Chapter Nine
Broken GlassChapteR Nine
Sometimes there live someone behind us.
And he paused before me, looking quizzical yet that crooked beautiful smile of his stood still. I noticed him waving his palm over my face, which made me resume onto my awareness. Immediately, I broke that moment I just had showed by clearing a throat. There were other times I wanted to pinch my cheeks from being like this towards Yonghwa. I mean—I looked like a food in front of him.
"Sorry, I took so long. Let's go." It was plain and blunt, making firm strides out ahead of him.
"Wait!" Paused I an instant, and heard his shoes thudding on the road—he was running over to me. You know what was the most exaggerating part, was when I found my hand onto his. He was holding my hand again. And what was that for? It made me escaped an unheard sigh.
"You left me. Why? Do you even know where will I take you?" The thing was—he just coolly spoke those words, as if he will going to kidnap me. From his famous alluring smirk, who would want to insist? No matter how, I still have these feelings, which I am sure I am truly comfortable with him. And that did not bother me so much.
"Just take me to wherever you will going to take me to buy your new paintbrush, Yonghwa." And he just laughed. What was wrong with this chap?
But, I do admit, I love the sound of his laughter, as if Beethoven composed it himself. No, what I mean—Yonghwa composed it himself. He began to haul me along the route. His way of gripping reminded of a prince charming, who was holding his princess' hand. But, I am no princess. That made me looked on my shoes, watching, wondering where these feet would take me with this guy.
He initiated a conversation, "You know what, don't you have friends?" The question did not surprise me. I do not have friends after all. I remained looking down, analyzing how many times did we take already, and a sullen voice was only emanated. "I do not have any."
"I am wondering why. I mean, you are nice, and you even look approachable though. Or perhaps you do not know how to make friends, that is why. Am I right?"
He got it. He exactly got it.. I goggled upon him, flashing his back view on my sight. I could certainly recognize him even through his back. Without an answer of his second question, Yonghwa glanced back at me with a chuckle.
"It is okay if you don't want to answer. There is no need for me to know, right? But, I just want you to know, Yeun Joohyun, that we are now friends, okay? Real friends. That's it." The only thing I did not expect from this guy was that he would treat me as his real friend, as what he had said. It was ascertained that it was my first time hearing such. Was he that serious? My thought asked. Continuously, he took another set of glance at me.
"Don't look at me like that. I might melt with your stares." I saw him smiling lopsidedly in the left before he could turn back forward. His grip tightened warmly as if squeezing the inner me. I felt the heat rising, crawling up to my cheeks. I heard the beat—a sudden crazy beat of my heart, which undeniably out of tone.
"You know what, Joohyun, you are interesting, to be honest. Everything about you interests me so much, though I am still unsure to who you really are. But, you are truly interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, there is something in you that I want to know. Like wanting to know you more."
Sometimes—his difference to other people is creeping me out. It bothered me a lot, and it confused my mind so much. Or I just still do not understand him. Being new to this world, to his world, gave me another dimension of beauty and confusion. Maybe I was just not really a part of that world, I must say.
"You do not need to know."
"Why not?"
Because I do not want to waste your time over it."
"Are we there already?" A swift quibble appeared from my lips. Yonghwa stammered, "Ahh...y-yes. We are already near at the shop."
The only thing I do not want to talk about is everything that involves myself. I do not want people know the inner me. It was one sure thing, which I kept for more than years already. I do not want pity. I do not want help. I just need—acceptance; acceptance from everybody. One fact that I believed was that sharing a story to others was like spinning a vinyl in backwards, everything will be reminisced and those pains will continuously displaying non-stop. In other words—they do not need to know.
"We are here." I could perceived his smile molded into something bashful, opening the door for us both to enter and he gently made a release onto my hand. I took a glimpse of it a minute, and just witnessed how our hands departed meaningfully.
Then those eyes noticed something soothing around the shop. It was quiet indeed and those things were piled up in organize. Its atmosphere brought composure to every customer that will enter. Everything is artful. I can see those prominent painters and any other artists hung in a frame from each corner of the walls—the place was surrounded.
Each rack was filled with different materials an artist needed. There were school supplies also, yet mostly were the artists' instruments. The place was not that big, nor perfect to fill in with about fifty customers. But, surely it was cozy.
"Help me choose, Joohyun." I never thought he already drifted there on the particular rack with various of paint brushes from big to small. They certainly were satisfying the cravings of an artist.
"Do you often go here?" asked I whilst beginning to choose. Honestly, these brushes were perfect in detail. They were comfortable to hold with. I guess there was no reason for us to take any longer from choosing what is best. "Yup. This has been my favorite shop when it comes to this. How about you? Is it your first time?"
I just nodded my head. Soon picked one of its thin, smooth wooden handle, slightly big, and had that typical white coloured brush. "How about this?" matter-of-fact I queried.
"Oh. This is great! I will get this then." He got it from me to test by holding before emitting that reply with satisfaction.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Thanks." Yonghwa grinned at me.
"To be honest, they are good. Similarly good and recommendable."
It was clearer than the sea when his jaw dropped in display, he was trying to escape words but it seemed vague, and so he broke into a chortle—sheepish chortle. What was wrong with him? His face was even engulfed with something reddish. Was he sick?
"Ya, are you sick?"
"Eh?? N-no, I am not!" There was really something wrong with him. He even sounded so defensive. But, why should I care?
"Let us umm get this and so we could go."
Yonghwa ambled himself ahead to the cashier to pay. Why does it felt flimsy with his replies earlier? Or should I say a flimsy excuse? Sighed I, and followed him. I never thought he could be this weird, too.
"Sorry, I took so long. Let's go." It was plain and blunt, making firm strides out ahead of him.
