“How to spell her email?” Luhan carefully typed on the phone, waiting for my reply. I got a little better through a twenty-hour sleep, but was still unfit enough to work. Jongin left very early in the morning, leaving the afternoon-shift Luhan to stay with me. Like old times, he slept over on the small couch in my bedroom. I could not imagine how uncomfortable it must have been, but he actually endured and said nothing about it.

                  “[email protected],” I spelt each alphabet and he continued typing on my phone. I leant sideways and watched him in amusement, wondering how lucky I was to have these friends with me who stick through thick and thin. “Hey, Lu, you’re over thirty now. Have you gotten yourself a girlfriend?”

                  “No,” He chuckled. “I’m afraid with the intensity of my jobs and my small circle of friends, I would continue be single.” He was quiet for a while, slowing down his typing, though I was certain there was nothing left to be typed. With a voice void of any feelings and eyes smiling an ambiguous smile, “How about you? Are you still single after a few years?”

                  “Well,” I gave him a devious smile and shifted my position. My friends told me my stares could be burdening at times, but Luhan did not seem to my mind. He stared back with concealed curiosity, something I knew only years after knowing his habit. “I am, but I have to admit I dated a few times. They do not last long, though.”

                  “Why not? Still Sehun?” Luhan raised his eyebrows at me, and I shook my head. I had moved on, I reminded myself, feeling this sudden sense of peace rushed into my veins. “Not Sehun. Not anymore.” I guessed he played a part, but somehow, Jongin’s promise seemed to keep me away from dating, “What about Jongin? Does he date now?”

                  “That’s not a question you should ask me,” Luhan’s smile brightened a bit. I could not tell whether he was aiding Jongin because that man was dating someone else, or because he genuinely wanted to tease me. As good as I was in reading Luhan, there was still things I did not know of him; whether it was fake or real, sometimes it could be hard to distinguish.

                  “Hey, Sara,” Luhan spoke very softly and sat on the bed, brushing hair away from my face. I waited until he was ready to speak again, “You once said you wanted to get married by twenty-eight. If by then you have not found anyone you like, perhaps we should just get married to each other.”

                  He was half-joking, but his eyes were filled with utmost sincerity. I could feel a slow blush spreading on my cheeks, and the unsteady increase of heartbeat. After what seemed to be forever, a smile graced my lips and I spoke, very calmly despite of my anxiety and nervousness, “Sure, Luhan. Why not.”

                  Now it was his turn to be taken aback, as if he did not expect that reply at all. He appeared perplexed yet thoughtful, and his stern, but peaceful eyes wavered. They were no longer a tranquil water, but a small stream with strong current, sweeping everything with its water. I could not tell if he was serious about marrying me, because playful as he was, Luhan never took his words lightly, especially not on those that held heavy weight like marriage. 

                  “We will see then,” His smile slowly spread again, beautiful as a blossoming flower in spring. He checked the clock on the wall and turned to me, “I have to go now. I will bring the porridge here so you can eat whenever you like. I cannot come back today, but Jongin will probably visit. So take care of yourself, alright?”

                  “Stop treating me like a kid,” I grunted onto the pillow and rolled over the bed. “You can go. Tell Jongin he does not need to trouble himself to go all the way here. You guys can come over on weekend, if you’d like. Then we can hang out somewhere.”

                  “It’s Tuesday,” He gave me a weird look and grabbed his red-stripped white cardigan from the couch. He had not changed out of his gray shirt and blue pants, but I figured he must have clothes in the hospital he worked at. He came to the bed again and pinched my cheeks hard. “If you are trying to get rid of us again, I will personally hunt you down.”

                  “The older you are, the more clingy you become,” I complained.

                  “You never know what you have until it’s gone,” He threw me a meaningful look and headed for the door. He did not say goodbye and instead left in a very carefree attitude. It was that nonchalantness about mostly everything that I liked best about him, because in this free falling world, everything became a reason of insecurity and self-pity.

***

                  Jongin looked so exhausted, even more than yesterday. He came at eight, just when I thought he would not come. When I opened the door, he was looking up at the night sky, void of stars. And then he turned around and gave me a slight smile that warmed up my heart, even in the condition he was in right now. Sometimes I did not understand why he risked so much to make me happy, just as he did four years ago.

                  “Would you not be tired tomorrow?” I asked while cooking some soup for the two of us. He sat on the dinner table, eyes closed, lips apart. He was clearly asleep. I smiled and shook my head. If he were the woman and I were the guy, I would have carried him all the way to bedroom so he could sleep comfortably. I softly mumbled to myself, laughing, “Kim Jongin, what do I do with you?”

