"Love is too strong a word to say it too early, but it has too a beautiful meaning to say it too late."

ミ★~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~★彡

Wooyoung’s POV

            Jieun’s annoyed expression was seriously cute, only confirming the fact that she did falter whenever she was with me. On regular days I would never pay much attention to the quiet girls, assuming they had their reasons to be the silent type but after getting to know Jieun a little more since the musical it seemed so evident that she just needed a push into the social circle. The rest of the musical students left for home, separately preparing songs to be chosen for the graduation ceremony tomorrow and even Ms. Kim decided to leave Jieun and I alone in the theatre. I plopped down to sit on the side of the stage and smiled innocently at the aggravated girl who stood with her back facing me and her arms crossed. It was amusing how even though we were both seniors in high school about to graduate, she could still pull off acting so childish and blameless.

            “Yah, Jieun,” I called with a normal speaking voice. I thought she would give in and respond but she didn’t. Was teasing her that big of a mistake? Looking up at the ceiling of dancing lights I sighed before calling her again in a softer voice,

            “Jieun?” Her head turned slightly and she was glaring at me. I tilted my head over to the other side and pushed,

            “Did I hurt your feelings?” I sat with my palms against the edge of the stage, gently kicking my feet back and forth for preoccupation. My sound of my heels colliding with the side of the stage made loud, rhythmic thumps that filled the periodic silences.

            “Tch,” she breathed and turned completely away from me again. There was no way she could stay mad for this long. I can boldly say that I know a lot of general info about girls and if anything, the silent types like Jieun were the most forgiving—usually. I eyed her shoulders rising and falling with every breath she took before standing up quietly. It seemed like she was too infuriated with my past teasing to notice my footsteps as I approached her from behind and gingerly wrapped my arms around her, my hands making contact at her belly button. I took another glance at her shoulders, which had completely frozen and my arms resting at her stomach couldn’t feel her metrical breathing either. I rested my chin on her right shoulder and looked up towards her face filled with utter shock. Her eyes were wide open, not blinking once. There was something else I learned about girls and their reactions in these types of situations, and considering the fact that Jieun and I weren’t dating, I gave her until a count of five to push me away and slap me across the face but to my surprise, her breathing slowly grew stronger. Other than the rise and fall of her stomach she remained still and it felt as if the only people present in the world right now were the two of us. After a few more seconds to savour the moment, I dropped my hands back to my side and took two steps back. Sequentially, she turned around to face me; her expression was unreadable but I noticed a light shade of pink on the apples of both her cheeks—definitely not make up. Even two feet away I could see every detail of her face perfectly and only noticed now that other than onstage, she practically never wore make-up. The fact that she only wore contacts on stage made me start to wonder how insecure she was, but with less than one month left of school I was certain I could break through her insecure boundaries. I didn’t want to be conceited but it really did seem like she felt something for me since the yearend musical.

            “You said you wrote the ‘perfect’ graduation song?” I reminded, now smiling again to ease the awkward tension. It was rare for me to let awkward silences slip in unnoticed; maybe that’s why I’m such a social butterfly. The light pink in her cheeks grew a shade darker after my question, opening a centimeter as if she wanted to speak but no words came out. I gave her mind some time to process her thoughts and finally she answered,

            “W-well, I never planned for this song to be a duet, I mean, it could be a duet but the lyrics would make it a little, I mean, well…” Her stuttering voice was something expected, but I couldn’t quite understand what she was trying to say. In order words, it sounded like verbal diarrhea other than the fact that it was her sweet voice that spoke it.

            “Take a deep breath and explain again.” I suggested patiently, patting her left shoulder with my right hand soothingly. It was a tactic my mother used to use to calm me down when I was younger. She did as I told her to with her eyes closed and then began again,

            “The song that I’ve been working on for a while now is a love song.” Her voice was extremely quiet compared to her usual soft tone but I caught every word. She wrote a love song? For what reason? I couldn’t grasp my mind around the possibility that she already had her eyes set on another guy, not that I felt anything for her in particular.

            “May I see the lyrics?” I asked politely. She nodded and strolled to her backpack, then back with a sheet of paper in her hands. She held them in front of me and I took them, scanning every word carefully.

