I supposed that was what inevitably linked  human beings together - the helplessness within a person that made her gravitate towards him, the common experience, a similar heartache that never dulled. Kris eventually emerged from the bathroom, his shirt and hair both damp and I glanced up at him cautiously.

"You alright there?"

He shrugged, "Been better."

And then ensued a silence that was almost palpable, for we were two individuals who did not know each other well enough to use words to fill up the silence. I shifted uneasily from one foot to another, and he eventually cleared his throat. "I, uh.." he started hesitantly, avoiding my gaze. 

"I think you should go." 

An unusual twinge of disappointment surged through me, although the cause for it was so unclear, I quickly nodded and say. "Okay."

I follow him downstairs and refused when he offered me a ride home, "I don't live that far away. I'll just take the bus." He still looked rather hesitant and I hastened to assure him, "I'll be fine. Don't worry." 

Kris nodded, "I'll see you around then." 

Nodding, I bade him a quick goodbye and when I had just pass the threshold of the door, his voice suddenly made me stop from walking. 

"Dee, I - ugh.." I looked back and saw how his shoulders was tensed, as if it took him an effort to force the words out of his mouth, his eyes were soft and unguarded. "Thanks." 

Something tugged me in and I found myself turning back to him, "Give me your phone." I said, my palm outstretched and lifted towards him. His eyebrows shot up, but he dug around in the pocket of his trousers at the same time before fishing out a sleep white cell. Kris pushed it into my hand, our fingertips brushing briefly.

Studying the phone, I tentatively pressed the button at the buttom and the screen lightened up. A picture of Kris and a brunette came into view. She was a vision of beauty, her eyes practically sparkled, her full lips that shapes in a perfect cupid's bow. His arms wrapped around her; they seemed utterly blissful.

I knew without asking that she was the infamous Jessica, the one whom Kris held in so high regard, the one whom Chanyeol and Dara recognised had ruined his life. A keypad flashed on the screen and I handed the phone back to Kris for him to key in his password but he shrugged.

"One-Two-Eight-Eight-" Kris informed me simply.

I keyed in the numbers in, my mind reeling with two newfound revelations; One - that I had just seen Jessica and Two - that was Kris' alarmingly naive. He didn't have any qualms giving me his passcode, and his full blind faith in Jessica's goodness eventually began to make sense to me. When I was done entering my cell number into his contact list, I passed the phone back to him. 

"Don't prank call me." I warned Kris light-heartedly, a teasing smile on my face. "And you can only call me if you're A. Dying or B. Not being an ."

He nodded silently as he pocketed his phone, and I watched him for a moment or two before doing something that completely surprised the both of us. Winding my arms around him, I pulled him into a hug, again my action is closing the gap between us.

"You're going to be alright." I told him, my words muffled against his chest.

He kept silent but I felt his palms side up to rest against the small portion of my back, his soft unsteady breaths against my hair as he pulled me tighter against his chest. His grip was painful, almost demanding, it yielded a certain sense of desperation that I felt in its force. But I let him hold me for a moment or two, before eventually pulling back. "You're going to be fine." I repeated softly. "I promise." 

Letting my words linger in the still air, I left, feeling the heavy intense gaze of his eyes boring two holes into my back until I passed the driveway.   

The sound of my cell vibrating against the hard wood of my desk woke me up midway through the following night. Mentally cursing for being such a rather light-sleeper, I my side, wondering who could possibly be on the other line at such ungodly hour of the night - or morning, as soon as I realised when I flicked the switch of the bedside lamp and saw the luminous glow of my alarm clock. 3:22 am. 

Stifling a groan, I reached for my phone and pressed it to my ear, opening my mouth to rasp a tired hello, but the other person spoke before I could. 

"Listen, I know you said not to call you ever again, but please, just hear me out. Don't cut me off, just listen." 

The voice was vaguely familiar and as my mind gradually cleared, I came to realise that it wasn't just anybody on the other end of the line. It was Kris, and he had dialled my number by accident. He thought he was talking to Jessica.

And maybe I was being a terrible person listening to every words that were never meant for me to begin with. Listening to a boy bare his heart, a boy I almost knew nothing off. But I kept quiet and listened all the same. Sometimes, that was