Chapter 11:

It was amazing how two people who’d been fighting for some time, ignoring each other and awkwardly catching glances that lasted too uncomfortably drawn-out, could lapse into something slightly more contented and routine in a matter of seconds.

Baekhyun’s soot layered face and glistening, sweat covered body were both adequate enough to cause the frizzy haired colossal human, Chanyeol, to ungracefully leap over the counter and bound towards the petite boy.

Maggie Ann and Jongin instinctively shifted to the side to avoid the possessed barista who was promptly by Baekhyun’s side.

Chanyeol instantaneously wiped at his best friend’s cheeks and checked his body for any possible injuries that could perhaps hinder the boy and dare to exist.

A few words were whispered and a few responses were answered but it was barely audible and Jongin and I kept stealing glances at each other and I shrugged at Maggie Ann, who also stood completely confused by the situation.

“Wh-What happened?” Chanyeol finally uttered, loud enough for the rest of us to hear.

Guiltily, I inclined forward a little more in order to properly hear. I tried to remind myself that I wasn’t eavesdropping because the two were right in front of us. I was also immensely curious to learn the reason for Baekhyun’s less than pleasant appearance.

“Ch-Chan…I’m fine…” Baekhyun’s breath was getting less raspy; however, considering it normally sounded slightly scratchy, it wasn’t really smooth at the moment.

“What happened? Is someone chasing you? Why are you dirty? You’re not hurt?” Chanyeol popped questions out like this was an interrogation yet he was asking things too fast to be answered.

He was becoming like a machine. Repeating every possible wonder that passed through his mind that had to do with Baekhyun and he was having one of his once in a while freak out moments. And only Baekhyun could calm him down.

“Chan…” Baekhyun repeated slowly, his tiny fingers wrapping around Chanyeol’s larger wrist, an action that hadn’t been done in a week and was in much need because of lost time.

Chanyeol’s breathing decelerated and slackened, returning to something that slightly resembled more of a human’s pace.

Baekhyun then proceeded to hold up his other hand, which had been hiding behind his thigh, and he possessed in his petite fingers extremely worn out bag of donuts that appeared to have the wrinkles of an antique, aged man.

“But you’re-“

“I got these for you,” Baekhyun interrupted. “When I was walking my neighbor’s dog but then he started running and I lost control and I’ve been sprinting and jumping through gardens. I tripped twice. The first time no one saw but the second time it was really embarrassing but then I passed here and I’ve got no idea where the damn dog is but I had to see you because I missed you and I wanted to say hi and hear your dopey voice and-“

Nothing in particular happened to cause Baekhyun’s croaky and hoarse voice to break but he paused dramatically, watching Chanyeol, eyes slightly watered, possibly from the run and possibly from Chanyeol’s chilling presence, which should’ve been comforting.

Before the aggressive tears nearly plunged from Baekhyun’s dangerously wet eyes, Chanyeol’s face broke out into a grin.

“I love food.”

“I’m not sitting with them,” Jongin argued with me.

“Well then you’re sitting alone,” I countered.

“Who said I wanted to sit with you?” He reasoned.

“Dammit, stop being a loner,” I grumbled.

We stood idly in the overly crowed lunchroom, occupied with judging and bustling kids, teens that had other things to do except eating. Jongin had his tray of school puke while I possessed my lunch box, fully aware that Jongin was going to steal some of it anyway, so I always packed an extra sandwich.

Jongin was referring to the new, lovey dovey (finally) couple, Chanyeol and Baekhyun. And also Tao and Kris residing close to them.

“I bring you food,” I reminded him, pulling his reluctant body towards my usual table.

We arrived just as Chanyeol was about finished cackling like a hyena over something Baekhyun said (which probably wasn’t close to how funny he made it out to be).

“Oh look who’s sitting with us!” Chanyeol greeted, reminding me of how comfortable he felt around Jongin sometimes.

I was really the only one in the school who was relatively close to the mysterious and allusive boy. I tended to forget that I was the only person who was unafraid.

Jongin gave him a slight glare and I reminded myself to reprimand him for that later.

“Be nice,” I hissed at him.

He stuck out a tongue of chewed food at me.

I started to wonder if this god of iness the school drooled over and ran away from at the same time was a two year old. He began to look less like a runaway model and more like a child stuck in a teen’s body.

And then I remembered him acting so serious. When he saved the little girl from the fire. When he rescued me from getting beat up. When he illuminated his most scarring memory. The anger in me subsided and my face fell.

