“Do you think the bottle reached London by now?” I asked Yonghwa one Friday morning at school.

“Shin Hye, you’ve been asking me that since last year,” he answered, smiling a little. He tossed his blazer at the back of his chair and he placed his bag on the floor. “Give it more time.”

I pouted at him, but nodded anyway. Our seats were by the window at the very back of the room, and he was the one nearest to it. Whenever the sun shone, the rays would catch his raven black hair, making it shimmer. As time passed by, I noticed that his accent became more of Seoul’s. I had no idea why but it bothered me for a bit. I guess I still wanted him to be the Busan boy that I was always with.

<:>

We had to do Arts and so our teacher made us go outside. We were allowed to do it by pairs, much to my relief, and like always, Yonghwa and I would stare at each other knowingly and nod. Our teacher provided us with a huge sketchpad and a variety of coloring materials before we stepped out of the classroom. We all lined up and we headed downstairs. Yonghwa and I settled under the huge acacia tree situated at the very back of the school. Sitting on one of the huge roots that managed to stick out from the grassy earth, I placed the coloring materials on the ground and Yonghwa began to chew on the end of his pencil.

“So…” I began. “What should we draw?”

“The teacher said we should just draw whatever and explain it, right?” he said.

I nodded. Yonghwa grinned in mischief, and looked at me with a glint in his eyes. “Why don’t we try drawing our friendship?”

My eyes widened. “Our friendship?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I already have an idea. I’ll explain it, too. All you have to do is to draw it.”

He tossed me the sketchbook. “Hey!” I shot him a leer. “Why me?”

“You’re better when it comes to this,” he said. “Draw a boat in a bottle.”

“A boat in a bottle?” I repeated. “The one that we bought?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But you should use the colors that remind you of us.”

“Then what would you do?” I asked him.

“Like I said, I’ll do the explaining. I can help you color later on, too.”

“Yonghwa, you’re not helping!”

“Calm down,” he said, chuckling. “I can always sing to you, you know.”

I looked at him. “You don’t have your guitar with you.”

“My voice is enough,” he returned.

I smirked as I flipped the sketchbook open. Yonghwa handed me his pencil and I said a quick thanks. I gauged the paper’s space and after doing so, I proceeded to draw a boat in a bottle, being tossed away by the waves of the sea.

Yonghwa began singing, then, as he plucked patches after patches of grass around him. The leaves above us rustled and swayed with the balmy wind, and the blue sky was spotted with puffs of white clouds that idly rolled by. I felt warm, but it wasn’t the scorching kind of warm—it was fuzzy and comfortable and gentle. I could hear the chirping of the birds from a distance which pretty much contributed to the orchestra of summer and I could smell something fresh that made the tips of my fingers tingle with anticipation.

He stopped singing, and I glanced at him. “Why’d you pause all of a sudden?”

Yonghwa sighed, and stretched his arms. “I feel so fortunate that a lot of living things listen to my voice.”

“I’m the only person here aside from you,” I pointed out, as I took the eraser resting on my lap. I began to rub some pencil marks off the paper.

“The trees, the birds, the grass and the flowers—oh, and that butterfly over there—” he looked at me. “Aren’t they living things?”

“Well, they are,” I said. “But that’s another thing.”

“It really is,” he replied with a sigh. “Unlike us, they have time to stop and listen to songs. Plus, if they don’t like it, they have no say about it because they can’t speak.”

“I guess you’re right,” I agreed.

“You’re concentrating, aren’t you?” he asked again.

“Yeah, probably,” I murmured.

Yonghwa smirked, and he resumed on singing. I carried on listening. From time to time, I would join in, too. But unlike his steady and confident voice, my way of singing wasn’t as warm as his; it wasn’t as heartfelt, wasn’t as great. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

After an hour, we were told to get back in. Fortunately, we finished just in time. We were the third one to stand up front and Yonghwa, being the confident one, stood up and owned the platform as if it were his. I held our sketch up, and the class made a cry of awe when they saw the summer-colored boat inside a transparent bottle.

“Shin Hye and I decided to sketch out our friendship,” Yonghwa began in his clear voice with a tinge of Busan accent in it. “And for some reason, our friendship is like this boat in a bottle.”

The teacher looked at us expectantly, and I knew, from the way Yonghwa showed him that boyish smile of his, that he had already won our teacher over.

