~

I walked through the halls reading through the final piece that I had written on Iniya and the need to be more accepting of diversity. I had managed to type up my final draft of the article in the space pf two weeks. Looking at my handywork, I felt good that this was something truly informative and not another round of 'date spots' and other interests. I was aware that it might not help much and some of these copies might even end up in the dump, but my conscious wouldn’t let me rest for not having tried at all.

There were late nights where I was running around in preparation and trying to meet all of my deadlines, plus helping halmeoni out.

To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement especially with the deadlines I had to meet, but it was all worth it. Especially when I saw the smile on Iniya’s face as I gave her the translated version of her special. I smiled, remembering how she was telling me how after the newspaper was published people recognised her and that the treatment from other students were a bit more accepting, although not much from people outside of campus. It wasn’t a huge turn-around, but it was better than leaving it to dust.

I folded the paper in my bag and continued my journey to the art department to prepare material for the fair. With help from one of the girls I had befriended from the Journalism society, I was able to access the free room. You would think for an open fair run by fellow third-year students they would let you set up a tiny stall for free. That wasn’t the case.

In exchange for the small time in the hall, I was given the deal of cleaning it up once the day was done. I didn’t take much time in accepting, as I proposed it all last minute I wasn’t necessarily in a position to be stating my own conditions.

Since Bo-Ra, Ji-Soo and Myung-Soo were the only ones who had offered genuine help before, I had let them know and we were supposed to be meeting up this evening to get started on a few banners and signs. I wasn’t sure if they would all make it, but I would be getting it done with or without them.

Walking into the room felt nostalgic of my years in the high school art department. I’ve always loved art, but I’ve never been confident enough to show my work to anyone. Whenever I had the time I would doodle and even paint, but as the reality that I would never be able to show or do anything with my pieces, I gradually stopped.

Sitting down on one of the stools, I swiped a piece of A3 paper, a few paint brushes and pens and started to work on the signs. I wasn’t Picasso, but I was trying.

When I heard the door to the studio open sometime later, I didn’t look up, expecting it to be the gang.

“You’re all late… I think this calls for a free meal later.” I jested, my hands delicately tracing words on the sheet. I looked up from my sheet with a smile, but that was until I saw Seung-Ho. He really had a way of wiping the smile off of my face as well as producing one on it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, definitely not having expected him. I didn’t need to ask really, it’s quite obvious that one of the others had sent him over as an attempt to get him to apologise for what he said. I didn’t need the apology though, but if he was going to give it…

“Don’t need help?”

“No.” Was my instinctive response. His tone came out monotone, robotic almost so I couldn’t feel even an ounce of sincerity from him. It was becoming clearer that he was pushed to come here.

He looked taken aback for a moment and just stood there for a little while, rubbing the back of his neck not knowing what to do or say.

I continued with my sign and dismissed him calmly. “Thanks, but you can leave now.” As I said that, I was expecting to hear the sound of footsteps retreating, but I didn’t. He hadn’t moved, and he stood there as if his damn feet were glued to the floor.

“I said it’s okay, I thought you said I shouldn’t waste my time? I really don’t want to waste any of your time so please, just go-” He cut me off with a simple question.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, still calm but from the way his eyebrows creased together I could tell he was a little frustrated.

“W-what? Do what?” I looked up to him, trying not to be fazed by it.

“You always take what I say the wrong way.”

“I didn’t have to take anything the wrong way. Your words were pretty straightforward the other day Seung-Ho-yah.”

If anything I should be asking him that question. Why do you always go from one emotion to the other, leaving me utterly confused.

He let out some air from his mouth and my mouth drifted to the lower half of his face, I bit the inside of my tongue, hating myself for thinking about how soft they looked in such a moment.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” That was his version of an apology. I guess he didn’t say anything that really needed an apology, it was his opinion after all. Despite it being said in a rude way.

“Do you know what, I’m sure you didn’t. I’m at fault for misunderstanding, how’s that?” I offered, I didn’t have much time on my hands this evening hence why I had asked for help from the others, but I guess they had their own plans. This was my attempt at cutting the conversation off as I took out another piece of A3 paper and began my artwork.

This time I had really expected to hear him leave, but once again I was wrong. I heard the sound of a stool scraping the floor and I watched him sit down.

I didn’t utter another word to him, but I continued with the character on the paper in front of me. I was trying very hard to focus on steadying my hand and trying not to take notice of his presence. I was doing pretty well until in my peripheral vision I could see his hands moving around. At first, I thought he was actually planning to help, until a splodge of purple paint appeared on my sheet.

I didn’t move for another second and then another splodge appeared. I shot my eyes up to look at him.

He held the paintbrush between his fingers, his face expressionless but there was a glint that was present in his eyes that brought me to one conclusion.

He was enjoying this.

I ran my tongue across my teeth and decided to ignore him, a splodge of paint could be easily turned into something else.

When he did it a third time, he drew a circle in the corner of my paper and beyond my own constraints I reached out with an aim of taking the brush out of his hand, but my fingers slipped, covering his own hand instead.

I didn’t move again as I was trying to settle whatever sensation it was that was spreading through my fingers and into my heart. The words I was going to use to tell him to stop were lodged in my throat and all I did was stare at him. He didn’t seem affected, because all he did was stare at me with that same expressionless face, but this time there was a small tug at the corner of his lips.

That look woke me up and I quickly removed my hand from his, before using my other one which contained my wet brush and slid it across his face. I didn’t hold in my laughter when I noted the shock on his face, I was pretty accurate with the positioning of the red line across his nose.

“See, if you had just kept to yourself I wouldn’t have had to paint you.” I reasoned, despite feeling bad it was still funny, but out of respect I had reduced to giggles instead of a full-on laugh. I grabbed the closest cloth I could see and handed it to him.

“What an excuse…” He breathed, taking the cloth and dabbing at his face aimlessly. Leaning forward slightly, I took hold of the cloth and dabbed at the mark that I had made. It hadn’t dried yet, so in silence I managed to get majority of it off, but the redness was still there. I went to wet the cloth and got back to cleaning his face, why I didn't just give him the cloth again I don't know.

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke, breaking the quiet we had created.

I paused, only moving my eyes upwards to inspect him and quickly moving them away, continuing to work at the red spot on his face. “Depends.”

“D-does Myung-Soo magic really exist?”

I stopped all movements, shifting my body back to my seat. I was surprised at the question and I hoped I didn’t show him just how much. Myung-Soo magic had been a running gag for a while now, but he never really said anything about it. He would usually laugh it off, the last time we mentioned it was the night we went bowling and even then, he was quiet.

I almost questioned whether he had been thinking about it since then, but I didn’t. That would have been a stupid question with a very obvious and disappointing answer.

How was I supposed to respond? I usually denied it jokingly, but he was asking me in such a serious manner I didn’t think I could.

I cleared my throat, “Well, yeah I guess in a way it does.”

“Ah.” He bobbed his head slowly, as he examined the wet paint brush on the table.

“Why the random question?”

“…”

“Oh? You two already made up!” I craned my neck to the entrance where Myung-Soo and Ji-Soo were walking in.

“We didn’t have anything to make up.” I returned, because technically, we didn’t.

“See, Seung-Ho, I told you it wasn’t worth it.” Bo-Ra poked her head in between the boys arms, bringing the