            “I’ve only been working on it for a few weeks so it’s not perfect.” Her head was down, her long hair shielding her embarrassed face from my view. It was evident that the lyrics meant something personal to her, and I couldn’t help but let it bother me. If this love song was so personal then it obviously meant that there was some guy who inspired it. Was that why she felt nervous about singing it with me? I held the papers in front of her and she took them back, still looking at the floor. She had such a weird habit of doing that whenever she was nervous. I took another step towards her and pushed her long brown hair that fell in front of her face behind her ear and smiled. It didn’t matter if there was another guy; I only want to be her friend anyway.

            “The lyrics are really amazing.” I complimented whole-heartedly, and then made my way towards the piano. Again, she followed me with a timid smile. I lifted up the cover that shielded the pearly white and pitch black keys from dust particles and pulled the seat out, waiting for Jieun to sit down.

            “Are you okay with singing this song with me?” I asked to reassure my thoughts. She only nodded back. It seemed as if the friendship we had before the year-end musical had completely gone with the wind and I had to start back at square one. Never had I ever dealt with someone with such a quiet personality, and it sparked some excitement in me, as if I were presented with a new and amusing challenge. I never back out of challenges. Her finger pressed down on one piano key and the song followed afterwards, accompanied by her voice. She sang the entire song once and it was probably the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in a while; every word contained her heart, and I could feel that.

            “I’m thinking we should split the song like this,” She explained, now feeling more confident as she grabbed the pen sitting on top of the piano and began underlining and boxing lines and verses. My eyes followed the tip of her pen as the ink glided across the paper.

            “You sing the underlined parts.” She ordered, but her voice could never sound aggressive or demanding; at least not to me. I nodded, singing each underlined verse in my head until I realized she was staring confusedly at me.

            “What?” I asked blankly. She shook her head and began playing the starting notes again.

            “Let’s practice.” Jieun announced, now fully concentrated on playing each key. Even though her eyes were focused on her fingers, it seemed like she was pondering something beyond just playing the piano. She had a way of making me always wonder what she was thinking.

Jieun’s POV

            His soothing voice filled the entire theatre and I listened intently as I continued playing the piano. Every shred of anger and annoyance that hung to my heart dispersed as he sung, making me feel the urge to pinch myself to ensure this wasn’t a dream. I realized that I didn’t have to be embarrassed about revealing this song, because no one but me would ever know where the lyrics really came from. It was just an unbelievable thought that the one I wrote the song for, the one I silently wished would hear these words from my heart was now singing it to me in my favourite room in the school—my second home that I would have to leave forever in less than a month.

            “Maybe you’re the one, maybe perhaps, perhaps you,” Wooyoung sang with confidence before I jumped in for my parts.

            “Maybe it is true, whenever really close to each other so I didn’t know, Baby I’m in love with you,” As I sang this line my mind was screaming for Wooyoung to know that these words were more than lyrics, but an indirect confession of which I am too scared to hear a response. When the song ended I sighed; receding my hands from the keyboard only to look up and see Wooyoung holding up a hand above my head for a high five. I smiled and lifted my left hand, swinging it forwards only to hit the empty air that his hand had once been. Wooyoung chuckled at my slow idiocy again but I knew he was only teasing, and this time, I didn’t really mind. I weakly and playfully punched him on the arm and then headed off the stage to grab my backpack. There were no windows in the theatre so I couldn’t tell if it was dark or not, but after taking a glance at the clock hung at the back I knew the sun was setting.

            “Great job today,” I commended him as if I were a school teacher praising a young student, avoiding eye contact as I adjusted the straps of my backpack to my shoulder. I looked down at the chair beside where my backpack had sat, glaring at the two heavy textbooks laying motionless there. Before I could reach out to grab them, two hands stole them from my sight and my eyes followed them to Wooyoung.

