I blink once. Then twice, then I squeeze my eyes for a good measure.

The reflection on the mirror is still my face. I’m still me, physically, and the voices in my head says that I’m still me on the inside too.

But why is it when I look at his face, the butterflies that are supposed to be there ceases to exist?

***

Byun Baekhyun had been on my radar for as long as my high school life had stretched over.

Before I first saw him, I heard his voice first. His laughter was carefree, melodious, and it had sounded like he was laughing at the funniest joke anyone has ever told him in his life. It made me turn my head around.

Baekhyun was a skinny, pale fifteen-year-old with a square mouth who wasn’t one bit attractive to me. But he glowed. He was circled by a lot of other freshmen, and all of them seemed to be attracted to him like moths to a glowing lamp in the pitch dark of the night.

I had instantly been jealous, at the time. We were all new, just getting to know each other, and yet there he was cracking jokes and making other people laugh like he’d known them for years.

It wasn’t fair how easy it was for him to make friends when I was struggling to even maintain eye contact with the kid sitting next to me during the school’s opening ceremony.

His face was ingrained into the back of my mind ever since.

It wasn’t hard to find out who his name was. His name was whispered around a lot during lunch breaks for the ridiculous antics he liked to pull during classes, and the teachers liked to call him from the school’s speakers for whatever reason I never cared enough to find out.

Him and I, we belonged to different parts of the magnetic pole. He shone bright and relentlessly, like the sun that bores through the winter clouds, and I was a quiet flower that follows through my schedule of being the perfect poster-flower, blooming only when supposed to—in spring, only once a year.

But a year passed, and then another. Sometimes, he lingered in the back of my mind, and pretty much at every other corner of the school, but we never crossed paths. I didn’t intend to. I never even thought that we’d ever cross paths in our lives.

Between those years, I’d dated, fell in and out of relationships like every other shallow fifteen-year-old there is in this world. I toyed with a few guys only to dump them in the end because they turned out to be dull stories hiding behind the exterior of a luxurious and attractive book cover. Mandatorily, following the slew of relationships I fell in and out of, I finally got the taste my own medicine by getting my heart royally broken.

I stumbled upon a guy named Oh Sehun who spoke of me like I’d meant the world to him, only to find out that he had his eyes for another girl all along.

I think the pining was worse than the heartbreak itself.

I spent months trying to recover from the heartbreak, telling myself that there are plenty of other fish in the sea. Even if there aren’t any, I don’t need boys, anyway—it’s not like I’m an incomplete human being who desperately needs an other half to complete me.

But deep down inside, my friends and I all know that I’d rather have that one fish who is Oh Sehun. Somehow, to me, after the string of useless boys that did nothing but take up my time and energy, there was something beautiful about wanting someone so painfully unattainable. My friends liked to call me a cynic for that.

Then I finally met him, for real, in junior year. Byun Baekhyun, no longer the skinny, pale boy who cracked jokes for attention.

He’d grown into his features. He’d gotten taller, although not much, but he was tall enough for a five feet girl like me who’d still look like a tiny baby next to someone over the five feet five range. His pale skin was finally tanned thanks to years of soccer practices under the unforgiving sun, and the sport had gained him the muscles in all the right places. It fixed his posture for the better, too. He also learned to dress himself up, which was a definite plus point for me.

He finally looked attractive enough to me.

We’d met in a mutual friend’s birthday party, where one of my friends had entrusted Baekhyun with the task of driving me home because my ty friend—my actual ride home—didn’t want to leave the party at before the sun at least rises.

I had an embarrassing curfew that was twelve in the morning, and my parents would disown me if I dared to step my foot into home a second later than that. Coincidentally, Baekhyun at the time, also had to leave early because he had a soccer match the next morning and couldn’t afford to even drink.

He, out of all the people that could’ve driven me home from that party, had been my perfect knight in shining armor who ended up saving me from the wrath of my half-a-decade old mother.

We had arrived a little past twelve due to a traffic accident in one of the main roads that took me home, but he had charmed the pants off my mother so hard that she forgot her only daughter missed her strongly suggested curfew.

It then became a routine, somehow. Some call it fate, but I’d personally call it convenience.

Baekhyun, it turned out, lived very close to where I lived. The carpool eventually turned daily, him being a nice guy and all that, and me being the lazy sloth who never bothered to walk to school again after having the taste of the extra fifteen minutes of sleep I get thanks to the time it takes to get to school being cut in half when travelled with a car.

