It was silly.

Insane.

Crazy.

Stupid.

Dumb.

Sick.

All possible lack of intellectual acuity, I guess I am-- silly, insane, crazy, stupid, dumb, and sick.

Staring at the ceiling, feeling everything; breathing, heat, warmth, and I guess- no, I am certain. . .fear.

Here I am, lying on the same bed where we first felt each other’s skin and again. . .now feeling that same heat beside me, warming me. It was stupid, I know. Very stupid, despite of everything that happened, here I am—here we are both after the same tension of feelings we shared. I guess I won’t learn, and will never learn.

Used me or not, she could tear me apart, do it again too much, over and over again-- it just never bothers me now, it scares me that I don’t even care now, and it scares me more how much I needed her; as long as I see her, feel her, be with her, darn I missed her so much. Guess I am that desperate and hopeless. I can’t even help to cry how pitiful myself sound.

She had her arm spread on my waist, hugging me tight, afraid to let me go. It’s been almost an hour that I’ve been thinking of all the possibilities and I chose to stay awake, afraid that what happened before might happen again, and this time at least, I would have the chance to stop her, or even ask her why.

She stirred, and she hugged me even tighter, I felt her leg moved beneath the blanket to move over mine, clinging into me, and I just can’t help to feel this unexplainable feeling of emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy. I just wished we could stay like this forever, nothing matters, just the two of us.

Suddenly I felt her kiss my collar bone, her head moved, pressing her body against me, my arm under her head immediately went to her back, embracing her on my side.

“Luhan,”

I heard her spoke, I didn’t even know if she was asking or she just said it, I gave her a hum, telling her I’m awake and I heard her.

“Luhan,”

I frowned, but then again I gave her a hum, “Hmmm?”

“Luhan,”

And I felt her keeping her laugh, I smiled, sudden relief washed me.

“Luhan!”

I didn’t respond, and she sounded urgent, “What?” and I chuckled.

“Luhan, Luhan, Luhan, Luhan. . .” she continued calling my name laughing, and there is this stupid smile on my face, her hand that hugged me moved. Brushing to the middle of my stomach, she made circles, playing with my navel. Then suddenly I thought she will leave the bed but instead, placing her arm on my side to support her body, hovering me, half of her body above me and I could clearly see the smile on her face, and she gave me a sudden kiss-- seconds, and she pulled away, still that smile on her face, she looked happy.

I can only smile at her.

“Luhan.” It sounded like the last word in a sentence.

“What? You’ve been calling my name.”

She shook her head, “Nothing.” And she smiled, “I’m just happy,” and with that she slumped on my body, hugging me from top.

“Me too.”

“You too?” she asked, her voice vibrating my chest, “Don’t tell this to oppa.”

And it just ruined my moment. I thought of just letting whatever is happening; no questions, as I myself is afraid of the truth she might tell me, I just wanted to pretend, but she said it herself.

I don’t even know what to say, to ask her why, or to just keep my mouth shut and just seize the moment, but she did the answer for me.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

Suddenly everything felt strange anymore.  Stop it, it’s scaring me. . .

“I don’t know.” Because I don’t really know myself.

“Just ask why!” she insists, the sound of her demanding it should be making me laugh, but no. It’s scaring me.

And I know she won’t take it if I don’t ask why, “Okay. Why?”

Chuckles answered me, making my chest vibrate, and she suddenly had her chin facing me, “Because. . .” she was smiling, biting her lower lip to keep her laugh. “I said so.”

And she laughed, it doesn’t even sound a laugh but giggles, and she just hugged me again, from the feeling.

And again, I thought I should be relieved.

Since that day, she stayed with me in my apartment.

It’s almost like we’re living in; there are times that she wants to be the “lady” in the house and cook for me, she will try—I’ve seen her stay in my kitchen trying to cook, but the longer I wait, the longer I think I needed to rescue her from doing something; and that something is-- just staring at the things in the kitchen counter. I’m worried, but I am getting this damn anxious feeling whenever I see her confused. It’s like she’s sometimes lost, staring at nothing, and worse, you’d see a little frown forming on her forehead. It’s like I have to be always around her before she snaps—snaps to something I don’t even know, but I know I’m scared.

What made it worse is when I always ask her why, the first time I asked what she’s trying to cook, she seemed surprised that I’m around that she flinched when I touched her.

“Oh, I just. . .” she stuttered, as she keeps on glancing on the pan on the stove, “I think I forgot to do it.”

“It?” I asked.