“You see,” he carried on. “Shin Hye is the boat, and I am the bottle. The water is the problems we encounter. Without the bottle to protect the fragile boat inside it, then it would sink helplessly.”

“What do you mean?” a classmate of us asked.

“Yeah, get to the point already!” another one chimed in.

Yonghwa held his right hand up, and this silenced them. “Without me to protect Shin Hye, the problems would swallow her. But since I’m with her, she’s safe, and the problems would be like adventures instead of hurdles. It’s as simple as that.”

For some unknown reason, a warm chuckle escaped from out teacher's lips. “That’s a really nice picture of your friendship,” he said. “And you explained it really well. I never expected this to come out from you, Yonghwa-yah.”

Yonghwa grinned, and nodded at me, signaling me to follow him back to our seats.

<:>

School ended. Yonghwa and I headed straight for the convenience store near our school to buy a bottle of banana milk. For some reason, that became our routine. I was sipping away when Yonghwa turned to me. I looked back at him. He grinned.

“It’s my first time getting an A in arts,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“That’s your fifth time telling me that,” I replied.

He smiled. “Sorry. I can’t help myself.”

I shrugged.

“You wouldn’t get me, anyway," he carried on. "You always get an A in arts.”

“Hm,” I said. “I guess that’s the only thing I can beat you at: Arts.”

Yonghwa gave me a slight nudge, and I looked at him. He crushed his packet and he threw it in the bin. “Last one to reach your house is a rotten egg!” he hollered, as he bolted off into a run.

“Hey!” I bellowed, as I threw my banana milk into the bin in desperation. “That’s foul play!”

I tried my best to catch up with him, but who was I kidding? Aside from English and Mathematics, he was good in Physical Education, as well. Yonghwa was too playful at that moment to even notice me, so I did what I had to do—I pretended to fall down.

“Ouch!” I grunted, as I stumbled on purpose. I hid my face behind my messy, long hair and I could see him approaching me.

“Shin Hye-yah,” he said. “Did you fall?”

I moaned and pretended to sob.

“Hey, this isn’t funny anymore,” he said, anxious. “Shin Hye, where does it hurt? Should I call the neighborhood doctor?”

I mumbled out some words, and I felt him lean in closer to me. At that moment, I looked up at him, and my eyes widened when I realized just how close our faces were. I disregarded the shock—I had him now. I stuck my tongue out and quickly stood up.

“Got. Cha,” I croaked, before thundering off on impulse.

“Now that’s foul play,” he pointed out, as he went on his way.

In the end, Yonghwa ran slower on purpose, and I won the race. He was always like that. No matter what, he would let me win. We were panting and laughing when we stepped inside our house. After playing around, we would get a cookie or two from the kitchen. But the moment I went inside the living room, I could feel that something was wrong. My Mom wasn’t around to greet us, and the smell of freshly baked cookies wasn’t present.

“Shin Hye…” Yonghwa muttered.

I looked at his knowing stare, and I nodded. “Something’s wrong, Yonghwa.”

At that moment, my Mom stepped out of her room, and my eyes widened when I saw that her face was a little flushed and swollen. “Shin Hye-yah, we need to talk for a moment.”

“What for?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

“It’s something important,” she answered with an urgent snap. “Yonghwa, I’m sorry, but can you go home for today?”

“Uh, sure, Auntie,” he said. He gave off a tentative bow. “I’ll be going first. See you tomorrow, Shin Hye.”

“See you,” I waved at him. He nodded, and headed for the door. When the door clicked behind him and when his footfalls vanished, Mom let out a sigh.

“Mom,” I said in a mere whisper. “Did you cry?”

“A little,” she admitted, as she gave me a tight hug. “Shin Hye, I’m sorry but…we have to move away.”

My eyes slightly widened. She let me go, and she studied my face. I gave her a weak smile. “What’s there to be sorry about? We can always come back here, right? I can always play with Yonghwa, can’t I?”

She shook her head no, and her eyes were so wistful at that time. “We’re moving far away.”

After hearing those words, my heart began to race. I started to tremble, sensing that I wouldn’t like the things my she would be saying.

“W-Where?” I managed to choked out.

“To London. Your Dad just called,” she said. “And he’s processing our papers now. We’re moving away after a few weeks, so you still have time to play—”

“No!” I yelled, as I broke away from her grip. “Why is it so sudden? I don’t want to leave!”

