Like Pinocchio

my nose gets longer from hiding my farewell.

I’m hopeless as a person.

My body is stiff as wood.

Taehyun pulled the white scarf around his neck tighter in an attempt to battle against the cold morning breeze gnawing at his skin. He was on his way to university, a few books pressed against his chest as he stepped over the sole-deep snow. The winter was particularly colder these days, if that was possible, and Taehyun couldn’t do anything but look at his pale hands, noticing a few blisters from this morning’s coffee incident.

The school was already crowded with students, and it was hard to ride the wave of people going about their own business while he was trying to reach his locker. So Taehyun ended up squeezed between one of the building’s posts and the swarm of bodies.

“Taehyun?”

He looked up to meet the darkest pair of irises he ever laid upon, “Minho-hyung,” he smiled. “Sorry for leaving early yesterday.”

The folds around the man’s eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly down at Taehyun, the same, familiar smile. “Ah I was waiting for you at your last class but your friends told me you already left so I didn’t wait long.” Minho looked around and laughed, “What are you doing here? Our lockers are over there!”

Taehyun chuckled softly, “I was waiting for the flood to drown down.”

Minho looked around him in the middle of the sea of people and he laughed again at Taehyun’s reply, “Ah you little Mister Poet!” And then he gently tugged Taehyun away from the post, hanging one of his arms over the younger’s shoulder protectively, “Let’s start sailing!” And then he started to lead the two of them through the throng of students, until they ultimately reached their lockers by the end of the hall.

Song Minho was a year older than him and slightly taller than Taehyun. He has the most beautiful shade of bronze skin Taehyun ever saw, small lips with the perfect cupid’s bow shape, and broad shoulders enough for his large frame.

They met in the summer, in a Drawing crash course back when they were still in middle school. When the cicadas buzzed outside the room swelling with the smell of sweat and laziness. Song Minho took the seat next to Taehyun, talking about how weird his drawings were and how interesting it was that he found them amusing. Taehyun took this as a compliment, even flipping through the pages of Minho’s drawing pad and was amazed at how good he was at caricatures.

They became good friends. Minho would talk about his late night comedy movies and Taehyun would retell his favorite documentaries. One time, Minho invited him to his flat and Taehyun found it was easier to waste time in the little apartment as he doodled on the white walls flushed with all kinds of stains.

Minho liked his doodles, so he let Taehyun fill one side of the wall – the one near the kitchen, where Taehyun would draw a mandala or a wavy face every time he stayed over, sipping coffee or tea or his takeaway green tea frappe as he did so.

Something about Minho made him feel at ease. Made him feel peaceful.

So they became the best of friends. At least for Taehyun, Minho was. He knew Minho had many friends, in every part of town they’ll visit. But Minho would always chose to call him to watch a new DVD or drink at home or just sit there, in silence, as they paint on the white walls. None of Minho’s other friends were invited to that little flat. Minho said it was like his own world, and Taehyun rejoiced at the thought that he was the only one Minho would let in that little flat. In that little world of his.

 They would talk about their favorite painters, sometimes they would talk about the places they would like to visit, the dreams they once dreamt of. One night Taehyun found themselves on the roof of Minho’s apartment building, the night air tickling their foot and neck, making them shiver.

“I always thought of the complicated things, to stay safe or ran away.” Minho sighed,  “But I always end up wanting to be free.”

Taehyun nodded at Minho’s sentiment, adjusting his arms that he used as a pillow, “But it’s scary.”

“I say if it’s not scary then it’s not worth the risk.” Taehyun replied with a soft curious hum. “Falling in love for example.”

Taehyun turned over, his eyes landing on Minho’s side-profile. He definitely was not expecting Minho to suddenly talk about it. “Falling in love?”

“When