My imagination about our first meeting after all these years without talking and all is nowhere near this situation. I imagine you smiling at the altar with the one you love. Not with you laying lifelessly on this bed.

When my brother drag me to airport, I couldn’t even thinking anything. I just follow him around. Shock is getting the best of me. Who will not after you hear the one you love is on the brink of death? He is currently fighting between life and death.

I feel numb. Even when everyone hug me. Even when your mother cried on my shoulder, I can’t feel anything. I hold his hand, slightly afraid if I will hurt him if I put even a small force on my hand. This hand, I remember always feels warm. These hands always protect me from any harm.

Those beautiful eyes are closed tightly. Those pink lips are pale. Your face full of bruise and scratches.

I imagine once, that the day when we finally see each other again, it will be full with smile and hug. That day, I imagine that we are leaving our problems behind. Just like you and me. Just like us before.

This is breaking my heart. I start to cry. My first love is here, right in front of me. He should be smiling happily, telling me that he is happy I can make it to his wedding. Not this. I let him go to have his happiness. But what happen?

What makes you in this state?

I just sit in there, holding his hand while praying for his safety.

“Hey,” My voice cracks. “Are you in so much pain?”

There is no answer from him. But I can almost hear him says, “You finally come when I injure myself?”

That’s exactly what he will say when he had this injury before. It was long time ago. That day, I remember I avoid him after I realized I fell for him.

First love, they said.

First love? I think everyone have their own first love. The feeling of butterfly effect every time the one we like around is so addicting. It feels good.

When did you fall for someone for the first time? What special moment? Who is the special person?

I believe, everything is special.

I do remember mine as well. My first love, it was him. The man who is laying on this bed. Oh Sehun is his name. My own best friend.

Back in the middle school. I remember that day clearly. We just hangout after school end, like usual. With our home next to each other and we were best friend since forever, went to school and home with Sehun was something normal. Nothing special. That time, he used one of his favorite baseball cap with one of his favorite hoodie –he claimed— that I gave him on his birthday. We were on eight grade that time. With rain drops behind us, I realized, he was the one. My first love.

#Back to the middle school

The wind is annoyingly messing with my hair. It’s been my nth time to tie my hair but wind and my hair decide to betray me. Above my head, clouds start to accumulate. I think –no, I have this strong feeling – it is going to be raining anytime soon.

The time is ticking. I almost hear my own wristwatch sound. It’s been what? 20 minutes? Or less? Or more? I almost finish sketching the whole school! But this annoying Oh Sehun still not here yet. I thought he mention that his practice will end twenty minutes ago?! Yet not even his shadow greets me.

Reluctantly, I pull myself from the wall, straighten up from my position. Should I go to the studio? Oh, I don’t really like when there is open practice because it’s too much to handle. Girls will flocking around and screaming as if they are watching some kind of concert.

Should I go home by myself?

My stomach grumbles. Fine. I’m hungry –again. Gah! Blame it on my group mate for today’s assessment. If not for their laziness, I will have my lunch peacefully. But no. They decide to inform me the last minute that our presentation is not done yet. I have to rush to the library where everyone agree to meet to finish it.

Huft. I think I have no choice. Sehun will get mad if I left him, for sure. I know his temper well enough. I close my sketchbook, put my pencil inside my pencil case. Slinging my bag on my shoulder, halfheartedly, I walk to dance studio.

“Saehee-ah!”

Oh. Thank goodness. I never feel so happy to hear his voice before. But I do now. Sehun runs to my direction, all smiley and sweaty. This prick! I swear he has no guilt after what? Make me wait him for years!

“Ya! Stop scowling. You look uglier.” He slings his arm around me, head locking me. The nerve!

I jab his stomach. He grumbles in protest. “Wae?” He whines.

“Can’t you take a bath first?!”

“Other girls will die to smell my sweat just now, y’know?”

I roll my eyes. This thick face person always so full of himself. “Yeah. Until they know your dirty little secret. Should I—”

“Ya!” He headlock me once again.

“Ya! Ya! Let me go. I won’t I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” He lets me go instantly. Being cheeky myself, I decide to more. “Crossing fingers. Mehrong!”