I found that I actually enjoyed his presence, despite my initial impression of him. Despite being polar opposites, we had similar interests after all. After that, I realized that he’s very easy in the eyes—or strikingly handsome, dare I say.

First, he liked to sing—as much as or maybe even more than I do. Turns out doing duets when your taste in music is pretty much the same with the other person feels really fulfilling. His singing voice is insanely attractive, and soon I realized everything else he did was attractive to me. I remember telling myself that I hate charming social butterflies, like Baekhyun himself, but it turns out that I hate it when their charms are not directed towards me.

Then everything he did started to become ten times even more attractive to me, even if it’s the most trivial things like brushing a leaf out of my hair, or draping a jacket over my shoulders when it gets too chilly at night.

Sometimes, on nights where we felt like we’d ate too much for dinner and didn’t deserve the drive back home, we’d walk and talk just about everything our sleep-riddled heads could think of.

So, I fell hard. Especially when he fit so well inside the hole that Sehun left inside of me for loving another girl.

It’s also kind of hard not to when his pretty smile is the first thing you see in the morning and the last one before you take a step back into your house at night, and living without him soon became unbearable. Sure, we disagreed in a lot of things, but I liked to think that the things we agreed on were gold and were far more important than things that we disagreed on.

Where will I go in life if all I do is focus on the differences I have with others, instead of the similarities?

The subtle brushes of our hands placed next to each other when we walked side by side eventually turned into casual hand-holding, and before I knew it, I’d told him that I liked him.

I remember the fireworks that exploded in my head when he had told me he liked me, as unattractive and as boring as I was compared to him, too. I’d thought that I was dreaming, and I had to catch my breath immediately after that.

We kissed a week after that, as chaste and innocent as someone’s first kiss can ever be, and I remember my legs feeling like jelly and his steady hands on my waist supporting me so I wouldn’t fall and make a fool out of myself.

A year had passed by since then, and it’s been a while since I last felt those same fireworks the night he told me he liked me too.

***

December 13th, 2017

“Do you want to watch a movie tomorrow?” Baekhyun’s voice sounds tired and muffled, like he’s talking with his mouth pressed against the pillow, and I can already imagine his droopy eyelids fighting to stay open waiting for my reply.

I mull over his invitation. The movie he suggests isn’t exactly the most exciting one, and he sounds way too tired to be spending the rest of the day after school tomorrow with me instead of just napping at home to recover for the lack of rest he’s been getting from the vigorous amount of soccer practices he’s getting before the holiday comes around.

“I think we should pass,” I answer slowly, “I don’t really like the movie.”

I opt to add that he needs the rest more than he needs to spend time with me, but I stop short knowing that he’d just whine and nag about how much time we should be spending together before he gets too busy with the upcoming season next semester.

“Okay.” His answer is curt and short, and he suddenly sounds like he’s more awake than he was. I stop scrolling over my Instagram feed, and wait for him to say anything else like he always does, but he never does.

“Baek?” I ask, confused, and it takes him a few more seconds before he finally says something.

“I’m going to sleep. Good night,” there’s an edge to his words, and I don’t know what I had said to make him so upset. I don’t get to say another word because the app exits on itself, and the sound that notifies the end of the call echoes on the walls of my bedroom as if mocking me.

He’s upset, and I know that. It’s such a Baekhyun thing to do. He likes to show me how upset he is at me without elaborating why, and leaves me hanging before I can figure out what I did wrong.

I used to think that it was cute, how he pouts like a little boy that wants his mom to pay attention to him from time to time. It was amusing for me to entertain him and his neediness. But right now, it’s making my stomach sick.

***

December 14th, 2017

My plans to come over to Baekhyun’s house with two movie tickets wearing his favorite shirt as an act of truce gets blown out of the water when he gets called in for an impromptu soccer practice. He plants a chaste kiss on my forehead and shoves a couple of five-thousand won bills onto my hands before driving away with his car to his soccer practice in a hurry.

“For the cab ride back home,” he’d said, and I look at the money on my hands with distaste, because my house is only a couple of blocks over. I could’ve just walked home instead of taking the cab. It feels like an insult that he’d give me money as if I couldn’t afford my own ride home. As if the crumpled pieces of the five-thousand won bills on my hand can make up for the time he’s not spending with me.

