22 years old

“Hi there.”

You looked up from the list of your groceries to the source of sound. A lanky boy, looked barely legal by the red blotches on his cheek and the braces on his teeth, was standing on your left.

“Umm, yes?”

“Umm…Are you here alone?”

You quirked your eyebrow at that. That was a really lame pick up line. How could-oh. You spotted another boy, almost as tall as the boy near you, along with a cheeky looking boy with red hair and feminine cheekbone. Both of them were standing quite a distance from your position.

You smiled at that.

‘Just an awkward boy with pranksters as his friends.’

“Yep, I’m here alone.”

You decided to take the bait, if only to shame his prankster friends.

“Umm, do you…aish…do you know…that…that…you…look like a…”

His volumes went lower and lower until all that was heard was mutters and mumblings.

You brought your head closer to the boy, your head in near vicinity of him. Hmm, he was quite tall for a teenager, since you were not short of 170cm.

“Like a-OMO!! WHAT-WHAT-“

“I can’t hear your words.”

“Like-like-like. A FLOWER!”

He practically shouted the flower part until you went back a bit in shock.

Then he went redder than the watermelon on your right. You couldn’t hold a short laugh from escaping.

“Pfft.”

Once you decided he had enough of chiding himself, you stepped closer to the boy to rid him of the shame.

“I’m glad, you know.”

You smiled at him once he looked up from his lowered stance.

His eyes were so round…

“To be compared to flower.”

You ruffled his hair, so soft you thought.

“Thank you.”

You lowered your left hand from his head, taking the basket on your feet and took your leave.

You already have everything you need anyway. A broke uni student didn’t need anything more than cereal, milk and of course, ramen.

Also, good deed for the day, check.

You didn’t know, that what had been a normal day for you didn’t fare the same for the awkward, lanky boy.

**

27 years old

You hauled your messenger bag up again since it kept on slipping off your shoulder. You scolded yourself for having so many useless things on your bag, which purposes were only to hinder your movement on the busy Seoul street. You were sick of muttering “Sorry” to the people you hit accidentally with your bag.

“Aish, jinjja…”

You arrived, finally, on the venue. Wide smiles immediately graced your face when you spotted empty spot on the spacious area on one of the biggest parks in town. You always came here on Friday evening to listen to whatever street musicians there had to offer.

Today, it seemed that the musician was more famous than the previous weeks because the spot besides you were filled up faster than usual.

You put your attention back to the young man setting up his equipment, a guitar and an amplifier. Hmm, an acoustic.

Low, heavy voice started filling the summer-lit park. You didn’t know what you hear, but you know that the voice was heaven to your ears. No wonder many people came. The young man sung a Muse song, one you didn’t hear for a long time since college. Long before you went submerged in the world of corporate.

You were pulled back from nostalgia when people start thinning out and you spotted the young man struggled with his cable. There seemed to be no one helping him, so you came to him and offered him a hand.

“Hi, want me to help you?”

He looked up to you, so fast you feared his neck hurt for him.

“Ne?!”

“The cable, you need help right?”

“Umm, I was never good at untangling anything…”

His voice went down to murmurs and you struggled to hear it.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“I was never good at untangling”

“Then let me help you okay?”

“No, it’s okay, my friends will come in a jiffy and-“

You acted on autopilot. You put your hand to his head, since he was kneeling while you were standing, and ruffled his hair.

“Just let Noona help you, alright?”

You crouched down to help him, not realizing a pair of eyes went wide at your habit. You untangled the cable in no time and stood back.

“There. Tell your friends to come faster next time.”

You ruffled his hair again, his wide-eyed posture reminding you of a boy in a fuzzy memory whose similar postures incited your protective instincts.

You went back to your trail home, in a rush since you were sure you missed your train.

You didn’t know that while you missed the usual train schedule, the young man missed his chance to redeem his humiliation, both then and five years ago.

--

You didn’t come to the weekly music event a week after that due to an out of town conference, making you crankier than usual. You had to refuse your coworkers offer for a drink this week since you need your dose of live music on the park.