“How do you cook. . .” she wasn’t looking at me but to the pan, even if I held her shoulders to face me, still her face was fixed to the pan, “How to open the stove- I mean, sorry!” and she had her face snapped in front me but won’t look me in the eyes and pulled from my grasp, “I have to do something else, please cook for yourself.” And she walked out the kitchen.

And as she stayed with me. . .every single day, I can’t help to notice all the changes happening, and no matter how I still wanted to believe she’s all acting just to get me to bed, I still can’t make myself blind.

True, I’m stupid but she’s getting what she wanted from me. There are nights we’d sleep together, make the most out of it until she gets tired. I think almost every night and, every night no matter how I wanted to be awake, afraid she’ll be gone when I wake up, I would still end up sleeping. It doesn’t even help that whenever I woke up, she’s not beside me—every morning, I panic and would rush out my room calling her name.

But every morning too, I’ll always see her lying down on the couch, a blanket covering some parts of her body, asleep, and a language book on her hand, lying flat down on her stomach. Every morning, it’s the same, and I wonder why the same book- Japanese-English phrase book.

And one day came, I had my answer.

There is a time where she told me to buy her a book but a Japanese edition one, sometimes making myself think she’s more comfortable reading in Japanese. It was an English book she found on my shelf, and she keeps telling me while flipping its pages, “The drawings are cute, like Luhan!” I am not even sure if she’s talking to “Luhan” or me, as Luhan. I told her to read the English one instead.

“Why not read that one instead?” I asked as she keeps on flipping the pages, just checking the illustrations. I sat on the sofa, just watching her.

“I want a Japanese one. . .” she replied prolonging the last word. She lay on the carpet, holding the book like she always does; in front her as if it would directly fall in her face.

“The illustrations are just the same, it’s just the language used.” I insisted, and I saw her pause to one page, and I thought she’s reading it. But after not a few minutes, she stood up, and sat beside me, giving the book to me.

“What?” I was laughing unconsciously; she put my arm behind her head and leaned on my shoulder.

“Read me.” She said it too low, almost like a whisper.

I just laugh, finding it her excuse just for me to read it for her that she even snuggled at me-- like a child, its mother reading her a story.

“Okay okay, so. . . The Little Prince, this is a children’s book you know.” I read to her and told her.

“Wo bu guan. Read.” (I don’t care.) She almost murmured. I frowned, she suddenly talked Chinese.

I exhaled, and started to read. . . and when I reached almost five pages of the book, I heard her sobbing.

“Yaaa, there’s nothing to cry in the story yet, are you crying?” and she just shook her head and told me to continue, but the more I read, the more I hear her sobs turning into cry.

“Tell me what’s wrong huh?” I asked without moving, closing the book with a finger in between to keep the page, “Tell me hmm?”

Silence answered me, until she said, and again, giving me that warning to come back to my senses and I am not having a good dream, “I can’t read it,” she sobbed, “I think I forgot.” And with that, I ignored.

I ignored all the damn feelings rushing into me and just thought about her being there in my arms, I continued to read, and with that I never asked why again.

There are times, where she’d ask me to put her clothes on after bath and ask me which one on a particular object when there’s just one object she’s making me choose.

Sometimes I’ll just think she wants me to take care of her, and I see myself do it willingly, but there are just something’s that are strange, very strange and I really can’t help to get scared.

As days passed she stayed with me—almost a week; it can’t be denied how everything is odd, and how I still want to believe she’s acting.

I once wondered if Wu Yifan ever looked for her, but no Wu Yifan came smashing my door, demanding for his sister for the last week. However, I think she meets him when I am not around, when I am in my classes. Once I thought of not attending my classes anymore, still thinking she might leave when I get back but she will always insist me to go attend my classes—that’s when I think she goes back to her oppa. Once I didn’t attend my classes and stayed with her, it was the first day we had, and the whole day she threw tantrums on me, no matter how pissed she was, I find her cute-- but I promised the next day, I’ll attend my class. No matter how bothered I am that she stayed with me like everything is normal, I never asked her anything about it. I’d rather just keep these moments with her than have to deal with all the ing pain of truth.

*8*8*

That one night we slept together, I woke up in the middle of the night—middle of the night, and she must still be beside me, but no.

Suddenly realizing I woke up, I cursed myself. I immediately snapped to my side as panic rushed through my veins, and I heard chuckles.

“You looked funny!” I looked to the direction of the sound, and I breathed out.

She was there, she stayed. I wanted to cry from relief, “You’re here.” And I noticed how she had her clothes back, and sitting on the chair placed beside the bed, and the sudden thought that she watched me sleep hit me.

She just smiled, “I’m leaving, I just waited for you to wake up. You seem very tired.” And with the last word, the corner of her lips curled, probably remembering. . .

