Chapter 11

Grandma had long gone to bed; she was using the guest room since she wanted to stay for a couple of days. My parents and siblings were already fast asleep too. It's 11 in the evening, the whole house had already long shutdown. 

I was in my balcony, sitting on the tiled flooring with another book in my hands—Little Women. I had been having a hard time sleeping since that night I had dreamt of hearing mom's voice. After it was another night when her voice haunted me again. I would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, sometimes with tears in my eyes. I didn't want to end up in the same condition that tonight I'm staking on being all up until waking time. It was easier, I guess, than being woken up by a dream of my crying mother; it was too vivid that I could also feel the pain in her voice. And I didn't want to meet her pains, especially when there was no way I'd be able to wipe her tears away. 

I leaned back on the railing, my eyes focused on the words floating on the page I'm on. I couldn't understand a thing, to be honest. My mind was latched on something else—

"You must write from life, from the depths of your soul." I was more than shocked to hear the voice behind me. So shocked I had my hand over my wildly thumping heart. Jongin was suppressing a chuckle when he saw the look on my face. I probably look terribly pale.

"What the hell?!" I stood up, squinting at him, utterly annoyed he had almost given me a heart attack. I almost died in anxiousness!

He folded his arms, his lips tugging to a smile. "Friedrich." He said.

"What?" I raised a brow.

He pointed to the book clutched in my left hand. I looked down and then at him. "I was saying a line by Friedrich." 

"Oh." I probably looked dumb only saying that. But shame on me. I didn't even know what that was or who said it. Yet he knew even though he wasn't reading the book now. See how smart he was?

Jongin suddenly pushed himself up on the railing of his balcony. "What are you doing?" I asked, giving him a look. 

He looked up, but let himself enter my turf first before speaking, "Accompanying you?" I widened my eyes, surprised. "You look surprised."

"I didn't think you'd be awake especially at this hour. We have school tomorrow." I pointed out, watching him settle down on the floor, resting his back on the railings of my balcony.

"And so? I should tell you the same." He said, looking at the infinity of my dimly lit room. I was a little annoyed of the nonchalance, but he was right. I was one to speak.

I settled down beside him, reserving a little distance to give us both enough space to breathe. I leaned my back on the railing too, exhaling with relief when I only felt slightly cold.

"You're not cold, right?" I heard him ask. I shifted my gaze to him; he was looking back at me with those warm eyes. I shook my head.

"Not at all." It wasn't true. But it wasn't also a lie. "I'm wearing my favorite piece of clothing so no." This made him look down on my S & J hoodie; and then smiled satisfactorily. Guess, he still remembered how he bought me this.

"Are you—" He looked up at me meekly, eyes locking. "Are you still keeping the hoodie in...in...in...I mean..." He kept scratching the back of his head as if embarrassed to say the words out. "I mean...in your time?" Oh, that was why.

He was still uncomfortable asking about my own time and reality. It's probably because he still couldn't believe the entirety of my story. Well, that was to be expected. But I was definitely happy he asked.

"Of course." I said, looking away. "I treasured things you had given me. All of it."

"All...?" He strangely sounded surprised to hear me say that. Oh well, way to surprise me too with your uncharacteristic stuttering and emotional shifts Kim Jongin.

"All." I confirmed, nodding. "The memories when you first took me on your bike, the food you cooked for me, those flower crowns and rings—do you remember them? The ticket to The Nutcracker—I still have the torn half!, and oh, not to forget my first kiss!" I grinned widely at him.

"Oh, Jesus. Not that." He said, sliding his hands on his face. I chuckled, enjoying this moment I could see his dignity crumble. When else could I actually see this side of Jongin?

"Why not?" I was as excited as a bumble bee in taunting him like this. He was so defenseless. "You clearly gave me one on my 12th birthday. Right here." I pointed on the  right corner of my lips. 

He lowered his hands down slowly, looking at me. First at my eyes, then at my lips. He was looking so intently at me that I felt my cheeks blushing. I hate it whenever he did that. It made me want to hide in a hole. So I blinked away and focused not on his eyes, but his messy hair. Anything but nothing down below his fringe!

"I-It's not a leggit kiss..." I gulped as I tried reasoning out, "but I consider it my first, alright." I was queasy as hell, deep down. This was deep embarrassing but the words escaped before I could even put a mouth filter.

Then he was chuckling—which made me even more flustered. Cruel world. Rude best friend. Hell'a night. "Why are you even explaining that to me?" He asked, pretty amused that the tables had turned. It was his turn to make fun of me. Oh great. Just great.

"I wasn't. I was just saying. Okay?" Now, he will never get to hear how relieved I was that he was actually that person to me. My first kiss. Even though it wasn't really on the lips.