“I was down on luck. Really…”

You muttered curses under your breath since you missed your usual spot, you couldn’t see the musician. You felt spent and chose to sit below the tree behind the crowd and enjoy the sound only.

It was summer, yet you shuddered from the sadness visible in the low, heavy voice surrounding the park.

“Why are you sad…” You said to yourself.

“That’s because he didn’t see you last week.”

Your heart jumped at the sound. A man dressed in a white tshirt and jeans, with glasses was sitting on your left. He was handsome, although not your forte.

“Or probably because he was being dumb like he did five years ago.”

You looked to the opposite direction. A slim, petite man with red hair sat on your right, his cheekbones making you envious.

“Huh”

You gathered your wits, and spoke again.

“Do I know you guys somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

The man on your left stood. Only then that you realized that he was tall, taller than you, before you stood up as well since the show had finished.

“But you will be.” Said the man on your right, smiling cheekily at you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his cheery demeanor.

“Wait, you got a leaf on your head” He plucked a leaf from your head, showing it to you. You took it, seeing it in mild interest.

“Baek.” The tall man stopped his stride some meters in front and called the petite one.

“I’m coming, Sehun.”

“Baek,” This time, you could hear the warning in his tone. What were they talking about?

“I know Sehun.” The latter smiled back at you. “I know she’s Chan’s. What a waste, since you’re so pretty.” Insert a wink here and you responded good-naturedly in a laugh.

The men went away, leaving you beneath the tree and when you were about to go, a hand stopped you from moving.

“Wait please.”

You looked back and saw the street musician you had helped the last time you come here. No wonder the low heavy voice sounded familiar.

“Yes?”

“Want to have a drink with me?”

You went blank for a sec before laughing out loud.

--

“It is a blow on my confidence you know, to have you laughing at my face.”

“I’m sorry, hic, but-you’re just-so-random and cute!”

“I’m not cute.”

He pouted. Now, how could a straight man pout like that??

You smiled widely at that and ruffled his hair again, your habit getting worse since you were drunk.

“You. Are. So. Cute.”

And you laughed again.

“Well, now you’re officially drunk so” he took away your shot glass and shouted something at the pojangmacha auntie.

You mourned the soju bottle just out of your reach and tried reaching it again, only to have it blocked by the man.

“Urrgh, you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, and you’re so drunk, XX”

“Wait, how did you know my name?!”

“You told me a while ago.”

You didn’t remember telling him your name, but then again, you were not exactly sober.

“Whatever…”

You almost hit your face on the table before he stopped you, and he muttered,

“This is not how I envisioned meeting you again, but I’ll take what I can get.”

You slept the remaining way home, didn’t know that he had settled the bill, accompanied you to the taxi and took you home.

You didn’t know that although he tried to resist himself, he still took a tour around your house to see how you lived past your graduation after he put you to bed.

He never forgets, and he had new things to remember now. To add to his preserved one.

--

You were bad at remembering names, and you didn’t call him by his name until he called you out on one of the many after-event hangouts.

“Call me.”

“Huh?”

“By my name.”

You gulped.

“You’d forgotten my name, right?”

“Hahahaha, no no, eiii, what do you take this Noona for?”

You skirted around his enquiry. He had had enough and took your fidgeting hand to his.

“Say my name.”

You didn’t say anything. Of course, you didn’t remember his name.

He sighed, before pulling his chair closer to you.

“My name is Chanyeol.”

You shivered at his proximity, and him whispering on your ear might have add an effect to the chilly autumn wind. Note to self, avoid outdoor pojangmacha in autumn.

You reacted back by loudly accusing him of never formally addressing you.

“That’s true, you never called me Noona. What kind of kid are you if you were being disrespectful?”

He didn’t let go of your hand, instead he put his chopsticks down and slithered his long arm around the back of your chair.

“Because you’re not a Noona to me.”

You felt hot all of a sudden and you were so flustered you hit him in his shoulder for it.

“Damn you Chanyeol! Call me Noona!”

You hit him again, repeatedly on the same spot. His shoulder.

“Never. Merong.”

“Yhaaa, Park Chanyeol!”

