This chapter was longer than I expected. The previous chapters were just 2.2k - 2.4k long, I think? But this one is 3k long.
-
Anyway, this chapter is kind of a fast paced because Jinyoung wants me to write a lot of scenes but I don't want this fic to reach 10 chapters. So this chapter is kind of a summary of what happened for the past weeks and... I love the ending part of this.

---

“So what's the real deal between you two?” Dahyun asks as she snakes her arm around Alya's.

Alya and Jinyoung were walking towards the school when they saw Dahyun together with her brother and cousin--Jackson and Younghyun--from the distance.

Now, the young lady is glued on her, itching to know what's between her and her best friend.
 

Jackson has asked one time, with a hint of jealousy in his voice, why the two would always disappear when they're all supposed to spend some time together. He apt to being sulky; he doesn't like it when he's being left out. He used to not speak with Bambam for weeks when he found out he went to eat pork ribs with Yugyeom and they haven't invited him. Other times, Jinyoung would bring up the time that Jackson had meat with Bambam, and only ramen with him, and would act all salty about it, too, to tease the other.

Although Jackson has queried out of curiosity, not wanting for Alya and Jinyoung to eat, something that they might have discovered like a treasure, without him knowing, he also hinted that there might be something going on between them. It was seconded by Bambam, saying that he noticed how Jinyoung couldn't take his hand off of Ayla.

Youngjae agreed and told them that time the older shoved his hand off Alya's shoulder and put his arm around her instead. He didn't mind it but when the guys brought the topic, he recalled all those times when Jinyoung would drape his arm around Alya.

“I've always been like this,” he defended.

“Yeah, like when we were kids?” Yugyeom stated matter-of-factly.

“I don't see anything wrong,” he furrowed his forehead “She and Youngjae always hug and cross-arms with each other, so why can't I?”

“Well,” Bambam slanted his head, thinking of what to reason, “it's Youngjae.” He pointed out, confident that the name Youngjae itself is enough reason. They all understood.

It's Youngjae. He's warm, like that ray of the sun--which is why Alya gave him the nickname ‘Sunshine'.

“And you've been less savage towards her,” Bambam added, “you've been more considerate?”

“He has always been considerate and caring,” Alya finally interposed.

During those kind of times, Mark would always throw a knowingly look at them. Jaebum would low key tease, if he's around.

 

“Stop trying to look y, Bro,” Alya threw a pillow at her brother.

“I'm not y. I'm cute,” he corrected. “Wanna know who's y?” he smiled teasingly and jerked his head, motioning the younger to look behind.

A teenage boy, wearing a white sleeveless shirt, preparing some coffee welcomed her sight. The teenager's arms were exposed, and Alya found her gaze lingering for three or more seconds. His arms weren't really toned, but he's not the skinny type either. There were some muscles.

Alya doesn't really like muscles--especially the firm ones. She prefers the cuddly type. Yet, seeing the uncovered arms, that only let themselves be shown once in a blue moon, made her chest feel the tingles. His disheveled hair didn't help her to normalize the speed of the hammering on her chest. It multiplied instead.

Maybe it's just because he rarely--very rarely--shows his arms, and even legs, that I'm feeling this way. Alya mentally nodded to herself.

When she flipped her head back to her brother with her forehead wrinkled, the older was already smirking. His eyes were forming a horizontal line.

 

Jinyoung hasn't actually told anyone about what he feels. Nor has he confirmed anything. Yet, two of the oldest among them knows.

There wasn't a single word about it that was shared among the three of them.  No need for words to explain or for them to confabulate. It's a silent understanding.

When Mark told Jinyoung to stop dragging, the younger knew exactly what he meant. And Mark knew he understood.

When Jinyoung waited for Alya the next morning after they went to the base--that day when they were all supposed to see the two of the oldest after class--Jaebum was with him outside the gate. They were catching up. Their lips talked about various things and their eyes were talking about another thing.

Jinyoung confirmed that it was Jaebum who took the pictures, that were lying on their dining table, when the older's eyes land on him. He was wearing a black beanie and a black hoodie with ‘hardcore’ in Old English typeface embroidered on its upper left and full of cat's hair.

When the older asked the black haired how were things going when he was away, his eyes told him to take care of his sister and that he's the only person he can trust her with. When Jinyoung told him that the guys wanted to cut class to see them, his eyes spoke about not worrying about it and he'll surely take care of her.

Sometimes, Mark wants to question Jinyoung's way but would keep mum about it instead.

For the past weeks, Alya managed to make herself think that what Jinyoung's always doing is normal, and that she must not put any meaning behind it.

Their reading session continued. They do it every Wednesdays to Fridays. Sometimes, even on weekends. And every single time, their hands are laced with each other.

There were times that Alya craved for it. Like that one time when they were watching a horror movie, to which Jackson and Youngjae strongly opposed, in Jinyoung's house. Alya would eye the black haired's hand from time to time. She was holding a container with popcorn, trapped between her belly and legs that were pulled up on the sofa. Jinyoung, on her right, would get some with his right hand, and his left hand just laid on the space between them.