He’s just being thoughtful, I tell myself. It’s just his simple, childlike way of thinking. It’s cute.

Over and over again, I repeat it to myself as I walk back home in the freezing cold, until it’s ingrained into the back of my mind and the feeling of anger gets replaced with the feeling of understanding.

***

January 8th, 2018

I used to get butterflies when I come over to watch Baekhyun’s soccer practices after school, sitting on the bleachers under the sweltering sunlight while doing some of my homework.

The weather used to not matter, but today, it’s the only thing I notice and feel even though my eyes are trained on Baekhyun who’s running laps on the soccer field. It’s incredibly windy in the middle of the January, yet the sun is shining down full force, and all I want to do is go home and do anything but this. This feels unenjoyable.

Maybe it’s comfort. Maybe it’s familiarity, growing into the feeling of having butterflies until it feels like you don’t have it anymore.

“Watching your boyfriend again, shorty?” Sehun asks as he climbs up the bleachers to sit next to me, looking perfectly warm and put together—a stark contrast to my messy, cold unkempt self. I feel jealousy bubble inside of me.

I chuckle to myself at the ridiculous nickname. He used to call me that back when we had been closer to each other, before Baekhyun came along and consumed all of my time. Some things just don’t change.

“Yeah,” I reply, tucking my hair behind my ear to stop it from falling over my eyes for the nth time, “I’m waiting for him to finish his practice so we can go home together.”

“How cute of you guys. What homework are you doing?” he asks, scooting closer to me to get a glimpse of my work.

“Math. But I’m kind of out of it right now—the stupid weather is killing me. I think I’ll just finish it later at home when there’s proper heating and I’m in a fresh pair of house clothes. What are you doing here?” I switch the question towards him instead, because my day was uneventful and I know I’d bore myself to death talking about myself when Baekhyun’s going to ask me the same set of questions later on our drive back home.

“I’m here to ask Luhan hyung for a signature on a proposal for this booth I’m working on for next semester’s opening ceremony with the swimming club. Then I saw you. Thought I’d swing by and say hi—it’s been ages since I last talked to you,” he explains, crossing out some of my answers on my textbook with my pencil as he does.

He used to tutor me on math, so it only made sense that he’s already figured out all the mistakes I made in my homework just by staring at it for a few minutes.

“Thanks,” I send him a grateful smile, “but let me guess. Dunking booth?”

“How did you know! What a smart girl,” he fake gasps, placing both of his hands on his chest as an act of surprise, and I punch his shoulder lightheartedly, sticking my tongue out at his poor attempt of a joke.

“Is it that predictable?” he asks, sounding a little disappointed, head cocked to one side like it usually does when he’s upset.

“A little. But it doesn’t matter—the freshman girls would die if any of the guys from the swimming team gets dunked into the water. Even I wouldn’t miss the chance to see Chanyeol doused in water,” I pat his shoulder reassuringly. It’s true. Who in their crazy mind would pass up the chance to see the guys on the swimming team’s abs?

Sehun laughs. I never noticed that I missed seeing his eyes crinkle into a pair of little crescent moons, and I find myself laughing along with him as he does.

“Thanks, shorty,” he pats my head gently, “but I gotta get going. Looks like they’re done with their practice anyway. Catch you later!”

He waves as he jumps down the bleachers with little difficulty, and I find myself staring at his retreating back with a little sadness.

It’s easy to stay being friends with Sehun. First of all, he never learned the fact that I was in love with him even when the rest of the world noticed. Even if he did, I know that it wouldn’t change anything between us, because if there’s one thing I know about Sehun, is that he respects people’s feelings.

Sehun and I had been friends longer than I’d been in love with him, and he was always a person I had enjoyed being around with despite my attraction. He and I had the same kind of interests, so it’d be my loss if I dropped our friendship altogether just because he didn’t reciprocate my stupid feelings.

He had been understanding when I started hanging out less and less with him to hang out more with Baekhyun, and he had been very nice and friendly with Baekhyun when they both finally met. His easygoing personality made it easier for Baekhyun to like him despite knowing that he’d broken my heart.

I missed him. That doesn’t mean I miss him romantically though, I’ve finished and closed that chapter with Sehun in my book of life the moment I realized I’ll never be more than just a friend to him. Some people can still miss someone as just a friend, even if at one point in their lives they had been more than just that.

People can grow.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Baekhyun asks me, and there’s that edge to his voice that I hate so much again. This time, I know that it must’ve been Sehun’s presence that bothered him so much.