--

You relationship shifted after that. He started to be more touchy feely around you. Incidental touches to right your stray hair or to take you to the inside of the sidewalk when you walked together. Then it evolved to his hand on your shoulder. Then the most recent one, the hand moved to your waist. You didn’t know what started it, but you didn’t mind. You had your fair share of it too.

Your hand at the back of his coat to avoid losing him in the crowd of Friday evening. Your hand on the crook of his elbow when you wanted to get his attention, then the latest one, your hand on his shoulder, righting his slipping coat after he put down his guitar in the car.

“XX”

“Hm?”

You tried to pull the stray thread on the shoulder of his inner shirt, all the while thinking to buy him a new one since his old one started to fray.

“You know-“

“Chanyeol-ah, do you know that your shirts have frayed on the shoulder? You really need to switch shoulder for carrying that guitar.”

You pulled it. It didn’t budge. Hmm, being rebellious, the thread, huh…

You pulled harder again, and Chanyeol knew by now that you were distracted, not hearing a word he had said.

Your left hand on his shoulder, and since he was taller than you by a head span, your right hand went up also to help pulling the thread.

You only realized how compromising your pose was when you said “Aha,” and your arms couldn’t move because Chanyeol had his arms around your waist.

“Wait-wait, why did you-“

“It’s only fair. You were hugging me right? I’m hugging you back.”

“I’m not!! I’m taking this-“

“XX”

“Ne?”

“You’re noisy. Shut up.”

It was you who usually say that to Chanyeol when he rambled too much. Now you lost your comeback on the back of your throat because he had his arms around you, your words thrown back at you, and his fingers arranging the guitar to its position inside the car behind you.

Your face warmed up at the thought of him so casually having you in his arms while he did his usual routine.

You unconsciously put your face closer to his chest, his warm body inviting you in. Not a moment later, he spoke up.

“XX, why were my chest-wait. Your face had gotten so red! Hahahaha”

You pouted up at him, upset that you being flustered were seen. You refused to meet his eyes.

You felt gloves on your cheeks later, him pulling your face up to meet his gaze. Your heart went into overdrive.

“Omooo, you’re so cute!”

He pinched your cheeks happily. You regained your thoughts and hit him back on the chest.

“Ouch that hurts.”

“It shall be. Should you laugh at my expense?!”

“What kind of boyfriend I was if I’m not laughing at you properly?”

You stopped hitting him on the chest, your brain processing his words.

“But I’m five years older than you…”

He knew you would bring up the age subject sooner than later, so he tightened his embrace before he spoke.

“XX, do you…mind?”

“I’m older than you, though…”

“That aside, don’t you like me?”

You went silent at that.

“Aside of that, don’t you like me?”

Age had always been your sore spot. You were too busy going after your career before realizing that you had gotten older and older. Your preferences for older men didn’t help already. You always passed by the younger men paying attention to you just because you felt icky of having a relationship with someone close to your younger brother’s age.

“…”

“You do like me, huh”

You felt pricked. Who the heck was he to get so cocky all of a sudden? You looked up to find him smirking at you. Oh you little-

You pinched him, hard. On the little skin on his neck. The one you couldn’t see anyway since he was so freaking tall.

“Ouch!!”

“Shut up!”

You looked at each other, frozen in a moment.

You both laughed out loud.

“I’m serious.”

You digested his words. Your mind whirling in unbelievable speed while he absentmindedly played with the clothes on your waist.

You decided actions speak louder than words, so you hugged him back. You played with the fine hairs on his neck, the one that caused him to shudder.

You felt rather than saw his smile on your head. Both of you stayed in that position until you heard him sneezing.

“Yha.”

“Muo?”

“Let me go.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“You’re freezing, idiot.”

“But I like holding you like this.”

“You do have something wrong in your head huh,”

You pulled the fine hairs back a little harder, to show that you were not kidding about him having to let you go. He cringed in mock pain.

“We need to go home. Or you’ll get sick.”

“Your home?”

“God…”

‘What did I get myself into’ you mused inwardly as both of you walked to the passenger door, the big baby lugging on your back lazily.

--

*pojangmacha: a street drinking stall, usually equipped with Korean snacks.