"Wait!" Paused I an instant, and heard his shoes thudding on the road—he was running over to me. You know what was the most exaggerating part, was when I found my hand onto his. He was holding my hand again. And what was that for? It made me escaped an unheard sigh.
"You left me. Why? Do you even know where will I take you?" The thing was—he just coolly spoke those words, as if he will going to kidnap me. From his famous alluring smirk, who would want to insist? No matter how, I still have these feelings, which I am sure I am truly comfortable with him. And that did not bother me so much.
"Just take me to wherever you will going to take me to buy your new paintbrush, Yonghwa." And he just laughed. What was wrong with this chap?
But, I do admit, I love the sound of his laughter, as if Beethoven composed it himself. No, what I mean—Yonghwa composed it himself. He began to haul me along the route. His way of gripping reminded of a prince charming, who was holding his princess' hand. But, I am no princess. That made me looked on my shoes, watching, wondering where these feet would take me with this guy.
He initiated a conversation, "You know what, don't you have friends?" The question did not surprise me. I do not have friends after all. I remained looking down, analyzing how many times did we take already, and a sullen voice was only emanated. "I do not have any."
"I am wondering why. I mean, you are nice, and you even look approachable though. Or perhaps you do not know how to make friends, that is why. Am I right?"
He got it. He exactly got it.. I goggled upon him, flashing his back view on my sight. I could certainly recognize him even through his back. Without an answer of his second question, Yonghwa glanced back at me with a chuckle.
"It is okay if you don't want to answer. There is no need for me to know, right? But, I just want you to know, Yeun Joohyun, that we are now friends, okay? Real friends. That's it." The only thing I did not expect from this guy was that he would treat me as his real friend, as what he had said. It was ascertained that it was my first time hearing such. Was he that serious? My thought asked. Continuously, he took another set of glance at me.
"Don't look at me like that. I might melt with your stares." I saw him smiling lopsidedly in the left before he could turn back forward. His grip tightened warmly as if squeezing the inner me. I felt the heat rising, crawling up to my cheeks. I heard the beat—a sudden crazy beat of my heart, which undeniably out of tone.
"You know what, Joohyun, you are interesting, to be honest. Everything about you interests me so much, though I am still unsure to who you really are. But, you are truly interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, there is something in you that I want to know. Like wanting to know you more."
Sometimes—his difference to other people is creeping me out. It bothered me a lot, and it confused my mind so much. Or I just still do not understand him. Being new to this world, to his world, gave me another dimension of beauty and confusion. Maybe I was just not really a part of that world, I must say.
"You do not need to know."
"Why not?"
Because I do not want to waste your time over it."
"Are we there already?" A swift quibble appeared from my lips. Yonghwa stammered, "Ahh...y-yes. We are already near at the shop."
The only thing I do not want to talk about is everything that involves myself. I do not want people know the inner me. It was one sure thing, which I kept for more than years already. I do not want pity. I do not want help. I just need—acceptance; acceptance from everybody. One fact that I believed was that sharing a story to others was like spinning a vinyl in backwards, everything will be reminisced and those pains will continuously displaying non-stop. In other words—they do not need to know.
"We are here." I could perceived his smile molded into something bashful, opening the door for us both to enter and he gently made a release onto my hand. I took a glimpse of it a minute, and just witnessed how our hands departed meaningfully.
Then those eyes noticed something soothing around the shop. It was quiet indeed and those things were piled up in organize. Its atmosphere brought composure to every customer that will enter. Everything is artful. I can see those prominent painters and any other artists hung in a frame from each corner of the walls—the place was surrounded.
Each rack was filled with different materials an artist needed. There were school supplies also, yet mostly were the artists' instruments. The place was not that big, nor perfect to fill in with about fifty customers. But, surely it was cozy.
"Help me choose, Joohyun." I never thought he already drifted there on the particular rack with various of paint brushes from big to small. They certainly were satisfying the cravings of an artist.
"Do you often go here?" asked I whilst beginning to choose. Honestly, these brushes were perfect in detail. They were comfortable to hold with. I guess there was no reason for us to take any longer from choosing what is best. "Yup. This has been my favorite shop when it comes to this. How about you? Is it your first time?"
I just nodded my head. Soon picked one of its thin, smooth wooden handle, slightly big, and had that typical white coloured brush. "How about this?" matter-of-fact I queried.
"Oh. This is great! I will get this then." He got it from me to test by holding before emitting that reply with satisfaction.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Thanks." Yonghwa grinned at me.
"To be honest, they are good. Similarly good and recommendable."
It was clearer than the sea when his jaw dropped in display, he was trying to escape words but it seemed vague, and so he broke into a chortle—sheepish chortle. What was wrong with him? His face was even engulfed with something reddish. Was he sick?
"Ya, are you sick?"
"Eh?? N-no, I am not!" There was really something wrong with him. He even sounded so defensive. But, why should I care?
"Let us umm get this and so we could go."
Yonghwa ambled himself ahead to the cashier to pay. Why does it felt flimsy with his replies earlier? Or should I say a flimsy excuse? Sighed I, and followed him. I never thought he could be this weird, too.
yemakim here
/CRIES BECAUSE OF THE SUPER LATE UPDATE/ HUHUHU SO SORRY BECAUSE YEAH;;;; then again yemakim is baaack uwaaaa! I was so busy, and up until now, actually because I need to rehearse all over as I am joining a KPOP SINGING COVER CONTEST omg please pray for me TT___TT
PS: /THROWS LOVE AT YOU ALL/ MWAAAH MWAAH <3 <3 <3
PS: /THROWS LOVE AT YOU ALL/ MWAAAH MWAAH <3 <3 <3
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