If

Junior year, February.

"So, where are you heading to? Wanna go out to grab lunch?"

I watch as you toddle down the hall tiredly while rubbing your eyes fervently. I hang my head low in embarrassment, thinking back to just fifteen minutes ago when we had met eyes. I just had to let my eyes linger on you for the whole lesson, didn't I? Now, I've ruined the first impression you have of me. It's a good thing I only got a mild scolding and not a full-out lashing.

It's not the first time that I've been staring at you in class. I'm lucky that the teacher only caught me twice and both times, he thought I was staring at someone else. It's still unbelievable to me that we're in the same class. I remember walking into the lecture hall and seeing you sitting by yourself in the middle row, ransacking through your bag. I'd stopped so suddenly and Zitao had bumped into me, smacking me to get me out of my trance. He had insisted sitting in the front row with our girl classmates but I had murmured that I was going to sit in the back, never taking my eyes off you till you turned. I'd scurried up while Zitao yelled behind me, saying to wait, and I had ducked my head in fear of attracting your attention.

It's laughable, isn't it? When I'd gotten back the results of my allocated subject combination, I'd wondered if we'd get into the same class. Then, I'd laughed, because I have no clue what in the world you would choose. Maybe you'd choose the arts stream, maybe you'd be a hybrid student, or perhaps a sciences student like me, but the fact that I've liked you for two years and I still don't know anything about you is saddening.

"Homie. Bro. You there, buddy?" Zitao's face invades my line of sight just as you disappear down the corner. I bury my hands into my hoodie pockets and sigh quietly. "Sorry, what?"

"Dude. I asked if you wanna get," Zitao pauses and sings in a high-pitched shriek, "Pastaaaaaa." He excitedly patters his feet. "Seriously, Yashino has awesome pasta. And their toilets are so clean I just had to poop there, even though I didn't need to."

"Yeah, I'm not going," I return nonchalantly, to which Zitao whimpers. "Pwease? Hwayoung is going, and you know she and Jiho just broke it off. Help a bro score here; you know how much she's a fan of you after last year's game. She's going to think I'm as cool as you if I bring you along."

"Nah. Don't wanna dupe her."

"Bastard," Zitao laughs. "Come on. Sehun's coming."

I rub my neck and decisively shake my head. "No, thanks. I need to practise my shooting." I wonder where you went.

Zitao pouts but relents with a sigh, tugging at his bag straps. "Loner. But I guess that's your," he does a peace sign and juts out his hip like an overly avid anime school girl, "concept!"

"Bye."

Zitao cackles behind me as I turn, walking off. I spare him a small smile, amused, before walking down to the library.

You looked really tired in class these few weeks. I heard that the publishing team's taking on both the theatre play and the singing competition's posters, and as the design head, you must be under a lot of pressure.

I can't keep my eyes off you during class. How can I, when I've been waiting for this moment for so long? When it comes to you, it's always glimpses, blinks, a flutter of the lashes and then, you're gone. Now, I sit three rows behind you, maintaining that same distance every time your seat's taken and you change places. I watch as you glance down at your worksheets, writing neatly and squirming restlessly every now and then. I'm scared to go any closer because it's always been like this, and I'm not sure what would happen if I took that step forward.

You're always sitting in the school garden on your own, doing your homework or tapping away on your laptop. I thought maybe you were the only one from your class who takes literature, but I learnt two other boys are from your class when the teacher called you three out for a rescheduling of lessons. I assumed you weren't close with them but that's not true either; I've seen them talking with you and hanging out after class. Why do you spend your breaks alone, then? Don't you get hungry?

I pat my stomach, grimacing as it lets out a growl. I usually can't go without food for more than a few hours, but I keep skipping lunch so I can sit with you at the garden. Well, if sitting ten metres away can be considered 'sitting with you'. Honestly, I've been kind of nervous you'd find out I was... following you, so I've been ducking around the pillars whenever you lookup from your work. I hadn't realised how stupid I looked till Zitao caught me and asked me what the hell I was doing.

Since it's spring now, the flowers are in full bloom, azalea and camellia shrubs lacing the garden. The pretty scenery fits you well.