                  Jongin was just a year older than me, but we were not that different. Unlike Luhan, Jongin was quiet but he definitely yearned for freedom the way I did. Luhan was persuasive, but he was no fighter, especially when it came to his parents’ stubbornness. Jongin and I, on the other hand, were very insistent and forceful, perfectionist and dominant, such that everything must be done our ways. This was also the reason why Luhan became the neutral party in our three-way friendships.

                  When I served the bowls and utensils on the table, he slowly opened his eyes and sighed, covering the yawn with his hands. “You should not be here, Jongin. You have lost one day of sleep and you will lose another if you insist on going like this. Your brain would not be able to function properly. Architects require a great amount of energy and creativity.”

                  “Stop sounding so ungrateful,” He mumbled and started eating the soup. “How is your fever?”

                  “It’s clearly better, just a bit of drowsiness left, but that’s it,” I threw him a faint smile, which he did not notice because he was busy with the hot soup. Still the same Jongin who ate so heartily. Watching him like this was endearing. “How’s your job?”

                  “They just started on the collaboration project. I called your supervisor to let her know you are sick. Is she French?” He raised his head to look at me. I was a bit surprised that he would call Anne to let her know, but I could not imagine how tomorrow would be when I went to the office. “Oh really? And what’s her reaction?”    

                  “She just started interrogating me on the phone, with French,” Jongin chuckled. I held back a grin because Anne could be so intimidating when she wanted to. “That woman asked too many damned questions, starting with our relationships and then my personal life.” He sounded annoyed and grumbled, “She is not suitable for an advertising agency, she is much better off being a judge.”

                  “I know,” I replied, feeling proud of the way she took care of me, “Anne can be scary. But she means well.”

                  He eyed me curiously, “Aren’t you curious about what I told her?”

                  I feigned naivety and gave him an innocent, sweet smile, “I hope it’s not something crazy. Otherwise, she won’t let me off tomorrow.”

                  “Then you have to be prepared to be bugged by her tomorrow.” He gave a lazy smirk and continued eating. That raised my curiosity, but whatever his answer was, it did not sound so good. I thought it was better not to ask because I was not ready for a real, concrete answer yet. I knew how cowardice I sounded, but I just got back my best friend and I was not ready to lose him again.

                  “Curse you, Kim Jongin,” I shook my head.

                  “Still foul-mouthed, I see,” He muttered, loud enough to be heard across the table. I glared and he ignored it.

                  Later on, we sat on the couch, legs tangled against one another. I was yawning loudly as we watched this silly variety show on the television. Jongin played with my fingers gently, and it was the only thing keeping me away from sleep. “Sara. Do you still remember our promises in the airport four years ago?”

                  The topic came all of a sudden, but then again, Jongin was not one to waste time with empty talks. His eyes stared at mine directly, only a few distances away and our lips would have touched. I was reminded of our stolen kisses back in the university days. Years had I pondered why I had kissed him the way I did.

                  “Of course I do.”

                  “And your answer?” I looked down from his curious eyes because I dared not to see the sadness in them. Jongin sighed and brushed the hair away from my face intimately. He lifted my chin up and gave me a peck. It happened all of a sudden and caught me off-guard, such that I jerked backwards almost immediately.

                  “Jongin,” I sighed and shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the topic. “I am twenty-six now, and you are twenty-seven. It’s about time we think about our own future. Maybe that age is nothing to you, but I do not wish to fool around men who do not take me seriously. Do you understand me?”

                  He was stunned, too. Perhaps I had come off a bit too strong, but I needed to do this to clarify the future of us. I did not want to date around, thinking that all relationships would be a thing to pass time. I wanted to be with a man who was serious enough to marry me some years later.

                  “I have waited for you for four years. Is it not enough proof of how much I want you?”

                  Jongin’s reaction, though expected, still hurt. He suddenly stood up and grabbed his coat on the dining table. I watched him wordlessly as he gathered most of his belonging in a rush and shook his head at me. He was as pained as I was, “I think we are both tired tonight, so I will let you think about it clearly.”

                  He left, and I slid down the wall, heart pounding. What would happen to our friendship from now on? I felt so conflicted for hanging onto both parties so selfishly. Had it been ten years ago, I would readily accept Jongin’s confession. But right now, I was not so sure why the kiss was not as sweet as it used to be, or why Luhan’s face popped up into my head as I sank deeper into guilt and regret.