I can practically play out the scene that’s about to happen the moment the both of us get our alone time, where Baekhyun gives me the silent treatment as I ask him again and again what I did wrong. He will say that there’s nothing wrong and I’ll continue to ask him even though I know what I should say to make him feel better.

Then I will tell him that I’m sorry for talking to Sehun, even though I know that there’s nothing wrong with talking to Sehun. Even though I know that Baekhyun should learn that two people can be just friends, and there isn’t always a hidden romantic intent behind every gesture two people of the opposite gender exchange.

It’s easier to just apologize and promise that I’ll never do that again, because I know that Baekhyun is too stubborn to understand something different than what he’s been taught to understand his whole life.

I’d be lying to both of us, though, because I know I’ll still talk to Sehun if the opportunity ever comes up.

“Yeah. I’ll just pack my things for a sec,”

***

February 17th, 2018

Things aren’t always bleak with Baekhyun. We don’t fight all the time, because if we do, then one or both of us would be s, and none of us are.

Like right now, as we’re walking out of the movie theater, my stomach and cheeks hurting from the excessive amount of laughing we’ve both been doing for the past two hours.

The movie had been a comedic genius, and it baffled Baekhyun and I that the rest of the audience were practically dead silent at the times where both of us had been laughing our asses off. It got so severe to the point that the couple sitting next to us moved to another row halfway throughout the movie, and it made the both of us laugh yet even more.

“That was amazing,” I say, hugging and leaning into his arm as I continue, “I’m glad that I got to watch it with you. Had it been with anybody else, they would’ve thought that I was a freak.”

“I’m glad I watched it with you, too,” he says gently, tucking my small body under his arms, wrapping me in a tight half-hug that makes me safe and loved.

“You’re so cheesy,” I say as I cling into his sweater, taking a breath of his musky scent, listening to the stable hum of his body as he talks.

“Yeah, and that’s only because I love you.” He mutters as he kisses the top of my head. I look up to see his face, and he’s already staring back at me with a small smile on his face, eyes warm and shining, making me feel warm all over.

He looks so breathtakingly handsome today in his light blue sweater and his jeans, even with his disheveled hair, and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world knowing that I get to call him mine.

I tiptoe to give him a chaste kiss, in which he smiles into.

“Right back at you, Byun.”

***

March 9th, 2018

“It’s raining really hard out right now,” Baekhyun’s voice is staticky over the phone, and it must’ve something to do with the storm that’s practically obliterating the streets outside.

“Yeah, it’s really bad. I think I’ll just take the cab home if it doesn’t thin out in a couple of hours,” I reply, looking out the window at the raging storm. Not a single is car out in the streets of the neighborhood, and I’m a little worried that I’d never get a cab back home if it only gets worse.

“You sure? I can just pick you up and drive you home if you want me to,” he offers, voice growing tinier and tinier with each passing second.

“I’ll be fine, really. Hey babe, I’m losing you—why don’t we just continue this through LINE chat? Your voice is hardly decipherable,” I offer, ready to cut the line off.

“What? I can’t hear your voice. Should I pick you up right now?”

“No, I—”

“Hello? I’m driving there, okay? Are—” I end the call out of frustration, frustrated that the signal is so bad, and frustrated that he can’t seem to understand that I just don’t need to be picked up. He’s not my freaking chauffeur.

I used to think that his overprotectiveness was cute, but now it’s just too much of a hassle for me.

“I can’t believe it’s 2018 and phone calls still gets ed by the freaking rain. NASA can send pictures from the space to earth, goddammit,” I complain, chucking my phone onto the bed in frustration. I walk towards the bed to take the phone again, though, because I have to text Baekhyun to tell him that I don’t need him to pick me up.

Plus, it’s dangerous out there—I don’t want him to drive when the roads are hardly visible under the pouring rain.

“Whoa, chill,” Jinri laughs at my frustration from the other side of the room, “what are you—fighting with Baek or something?”

I roll my eyes at her constant positivity I hate so much, falling back into her bed with a loud thud.

“I’m not. It’s just that the stupid signal is making it impossible for me tell him to not pick me up. Look, I mean, my LINE chat’s not even getting delivered! Your house’s wi-fi , Jin,” I explain, pressing the resend option that appears right next to my chat bubble repeatedly, frustration increasing with each failed attempt to send the message.