I change out of my uniform and walk over to the canteen, grabbing some wontons. I wolf them down and head to the library to help Minho borrow a history book.

The cool air breezes past as I stride in, scouring around for the history section all the way at the back. That reminds me, Coach told us to bring along the people who motivates us most for the big mid-year game. People who inspire you to do your best, or who you want to impress, those who will click your mind into competition mode instantly. He saved the whole front row of benches just for these people.

It's a big game this year since Coach thinks we have a good chance of making it to the finals. A lot of the team are bringing along their families, closest friends, and their girlfriends. But for me, my parents can't make it—not a surprise, I asked them out of obligation. Yoochun-hyung has been really busy since last year with his composing for KBS symphony orchestra and I can already tell he's squeezing out time just to check up on me. My closest friends are the team members themselves, and for the girlfriend part... The person who I love...

Doesn't even know who I am. You don't. It's sad, isn't it? It makes me wonder how I fell so deeply without even realising, to the point it feels like I'll never be able to crawl out. No one would be as ridiculous as me to choose a road so futile. If you knew I love you, if you knew I write about you being the little bit of moonlight left within the dew drops in dawn, would you be... disgusted?

I'm a boy, after all. The fairy tales are always about a prince chasing after his woman, and yet, I'm looking at you who's in another storybook with your own princess to chase. It's hard to say 'I love you' when the world seems to snap its head towards me the moment I even whisper the first word. Yet even with my heart swallowed down into my throat, when I see you, my heart pounds, the blood runs to my ears and my lips turn dry—and I wonder just how hopeless I can be. If you ever found out, I don't know what I'd do.

I don't want to be a freak in your eyes. Anything's better than being shunned, even if it means you not knowing me till the day I disappear into nothingness. You who bleed words from my mouth and carve out melodies from just your smile, coax paint to sit underneath my fingernails as I draw while thinking of you.

How would I react if you turned up at my game? I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Will I be distracted? Will I feel pressurised? Will I be too nervous to play? Or will I put in way more effort than I thought I could?

I don't know, but it's useless to hope anyway. In freshman year, you didn't turn up for our semi-finals because of a make-up exam. Jaebum had been sulking and when Yifan told him to introduce you, his "best friend forever" to the team, he had protested that you'd be too shy to. I still recall the seniors chuckling and casually asking about you: if you were tall, if you were chubby, if you had small eyes or long legs. I kept quiet while Jaebum rambled about you, a little happy I was the only one who knew who you were.

In sophomore year, when I'd asked him why you weren't here for the game, he'd sighed and said he didn't ask you as you two weren't as close anymore.

I can only hope Jaebum will ask you this time round and you'll show. That's my only hope.

I steer through the shelves and scour for that particular book, thumbing it out upon finding the title. I slip out of the aisle, pacing past the huge empty tables that can accomodate at least ten ten students. It's then I catch sight of a boy with his head buried into his arms, asleep at the very corner of the library. It takes only a split second to recognise it's you, and my breath hitches.

I stop in my tracks and stare hard, ascertaining it is you upon seeing your backpack beside you on the ground. Instinctively, I duck behind the shelf even though your back is facing me. Your shoulders rise and fall evenly and you squirm suddenly, my feet instantly hauling me into the aisle. I swallow down a breath and watch from between the shelves, pushing the books to the side to get a view of you.

You shift your head to face the side, cheek resting on your crossed arms as you fall back into a peaceful slumber. I crouch slightly to get a better look. Your lips are parted, and chapped; you should be drinking more water. Your small face nearly looks fragile underneath the meek lighting, cheeks peach like spring blossoms and lashes curled. You look so serene it melts the hard corners of this place into nothing but just the gentle curve of your lips.

I don't know how long I've been standing here, peeking at you through the numerous novels stacked here. I feel like a child playing hide and seek, afraid to be caught. You must be really tired...

After no sign of you waking up anytime soon, I gingerly step out of my hiding place, glancing at you while standing by the shelf as if it's a wall of safety.

...Do I dare?

I take a step forward, even the inaudible brushing of my sole against the carpet making me wince. I watch tensely and relax after a moment to see you haven't been disturbed.