            “It’s dark out, I’ll walk you home.” He offered courteously, smiling at my confused and dull expression. I probably looked like a clueless idiot standing in front of him, so I smiled back and thanked him. He started walking slightly ahead of me, making me wonder whether he really knew where he was going after we left the school building. Wooyoung was right; the sky was nearing a dark navy blue and the lousy street lights always failed to function when I really needed them to. His presence made me feel much safer as I walked close behind him, remembering the several times I had to walk home alone in the dark, occasionally turning around to make sure no one followed me, being cautious with every step I took. As we left the school grounds, I was shocked that he knew which side to turn on. Has he been stalking me? When the school was no longer in sight, his pacing slowed slightly to match mine and we walked side by side together down the narrow sidewalk, elbows frequently brushing. I came to the conclusion that knowing the right way to turn was only a lucky correct assumption, because it really didn’t seem like he knew where I lived.

            “My house is at the end of this street.” I confirmed, seeing my dad’s van parked outside.

            “This is a pretty far walk from school.” He observed, staring straight ahead. My heart sank; was I being a burden for making him walk so far just to make sure I got home safe?

            “Mianheyo,” I apologized, my head tilted downwards as I walked beside him.

            “Kwaenchanah, as long as you’re safe.” His voice was comforting and I knew he was being honest. I looked back up and saw his smiling face, but my heart sank again when I realized we were already at the front of my house. The living room lights were on; I assumed my parents were watching Star King or something of the sort on TV right now.

            “Gomawoyo Wooyoung-sshi,” I thanked with a ninety degree bow, but why was he chuckling?

            “Let’s drop the formalities, okay?” His eyes were staring right into mine; I didn’t know what to say, nor did I really process what I just heard.

            “Ne?” I awkwardly murmured.

            “We’re friends right?” He asked, and I nodded. He already considers us friends? His next request caught me completely off guard.

            “Since I’m older, call me ‘Wooyoung oppa’.” His demanding smile made me realize that he wasn’t going to leave unless I did. Thankfully the night’s darkness hid my intense blushing well.

            “Gomawo, Wooyoung oppa.” I repeated in a more informal fashion. I could see his perfectly aligned white teeth as he smiled from ear to ear.

            “Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow!” He handed back my textbooks that he graciously held for me the whole walk here and with one final wave, left me standing shocked on my front lawn with an uncontrollable beating heart. Inwardly I smiled to myself, and then felt my phone vibrate.

Wooyoung Oppa:

Go inside before you catch a cold.

            I gawked at the ID that once read ‘unknown ID’ now read ‘Wooyoung Oppa’. His stealth in mysteriously getting to my cell phone without me knowing always astonished me, but I didn’t mind at all. Still smiling stupidly to myself, I made my way to my front door, reaching my index finger to the doorbell. Before I could even press it, the door flung open and my fuming father stood there with a suspicious and accusing expression.

            “I’m home…” I muttered nervously, hoping he would just let me silently slip aside and run to my room. Unfortunately for me, my father never let small things slide. After entering my house and locking the front door, I was practically cornered against the shoe rack.

            “Who was that young man with you just now?” His booming voice made me flinch.

            “He’s that boy from the musical isn’t he? That good for nothing player,” Even though my dad’s assumptions were half true, I felt enraged at the fact that he accused Wooyoung of being a player. I knew very well that Wooyoung has dated many girls throughout high school, but he never cheated on them.

            “He is, isn’t he?” My dad asked angrily again.

            “I’ll take silence as agreement.” He added as he scrutinized my nervous face. I felt sweat drops form on my forehead and impulsively I burst,

            “No he’s not!”

            “Then who was the boy at the musical?”

            “His name…” I stuttered before reminding myself that my dad’s vision, especially in the dark wasn’t very spectacular so there was so way he got a clear glance of Wooyoung’s face; even if I lied he couldn’t hold it against me, “is Jason.”

            “Then who was the young man who walked you home just now?!”

            “That was Jang Wooyoung, we had a project to work on afterschool and since it was dark he offered to walk me home.” My confidence grew as I dove deeper into the lies. They weren’t completely false, because Wooyoung in a sense is Jason, and we did have a project—a musical project. My dad stood before me huffing angrily, but was unable to come up with anything to say. I took this rare opportunity to shove past him and ran straight for my room, the safest place in this house from his trivial accusations.  

A/N: Ahaha, didn't edit for mistakes yet; will do later on when I have time. Here's a long update for you patient supporters! Thanks for reading this fanfic (:! I still have loads of homework and tests and this chapter was a product of my procrastination haha. Leave some feedback in the comments below ^^!