CHAPTER 9;

Take it easy…..

I reminded myself of the silliness to feel so uptight beside him.

He’s not Lee Taemin. I psyched the thought into my brain.

He’s Min, the friend who had stood by my side at the darkest hour, whom I spent hours away, chatting about nonsensical stuffs.

I watched him as he took in mouthfuls after mouthfuls of kimbab, wondering how famished he was became I came with the food.

Was he working too hard?

His sudden choking distracted me from musings and I hurriedly pushed a bottle of water to him.

“Drink.”

He grabbed it and drank until the bottle was empty.

“Thanks.” He said after a moment of deep breathing. He looked at me, flustered, before diverting his gaze to a random spot on the table.

“So…” I cleared my throat, thinking of a way to express my apology for my past actions.  Words were rushing into my brain, but I could gather none to express the meanings I desired.

More so than anything at this moment, I wished there was someone by my side, telling me what to say.

He was still sitting just next to me, his eyes refused to look up as his fingers pulled at the long sleeve of his white pullover.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured.

He finally looked up at me; his chocolate eyes were wide and bewildered by my sentence.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Well, I think I have been a terrible friend lately.” I admitted.

He looked even more confused now. “But I thought that’s because you hated me for making you blind.”

This time, it was my turn to look surprised. “What?”

“You mean you don’t?” I could see him thinking my words over in his head, and I started to see what he has made from them.

Then I had to laugh. Because I realized how many silly misunderstandings we had between us.

I pressed my lips, regaining back my composure.  “I don’t.”

A gleaming smile turned up at the corner of his lips and delight lit up his pretty eyes. I blinked, my mind going blank. He really shouldn’t do that to girls.

“You brought your sketchbook here?” His sudden question, thankfully, snapped me out of my daze.

“Yes…” My hand reached out hurriedly for the book I left on the table. “I thought I might have to wait quite a bit before you get your break. So I just brought it along, just in case.”

“Can I take a look?”

“No.” I disagreed quickly, blushing from his unneeded attention at my personal artwork. “There’s nothing much in it.”

His lips turned down and formed a dissatisfied-looking pout.

“It’s not much.” I assured him.

He titled his head to a side; eager curiosity danced behind that pair of russet eyes of his. “Just a quick glance. Won’t you show me?” Another devastating smile materialized on his angelic face. “Please?”

The mental protests I held in my mind rapidly melt away like ice to fire.

“Fine.” I finally gave in, pushing my black sketch towards him.

He took it up excitedly like a child who has been granted a new toy and started flipping through the pages. I sat with my legs crossed, drumming my fingers impatiently on the wooden table as I stared at him.

“That’s amazing.” He said, after a while. “You drew more?”

I leaned my chin against a propped up arm, the palm of my hand covering, I hoped, the embarrassed expression on my face. “Yes.” I answered.

He flipped the book over, revealing the sketch of that cherry blossom scenario I had from my dream, where He, my faceless savior, was putting on the shoe that child-version me, had dropped.

“You imagined all these?” He flipped to the next page, where I drew the scenario where my faceless savior was always protecting me, from the shadows, then to another page, a scenario where I was bandaging his wounds, a recent addition to my never ending dreamscape.

“Not exactly.” I admitted, aware of his focused gaze that seems to be discerning me.

Should I tell him?

These things that I’ve never told anyone before?

It was only till these questions surfaced did I become aware that I always wanted to tell someone about this, this secret that I have been harboring for so long that I longed to seek release from it. Yet I simply can’t bring myself to say it out to anyone else.

But for some reasons, I felt that I can tell him. I want to tell him.

“They are from my dream. Same dream apparently.” I waited for his response before I dared to divulge any further. I was looking down at my hands, so I couldn’t see his expression.

Will he look at me weirdly? For having such weird dreams? And even to the extent of drawing them out?

I couldn’t be sure.

“Go on.” His tone was calm.

That was more enough to push me forward.

“I just have been having this repeated dream scene since I could remember.” I started speaking; my words were spilling out faster than I had wanted. “It doesn’t happen every day, but once in a while when I will still remember it. It’s usually about me running away from a group of people who are chasing me, though I don’t know why. And there will always be this man who was holding my hand and trying to escape with me. I’ve been thinking him as my savior, though I could never see his face properly in the dream. And that dream will always end with him being shot by an arrow.”

I risked a glance up at his face. He had a perplexed look on his face, though I knew I couldn’t really blame him for that.

 “But recently it seems to move on.” I continued on. “Though they showed different things, I got a feeling that they are somehow linked. And that’s where all these art pieces came about.”

He still looked confused. “But I thought dreams are usually fuzzy? I can’t remember mine clearly even if I just wake up.”

I shrugged slightly. “I’m not so sure myself. I remember all these dreams as if they had just happened. Just close my eyes and I can recall them immediately.”

I watched him closely, trying to see if there are any signs of him freaking out or being disgusted by this tall-tale.

“That’s kind of amazing.” His eyes held genuine interest.

“It is?”

“Hmm….” he flipped through the sketches. “are these the same guy?”

I nodded.

“Who is he?” He reached out the book to me.

I sighed, reaching out to take back my book. “I don’t know.”

Our fingers brushed lightly against each other. The fleeting warm touch was like nothing I ever felt before. It was as if a mild electric current had ran through me, jolting just enough to make me startled yet rigid.

Our fingers remained at touch with another, none of us able to move away from each.

 I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing. My chest raised a familiar warming sensation, as if I was burning again. But this time, I could not seem to feel the pain from it. Instead, I became aware of a loud thudding sensation from the same area – going a steady BA-DUM BA DUM beat.....

Then a loud bell rang sharply in our ears, snapping us out from the strange trance.

Without so much of a glance, he jumped out of his seat, said a “Got to go!” hastily, turned around and dashed his way back to the filming set.

I remained rooted to my seat, feeling the after-math of the contact between us.....a tingling experience that resembled like a minor cramp.

#Author's Note =D

So yeah, Seo-Yun finally over-came her apprehensions of Taemin and finally become friends with him! *jumps around*. Okay, I'm sorry it took so long for them to develop friendship. But then again, Seo-Yun has always been a reserved girl, so she's shy when it comes to making friends. Hope you like this chapter! Comments? Subscribe? *blush*