He was a calm whisper of wind across my face in the dead months of summer. The heat was unbearable, and he was the cool breeze to my heated skin. He pranced around me, teasing me with his chilled skin. Just out of reach. Just out of reach.

He was ethereal. He was all curves, soft skin, and a soft light that seemed heavenly. A smooth voice that matched his overall heavenly appearance. And honestly, he stole my heart in under five seconds.

The end of summer was always terrible. The air you breathed was dry, but the air around you was humid, it seemed. The sun was most too bright, and everyone seemed to drag themselves class to class. Their flip-flops made obnoxious sounds hitting the sidewalk, and the girls; the girls were the worst.

They showed more skin. Sleeveless tops, low cut, and sometimes strapless. They were so soft, and glistened, and seemed to never smell anything but a flowery scent that wafted through the air at the most inconvenient times.

But Luhan, this angelic creature from a place not too far from my home, smelled of cherry blossoms. I never figured it out, but when he would lean over me, teasing, fix my hair, or give another excuse, I smelled it. It filled every thought I was having, every sense I possessed, then he would pull away, flashing the innocent smile that suited him so well.

He played around my heart for two years, texting smiles, tightening my tie, all while skipping delicately over my longing gazes. He knew, he knew as he got inches from my face then flicked my forehead. He knew as our fingertips brushed, my face flushed and a mischievous glint in his eyes was shown. He knew.

He always caught me staring, caught me counting the times he bit his lip in frustration during literature, caught me counting his smiles in mathematics. He would tap his fingers on the desk, and shake his leg out of habit. He dozed off about halfway through history, to wake up quickly, wide eyed and almost fearful. He calmed, and moved closer to me. He knew.

He would dance his fingers up my arm at the cafe, talking with another friend across the table. He drew designs on my skin as he spoke in soft tones, talking about something of no significance. He would steal glances at me every minute or so. He knew.

And one day, three years later, I snapped. He had his arms around my neck in the cold winter. My jacket around his shoulders as he shivered, biting his lips. He was all a lie.

"You know it. You've known for years," I murmured, my fingers tightening their grip around his thin hips.

"Known wh-"

"You're not perfect. You have flaws."

"I know that, but Se-"

He just wouldn't stop speaking, and that second in time, I was sure I was bruising him. "Your eyes are too far spaced apart. Your chin is too...too long."

I realized I was laughing, "You make the stupidest faces when you think, and when you laugh. Your eyebrows are too thick for your face, and you're way too thin. It's almost sickly."

He was shaking in my palms. His hands were balled into fists that hit against my chest. His cheeks were wet, and vaguely, I could hear him screaming as I kept speaking.

"You walk awkwardly, like you're in pain, like the muscle of your thigh has been bruised, hurt somehow. Your lips aren't proportional, the top one is too...too drawn. It overlaps the bottom one. And your teeth...the top row, they're too big." I just wanted to hear myself speak at this point. Luhan's screaming was blocked out at this point, but I could still feel his fists beating on my chest as I held him.

I ended up with a black eye sitting outside Jongin's house. He wouldn't let me in. I should have known Jongin would be the first person he called. The first person he cried to.

But if I must say anything nice about Luhan, the er can hit...hard.