“Why not? It’d be great if he picks you up. I don’t think you’ll get a cab anytime soon in this weather, and it’s getting closer to your curfew with each passing minute,” Jinri replies, eyebrows raised innocently as she leans on the back of her steno chair.

“It’s raining really hard out there and it’s pretty dangerous. People have been talking about us, too. His jealous fangirls think that I’m just using him for his car!”

“That’s ridiculous,” she says, getting off the chair and walking towards me, “they’d probably be shocked if they knew just how loaded you really are.”

I glance at her sharply, and she smiles sheepishly as she snuggles next to me and tucks herself under her covers.

“That’s besides the point. I just… don’t like feeling indebted to him,” I sigh, burying my face into the pillow when my phone starts to violently vibrate in my hands, indicating that Baekhyun has probably read my text and is strongly opposing it.

“You’re not supposed to feel indebted to him—he’s your boyfriend. He’s not doing things for you because he’s obligated to or because you asked him too, he does it because he loves you,” her hands are in my hair now, it softly to calm my nerves down. It feels nice, and I feel myself relaxing.

“I know,” I take a deep breath, “I should know that.”

 “If you know that, then you should stop beating yourself over it,” Jinri says tenderly, “also. Your phone’s been vibrating like crazy. You should check it out.”

“Just let it be. It’s probably Baek being upset at me for not wanting him to pick me up. He thinks it’s because I’m annoyed or him or something. Just let it be.” I mutter into the pillow, ashamed that I have to tell my own best friend about how childish my boyfriend is.

“You’re gonna ignore him like that? That’s just going to make matters worse, you know that, right?”

“It’s not my job to tell him everything he should already know,” I turn around, facing Jinri’s beautiful face to show her the frown that’s etched on my face.

“Of course it isn’t your job. But you tell him that because both of you are in a relationship, and you guys love each other! You make it seem that you’re fighting him, when the both of you should instead fight the problem,” Jinri reprimands, sitting up to fold her arms under her chest, as if making sure that she’s getting her point across to me.

I stare at her blankly. What she said makes sense. I’m supposed to fight the problem, not Baekhyun himself. The realization feels suffocating, because somehow, I feel like the problem is as a huge, ugly monster consisting of things he does I no longer tolerate anymore that I don’t have the heart to tell him.

“Hey, you okay?” Jinri’s voice softens, looking at me now with worry.

“I am,” I sigh, turning over to face the other side of the bed, “I’m just a little tired, that’s all. And you’re right. But I just need a little bit more time before I can tell him that.”

“Yeah, I—I don’t know why I got so upset. I shouldn’t have said that, it wasn’t my place to. I’m sorry. Now let me be your big spoon,” Jinri apologizes, slipping into the covers behind me, and proceeds to wrap her arms around my stomach like she always does every time I sleep over at her house.

“I missed this,” I say truthfully, and I can feel her smile on my shoulder.

“Me too. This is nice. You should come over for dinner again sometime soon. Just the two of us, not talking about boys or anything at all. Why don’t you just sleep over today? It’s not like we have school tomorrow,” she offers lightheartedly.

I smile at the idea.

“That sounds great. I’ll call my mom in a bit. For now, can we just stay like this?”

“Aww, okay. We don’t have to talk about anything involving boys tonight. I mean, whatever fight you’re having with Baekhyun doesn’t matter, because you love him and that’s all that matters, right?”

My heart skips a beat.

“Yeah.”

***

April 3rd, 2018

We’re sitting on Baekhyun’s bed, half watching the Disney movie that’s playing on the TV, half doing our physics homework with much difficulty.

“This is highly unproductive,” Baekhyun announces, throwing his body into the bed dramatically with a loud sigh.

“You’re being dramatic,” I chuckle, rolling my eyes at his exaggeration, “come here and finish this. We have our finals next week, Baek, and I don’t want you to fail.”

He stays mum, eyes closed with his hands placed behind his head, not responding to a single word I just said. I shrug, then continue to do my homework. I change my answer on the fourth question for the nth time, and it frustrates the living hell out of me that this is homework is so hard, but I don’t want to show it in front of Baekhyun.

If he realizes that I’m frustrated too, he’ll probably make us both ditch our homework and do something else altogether that I wouldn’t be able to refuse. I press my lips together to stop myself from sighing.

“I know you want to give up,” Baekhyun singsongs, and I hate how easy he’s able t