Alya felt weird. It's like something's missing--like a piece in a puzzle. She glanced at Jinyoung who's focused on the screen--he loves horror. When her eyes dropped on his hand, she slowly reached for it not-so-unconsciously. She put her hand right beside his, and raised her pinky to brush his.

Jinyoung felt that. He could also sense Alya's hesitation and embarrassment. So before the brunette could pull her hand away, Jinyoung clasped it with his. The black haired turned to her with full of tenderness on his face. He pulled her and motioned her to scoot closer to him. And so she did.

Jackson fell asleep on the floor while hugging Yugyeom's arm. Youngjae curled himself into a ball. Mark was on the other couch. And Bambam went to Jinyoung's room after the movie.

Alya remembered Jinyoung slowly putting her head on his shoulder when she was still awake. What she couldn't remember was if they lied down on the sofa when the movie was over, arms wrapped around each other, or if she fell asleep while the film was still on screen. Nevertheless, she liked it. She liked the feeling of waking up with Jinyoung's arms tangled around her, and seeing his sleeping face first thing in the morning.

It has become normal that every time Jinyoung would extend his arms, Alya would instantly tangle herself around him; that every time they ride a bus, Jinyoung would rest his hand--that's spread--on his lap, and Alya would fill the spaces between his fingers and lean on him.

They seem like a couple. Everything they do shouts they are in love. But they seem to have earplugs on that they couldn't hear it when all of the people around them could.

The guys were right, too. Jinyoung has become less savage and more considerate towards her.

Whenever they'd eat together, Jinyoung would used to always take Alya's food away. He'd scold her for arriving late so he'd eat a piece of meat from her plate. But when they ate out one night, Jinyoung has ordered spicy kimchi stew because Alya loves spicy--forgetting Jackson couldn't take it.

They were all already settled on their seats--including Jaebum, who's the reason for the gathering--except for Alya and Dahyun who came a little later. When the two girls showed up, Jinyoung met her gaze as if talking to her to sit beside him. He asked if she was hungry and took a bowl and put soup in it, placing it beside Alya's plate. He also placed some cooked meat. Alya mouthed ‘thank you’ when they were suddenly interrupted by Jackson's scream. He had to take off his shirt because he was sweating a lot.

“Man, you know I can't eat spicy food!”

Jinyoung, feeling a little bit guilty but didn't show it, averted his eyes and nudged Alya to take a bite of her food.
 

Remembering those times makes Alya's throat go dry. “There's really nothing, Dubu,” she tells Dahyun but it's more like she's telling it to herself--convincing her heart that there's really nothing.

“Girl, you can't lie to me,” she darts her eyes on the brunette's. “I know you've been in love with him for a very long time. And as far as I know, he also--”

A voice calling Dahyun interrupts their conversation. They look ahead and see four girls looking at her--one girl, it's Sana, is waving. Dahyun huffs a breath before staring back at her. She levels her right index and middle fingers with her eyes and flips them towards Alya's eyes, as if telling the wavy haired that she's watching. Dahyun unties her arm with Alya's and dashes towards her friends. Her cousin, Younghyun, follows. Jackson, on the other hand, whines when Jinyoung walks beside Alya.

“So, that's it?” he accuses. “I'll be left out again? Aren't I your friend, huh?”

Jinyoung just smiles. His eye wrinkles are showing.

When they step foot inside the school premises, Alya is enveloped by the judgmental gazes. She shivers from the cold lingering eyes on her. This is another thing that has become normal in her life the past weeks.

Perhaps Jinyoung notices how Alya suddenly becomes tensed that he drapes an arm around her shoulders again. The tautness is subtle, but there's no subtle when it comes to Alya--except the change of tempo of her heartbeat. Certainly, Jinyoung can't sense that. He doesn't know how much he affects Alya; and vice versa.

There's another rumor going around the campus. That Alya resorted to dating her best friend and flirting with her other guy friends because the campus prince dumped her. It makes her feel so small whenever her feelings is being questioned. She's always genuine but they always call her fake. There's no way she's that sweet and kind, right? But she is. And they're just envious.

Every time she'd lace her arms around Youngjae, or rest her head on his shoulder, students would look at her captiously and smirk. When they see Jinyoung or Jackson draping an arm around her, they'd scrunch their noses in disgust. If Yugyeom and Bambam would rest their arm on her head, making her like a stand, they'd laugh at her pitifully.

She'd act like she doesn't mind all the time. But her knees get weak and she wants to cry sometimes. As they walk, The wavy haired catches a pair of eyes looking at her differently. She's sure it wasn't Arthur who started the rumor. It must be Ra Hee, Arthur's closest girl friend. And she's becomes more and more sure every time they meet eyes--his gaze speaks longing.

“I'll walk you to your class again, okay?” Jinyoung states. The brunette declines but the black haired insists.

Thankfully, Youngjae is standing by the corridor outside their classroom. Jinyoung reaches for Alya's hand and squeezes it for a second before motioning her to go inside with Youngjae.

