I wanted him.

                That’s what I decided when I saw Chanyeol for the first time in the park, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration, a sketchbook in his lap, charcoal in hand.  I wanted to skip through meadows with him and feed him grapes while lying in a hammock and press him up to the willow tree he was sketching beneath and kiss him full on the mouth.  But I wasn’t so great with professing my love—or infatuation, I later decided—to people, especially those I had never even met.  That first time, I stared for just a moment and left promptly, shuddering at the feeling that twisted in the pit of my stomach.  He was just attractive, that’s all.

               The second time I saw him was during a quick evening run, and I ventured closer, lingering around the park benches, casually glancing in his direction.  He was adorable, to say the least.  There was something about the way he scrunched up his face when he drew that made my heart lurch and my fingertips tingle.

                Eventually I came to the park simply to ogle at him as he sat on the green lawn beside the tree, and I pretended to scroll through songs on my iPod as I kept him in my peripheral vision.

                It wasn’t until a few weeks had passed that I met him.  I had gone to the park to do my usual Chanyeol-watching when I realized he wasn’t there, which was impossible because he was there every day.  I sat on the park bench for a few moments, strangely devastated, and finally stood up to make my way to the tree.  I stared up at it, trying to make sense of what was so fascinating about the plant that made him want to draw it all the time.  I must have been looking blankly at the tree for half an hour before I snapped out of it and rubbed the dryness from my eyes.

                “Looking for me?”

                I jumped, scared out of my wits, turning to face the owner of the deep, masculine voice, only to find myself face-to-face with Chanyeol.  Terrified, I could only gape at him wordlessly.  He didn’t seem angry or afraid, and the playful smirk on his face couldn’t have been any cuter, so I decided it was okay to open my mouth.

                “No, I was just admiring this tree.”  I felt a drop of sweat forming on the back of my neck.

                “Oh, is that so?  Is that what you’ve been doing for the past three weeks?  Honestly, it’s quite creepy, being stared at by some old guy.”

                I scoffed.  “Old guy?  I’m still in college for Christ’s sake.”

                “I’m in high school.”

                “High school?” I squeaked, realizing that he was right, that I was a creepy old guy.

                But he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, chuckling at my shock.  “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.  I’ll be an adult in six months.”

                “You know, it isn’t very smart to share personal information with strangers, especially those that watch you secretly on a regular basis.”

                “I know, but you don’t seem dangerous.  You seem,” he paused, “gentle.”

                “Gentle.”

                “Yeah, gentle.  What’s your name anyway?”  This kid had guts.

                “Kris.  What’s yours?”

                “Well, it wouldn’t be very smart to share that, now would it?”  He crossed his arms, tucking his sketchbook against his chest, the smirk on his face growing.

                “I thought I was gentle.”

                “Looks are deceiving.”

                “What’s your name?”

                He laughed a large, booming laugh and stuck out his hand to shake mine.  “Chanyeol.  It’s nice to meet you, I guess.”

                “Yeah, nice to meet you.”

                He smiled then, and the way our eyes locked, the way our hands melded together, I knew that I’d make him mine.

                That he would be mine forever.