He nodded, suppressing a smile. It was silent for a while, until he spoke again, "About this evening...I didn't mean to eavesdrop." He sounded unsure that it was amusing.

I suppressed a laugh, fiddling on the leaves of my book. "Whatever. It doesn't really matter. Grandma was just interrogating me and teaching..." I trailed off, unable to complete my sentence.

He probably knew whatever I was going to say because as soon as there was another bout of silence, he said, "You were clearly telling her about Sehun. The guy in your time." His brows were knitted together; giving away his take on the subject.

My lips curved up. "Mercy me! I don't know anything about love and such nonsense!" I uttered out, reading the lines in my book.

He breathed out a smile, shaking his head. "Now, I can't believe you are channeling Jo March." He mused. I beamed. I didn't think he would read Little Women that far! I mean, to think he had memorized the lines and had read a book about girls? Women? It's a masterpiece but really...?

"I just think we're similar in a way. Her lines were quite my life." I shrugged, indulging in the bittersweet feeling.

"How so?" He asked, voice with a hint of curiosity.

I fixed the book in my hands, spine in my palm, eyes fixed on that one Jo March line. My favorite line as of now. "I'm ugly and awkward and I always say the wrong things. I fly around throwing away perfectly good marriage proposals—but of course the last bit wasn't really true since I'm only ditching one proposal...or let's say, wedding." I grinned, but my lips were in a painful stretch. It was too fake it hurt.

"You're going to ditch him?" He sounded unsure of what to say.

I nodded. "If I get out of here."

"But won't you regret it? I mean, you loved him." He said, and even still it was foreign to hear him say the thing I felt for Sehun. The thing that used to be binding me to Sehun. I didn't even know now if it's the same thing buzzing in my heart. Or was it anger? Did the love lessen?

"What do you expect me to do then?" I asked, now looking at him.

He looked calm, but certainly a bit perplexed now that I had asked. "I won't expect you to do anything..." He said in a small voice, lowering his gaze on his lap. "It's not my relationship to make decisions for, so you do your thing."

"Ei!" I was a little unsatisfied with his answer, but I was also happy he would let me decide for my own if it was my own problem, that I ruffled his hair so casually. But if he was there to actually listen to me—if he was there that day of truths to hear everything, would he still let me decide for my own or would he shield me right away from Sehun?

"That's enough messing my hair!" He snapped, swatting my hand away. I chuckled, rather amused than pissed he was being grumpy. "Why do you even like pushing my buttons?!" He asked, mumbling almost to himself—though he was clearly more than annoyed now—and smoothened his hair.

I smiled. "That is what I am to you! To give your life some spice! Some fun, Kim Jongin!"

He snorted, giving me an incredulous look. "What is even fun in you?" He asked, face smug.

I tilted my head, raising a brow at him. "What's not fun about me?" I asked back, putting the same smug look.

"Everything." 

"Tch." I nudged his side. He chortled. "You can do better than that Jong."

I smiled, knowing that even though we were both looking at other things than ourselves, we were both smiling through the silence. The mood was so light I couldn't complain about the silence that took over again. Words aren't just needed to fill in the gap for now, I guess.

We were both so drugged in the happy feeling that we slightly laughed when we noticed each other doing the same thing—stretching our legs in front of us so we were both seated comfortably after feeling the slight cramps from our previous position.

"I've been really curious..." He started, breaking the long silence filled with nothing but laughter.

"About what?" I wagged my feet slowly from side to side, purposely bumping his bare foot that was a few inches from mine.

"About...what you were actually going to tell me that day...the good news, I mean." He gulped, his dry lips wet. "T-that day...two weeks before we fought and the news that you turned down Sehun's offer to go on an actual date broke out."

My eyes widened. I didn't think he'd still be interested in that thing. Well, he had already surprised me a lot, so what was there more to be surprised about? Yet, I was still having a hard time processing his words. And when my thoughts came out, I sounded quite bitter even though it wasn't my intention. "I was supposed to tell you about the date with Sehun. And ask you if you think I should agree to him. But then you didn't hear me out."

Strangely (or not), his face crumpled. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, that was already in the past." I tried making him feel better, but the frown on his face only deepened.

"If I didn't get mad at you, would have things actually changed?" No. "You wouldn't have avoided me. I wouldn't have gotten mad at you for nothing. You wouldn't have felt regretful. I would have been there for you those seven years..."

He was right. But it was my fault too. I was also to blame. "Don't blame yourself. If I didn't just let my feelings take over me that day, we wouldn't even be having that fight in the summer house. I wouldn't have lost you." I said.

But he shook his head, "You don't understand. If-if I wasn't just a moronic emo boy, I would have... No...no..." He trailed off.

"What do you mean?" I could hardly even understand him.

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