When the moon takes its shift, and the sun goes away, Alya hears two taps on her window. Feeling drained from putting up with the stares she's getting the whole day, she drags her feet to open the windows connected to Jinyoung's.

When they were little, they begged their parents to let their rooms connect because it was so troublesome to go down, out of the house and get inside the other's house. They preferred walking a few steps and voila! They're in the other's room. So Jinyoung's uncle made a bridge between their rooms that are athwart each other.

They stopped using it when Alya got more conscious about being a girl though--when she started having her period and Jinyoung was starting to get taller.

“What?” She spits as soon as she opens the window.

Jinyoung waves his hand, motioning her to step aside, and goes inside Alya's room. He scans the room for a second before looking at Alya again.

They proceed to the balcony and the black haired instantly started a topic. They talk about childhood once again; how their parents would panic when they wake up and see that one is missing, only to find out he or she slept in the other's room.

“What is important is knowing that you also have limits,” Jinyoung suddenly utters what he has intended to talk about. He's leaning on the railings, body facing the wall, head tilted up, eyes looking at the stars, and both hands in his pocket.

Alya, recognizing the familiar phrase from the book he has lent her, furrows her brows. “Then a realization opens?” She continues the statement, not sure why her best friend brought it up. She, on the other hand, is leaning forward on the railing, forearms resting on it, body bending a bit, and eyes on the trees across the street.

“Do you know how to have limits?” Jinyoung quizzes, making Alya's forehead wrinkles more. “See? That's why you don't realize what you need to. Stop loving people so lavishly.”

Alya straightens up and tightens her jaw. She feels a pang on her chest. What's this about?

“But I don't see anything wrong with that, Nyoung,” she faces him but the other just stares on the wall in front of him. “Some people are struggling because they are drowning in hate. They are suffocated by loathe and unforgiveness.”

“But you do it too much.”

She feels herself shiver from fear. Is he the same with the others? Is he disgusted by it, too? She gulps as she gathers some courage to speak. “There's nothing wrong with that.”

“No,” he turns to her. “Don't tell me you don't care about not receiving enough kind of bullsh*t.” Alya almost took a step back with her best friend's remark. She blinks instead and makes her fist into a ball. “Fine, let's say you really don't. But at least give yourself some, too. Don't you realize it?”

She suddenly finds it hard to breathe--as if an unexpected weight was put on her chest. What does she not realize?

“You're giving people too much because you're afraid of being alone. You think if you give them more, they'll stay. You give too much love but you hate yourself, you can't forgive yourself.”

Alya's shoulders are moving up and down noticeably. She clenches her fists more. “Stop,” she manages to say. Tears are teasing to fall.

“You hate yourself and you keep blaming yourself because you think it's your fault that people leave; that it's your fault that your father left. You give too much because you don't want to be like your mother, whom you think hasn't given enough that your father went to find what's lacking to someone else.”

“I said stop!” A tear finally drops. And then another one.

“It's fine if people don't know how to give back equally to what you've given because we're here,” the faces of their friends flash on her mind. More tears travel down her face. “It's okay to be alone sometimes because at the end of the day, you still have us. You don't need to worry about other people leaving your life and you'll end up alone because you never will. If they leave, it's their loss. They wouldn't find another you who can love them so much without any demand.”

He finally reaches for her. He encloses him in his arms and lets her sob.

“We can fill the void that other people has caused you,” he pauses as his hand travels up. He caresses her hair. “So, yeah. I think it's okay to love so much and forgive them easily. I just have to love you twice more than what you give to them. I can do that. But you have to learn how to give to yourself, too, because that void--it's only you who can heal that."

She sniffs and nods before she finally reciprocates Jinyoung's hug. She tightens her hold and weeps some more.

Even though she wanted him to stop, she's grateful that he didn't. He could just have let her say all of her frustration and listen to her sympathetically but he pushed her to the edge instead and slapped hurtful yet truth words on her face. He believes in her that she's strong enough to handle it.

And maybe Jinyoung's right, she thinks. Maybe what she needs to do is start forgiving herself--stop hating and start loving. It wasn't her fault, right? If she starts gathering the courage to avoid fearing of being alone, and focus more on the people who's giving her a lot, she doesn't really need a lot of people. It's the quality, isn't it? Why did she forget it? Why did she forget that even if other people will leave her, she has them and she will never be alone?

“You don't need that bastard prince, okay? You're no damsel in distress.” Alya chuckles and leans back as she hits Jinyoung's chest playfully. The black haired doesn't let go of her. “You're a warrior of your own.”

Alya tangles her arms back around her best friend's torso. They stare at each other for a moment before she smiles softly.

“Thank you,” she mouths.

Jinyoung beams wide, showing whiskers beside his eyes, and ruffles the brunette's hair. He pulls her closer to embrace her tight once more. The other obliges.

The wavy haired lets herself melt in the black haired's hold. She sure has realized something but she still didn't realize what Jinyoung really meant.