“I know, Shin Hye, but you have to understand—”

“I don’t want to!” I stubbornly cried, as I dropped my backpack on the floor. “I promised Yonghwa that I wouldn’t leave! I promised!”

“I’m sure he will understand, Shin Hye. And London is a beautiful place.”

“But Yonghwa’s not there,” I said. Beads of tears were starting to emerge from my eyes. My throat began to hurt and I could do nothing but cough and sob. “How can things be beautiful if Yonghwa’s not there?”

“You can be with your Dad, we will be complete again,” Mom pushed.

“I only saw Dad in pictures,” I pointed out. “I don’t want to move! I’m not moving!”

With that, I stormed out of our house. My Mom tried calling me back, but it was of no use. I thought of Yonghwa’s place. I pushed their gate open and crossed their yard, not even bothering to knock anymore. I looked up, and seeing that his room’s window was open, I climbed the oak tree that I practiced on for months. I balanced myself on the thick branch and landed smoothly on his bedroom floor. Yonghwa was reading a book at that time.

“Oh, Shin Hye,” he said, as he closed his book. “You’re he—” he stopped short when he saw me crying. His eyes widened, and in a blink of an eye, he stood up from his chair and he approached me.

I was quiet, and he was quiet. He made me sit down on his bed, and he took the space beside me.

“I’ll break one promise,” he said, his voice gentle. “You can cry on my shoulder for now.”

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering, but it didn’t really help. I rested my head on his left shoulder, and closed my eyes. I sniffed, and Yonghwa reached out for the tissue box lying on the edge of his bed. He took some, and he handed it out to me. He was wise enough to not ask why I was crying.

“I have a question,” I said thickly.

“Shoot,” he replied.

“How far away is London from here?”

He scoffed. “You’re already ten, and you’re asking me that?”

I didn’t reply. He sighed. “It’s really far away. You have to ride a plane.”

“How many planes?”

“Three at the most,” he said.

“That’s really far,” I murmured.

“It is,” he replied.

“Yonghwa…”

“Hm?”

“I guess I have to break a promise, too,” I whispered.

“What promise?”

I paused, and  let out a deep and painful sigh. “I think I’ll leave you.”

Yonghwa scoffed. “Stop lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Seriously, Shin Hye. I won’t fall for that trick again. You fooled me today; I won’t let that happen again.”

“I’m being serious,” I pressed on. “My Mom said we’d leave for London.”

Yonghwa grew quiet. I swallowed. The only sound that could be heard was our even breathing and the slight whistling of the afternoon wind.

There was a long pause. “Then when will you leave?”

“After a while. Maybe a few weeks. I don’t know.”

“Can’t you stay?”

“I think I can’t.”

Yonghwa forced out a laugh. It was my first time hearing that from him. I guess he was really upset and disappointed.

“You’re stepping out of the bottle, then,” he said. “And you’re heading for the waves. Don’t you dare sink. I want to see this boat reach London without getting damaged. I want something unexpected to happen.”

I nodded, and I realized that Yonghwa was singing. I let his voice linger in my ears before letting myself fall asleep.

<:>

I slowly opened my eyes the next morning and when I could finally focus, the first person I saw was Yonghwa, still sleeping soundly. Our hands were intertwined and I noticed that someone placed a blanket over us. The gentle rays of the sun shone through his window and it basked him in this gentle, warm and golden glow.

I smiled a little, and closed my eyes again to sleep a little more.

“Shin Hye…” he whispered, which caused me to open my eyes. I looked at him carefully, and my eyes widened when I saw tears slowly emerge from his eyes. “Please don’t go…”

Tightening my grip on his hand, I shut my eyes. It was my first time seeing him shed some tears.

"Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.""
- Mark 10:9

deanne aw, glory to God ^^

janiejane well you just have to read on to see where things will go, hm? ^^ and thanks for commenting!

iitadakimassu here's an update ^^;; oh my buddha, even if they're cheesy, I'm glad you like it ^^

JustBee "Nicholas Sparks" feeling. O-Oh my, I'm flattered ^^;; I'm glad I managed to pull that atmosphere off ^^ I love Nicholas Sparks! No, thank YOU for commenting and for giving this story a chance ^^

As for loveternallyou, I'm grateful for your efforts in even holding this contest up. Hee~ hwaiting!