I’m leaving, why. . .

Why didn’t you just left.

Why did you even wait for me to wake up.

Why do you even have to tell me.

Why do you even smile, smile like everything seems to be perfect.

A lot of whys I wanted out my mouth, but I just can’t make my tongue talk. I told myself not to ask why again.

“Oppa shouldn’t know,” She answered my unspoken question. “Okay? Promise me.” And she spoke again, “No one should know.”

She stood up, “I’ll come back.” And her mood suddenly rose up, looking so excited. “I’ll be back, I promise!” she even started bouncing, “We’ll play again, Promise?” the hope in her eyes is glistening, I thought she’s about to cry.

“Play?” asking confused, it gave me double meaning, play. . .act, and pretend.

She seemed hesitant, biting her lower lips, “Skinny-dip. . .” I stared confused, swim? “Skinny-dipping with each other.”

I laughed, a genuine laugh came out, and she laughed too, she means .

She got what she wanted from you, you got what you wanted from her, and the truce is over. It suddenly rang in me. The , she wanted that from you, I kept my smile on her. “Everything you want, as long you’re with me.” And I meant it for her to sound damn sweet.

And she had that smile, that always sweet smile, and with that she left, “We’ll see again, okay?” she didn’t even wait for my reply, she rushed out.

Yes, I’ll wait for you. . .

*8*8*

Days came, I waited. . .and waited.

I kept my days normal like it used to, but half of me waited. I almost ditched my classes’ everyday if not with Yixing dragging me out literally out of my pad, clueless why I wanted to stay even if I’m not sick. I was thinking she might come back, and I am not there, and she would leave.

It was almost a week, and I told myself to prepare that she might not come back, no news or something about her, nothing, until I got a message from Myungsoo, with a sudden thought how he got my number.

From: +825466996755

GO TO THE BACK GATE, NOW. – L

I frowned even seeing his code name. As soon I read it, I went at the back gate of school; my thoughts are running that he might have something tell me about Jinhan.

But as I reached the deserted area, there was no Myungsoo to be seen, but a back of someone else, and it took me a few minutes to figure out it was Jinhan.

“Jinhan. . .” I called, whispering as if she’d disappear when I called her out loud.

She didn’t face me, still on her back, I can see her shoulders shaking enough to tell her she’s crying and I walked faster towards her, turning her shoulders to me.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, and I pulled my arm back immediately, scared on the hatred tone she used at me.

“Why?” it was too late when I noticed my eyes misting; and tears were running out when I saw her face so red from crying hard, tears keep pouring out.

“Why. . .” she sobbed and cried, “Why Luhan, what did you do?” she was choking from too much crying, she can’t barely speak.

I stayed quiet, absorbing her, I am actually lost. I don’t know where to focus; on her tears that is drowning, on how I missed her that I just wanted to hug her, on what she’s asking me, I don’t even know what to answer.

“I’m asking you why! What did you do!” she was screaming, and I panicked.

“I don’t understand you,” was all I could say.

“What did you do to me!” and thinking what she’s asking me, there’s only one thing I could think of.

“I just loved you, and I love you.”

And with those, she cried even harder, “I told you,” she choked from her tears, “I told you not to!”

“But it was too late! I just can’t tell my-“

“No!” she shrilled, and the sudden desperation changed her cries, “Let’s forget about everything, please Luhan. Let’s not meet again, never. Please, don’t wait for me, and I won’t too, please, promise me. At least this time Luhan, promise me.” she slumped down on the ground kneeling in front me, begging.

It was such awful scene for me to see, I had to pull her up, despite of pushing me away, I hugged her, and she cried more. “Please Luhan, please. Don’t look for me anymore, don’t wait for me, and don’t love me, look for anyone else.”

“I can’t do that.” It came out like a whisper.

Pulling away from me, that’s when I realized, for the first time, she looked me into my eyes, digging in my soul, she said, “I’m sick.”

“I know.” I know, and I don’t give a fcuking damn!

“I am not just sick!”

I know, that’s why tell me please. I want to know, I wanted to tell her, beg her.

“So please Luhan forget about me, about everything, I’m sorry, I am really sorry.” There came her tears again, making her face soaked and red. Walking backwards, slowly. . .

“Jinhan, don’t.” I said, stepping closer as she walk back, “Don’t do this to me.”

Shaking her head, she slowly turned a ran away, and I didn’t realize Myungsoo was there outside, waiting with his car. After opening the door for Jinhan, he looked at me. . .

That look not what I expected-- not of anger, not of triumph, but that look he gave me. . .despair.