“Here!” I said a little too loudly.

I shoved the other half of my sandwich into his rather big hands and snapped my head around so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“I talked to my parents last night,” I said when Jongin and I were walking away from the school, leaving Baekhyun and Chanyeol who were lovingly sitting under their special tree again.

“Okay,” Jongin answered. “And?”

I stopped myself from kicking the ground in triumph due to the fact that I earned a relatively eager response from him.

“Oh nothing really,” I quickly responded when he grew impatient, something I sensed from being with him for a long time now.

We were both wearing our baseball caps that had been given to us from the principal. We’d figured he didn’t want them back because he hadn’t asked yet.

“Just talked…and stuff…” I paused, furrowing my eyebrows as I recalled the conversation from the night before.

Jongin (subtly) noticed and stopped in his tracks and I was so deep in thought that I didn’t realize how close he was to me, our shoulders pressed together.

“What?” he wondered, with a tone that sounded almost apprehensive.

“Oh, we were just discussing why they left,” I remarked. “It was around a year and a half ago. My parents were checking out the schools that I could go to in the future when they suddenly got the call from work that they were desperately needed in America.”

Jongin bit his lip and in my mind I begged him to stop doing it because he honestly did not probably understand that he was seducing anyone within a ten mile radius with the action.

I didn’t know where we were going and I just realized it. Being with him now felt close to a routine and I comprehended that we subconsciously started walking together.

“Um, are you coming over to my house?” I questioned when we continued our pace again.

“Do you have food?”

“Obviously…”

“Looks like I am.”

It seemed that we, more often than not, fell into this habit in which we acted as if we hated each other but covertly slipped somewhere together, taking the role of the other’s therapy whilst eating delicacies most likely created by yours truly.

The story of Jongin and Kyungsoo.

Jongin was chewing on a bite of Caprese when his phone buzzed. I knew him well enough to be aware of the fact that he hated ringtones.

“Hello?” He drawled into the phone in a very uninterested manner.

His hair was no longer styled like it usually was at the beginning when I met him. Now it always hung limp over his ears. The black color didn’t quite compliment the blazer as well as it did his bright red hoodie.

Jongin’s ears were greeted with loud, boisterous yelling, so incoherent that I couldn’t even understand the context of what was being said. The only thing that I could conceivably conclude was that whoever was speaking on the other end, sounding like a man, was less than pleased about something.

He paused for a few seconds, inhaling a few times before deciding to respond. I tried to read his expression but, as always, it was unreadable.

“Appa, calm down,” he slowly responded. “What’s wrong?”

There was more roaring through the speaker and I caught a wincing reaction from Jongin that caused me to noticeably twitch and nudge Jongin’s foot from under the table.

He hardly spared a glance and kept his gaze considerably concentrated on the central area of his partially empty plate.

“I don’t really think they meant to do that…” Jongin trailed off, listening to something else that was lowly being said. “Just go to bed,” he concluded finally.

He appeared to wait for another response but showed no reaction, receiving no answer so the lucid boy hung up and finally looked at me with his dark, abysmal remnant eyes, swallowing me whole.

I’d never felt so consumed before, especially looking into the depth of his stare. He displayed such a value of complexity that I never would’ve dreamed of matching. It felt as if I was gazing into the eyes of a poor and wise, ancient man trapped inside of an insolent, teenaged body.

“Jong…” I let my words get gulped down and straggled into my throat while feeling his scrutiny. “What’s up?”

“I think I should probably go,” he announced, standing up, allowing the chair to disturbingly scratch against the floor in an unwelcoming manner.

“I’ll go with you,” I instantly answered, probably speaking a little too quickly, a little too instinctively.

A brief glimpse of a trait of amusement momentarily crossed his face but faded too quickly for me to interpret and Jongin immediately rejected.

“No,” he answered. “You definitely should stay here.”

“You were talking to your dad, right?” I wondered, also standing and appearing next to him faster than I thought was possible.

“Yes,” Jongin remarked. “Yes I was.”

“What happened?” I repeated, this time welcoming his deep, intimidating gaze.

I expected Jongin to avoid the question, come up with something to allude me, divert my attention to something unimportant.

“He’s drunk.”

My face twitched and I was unsure of how to respond. I wasn’t anticipating his quite brutally truthful and blunt answer and had to avoid my watery eyes.

“Well, does he…” I couldn’t finish my sentence because I didn’t know what to say.

“It doesn’t happen often,” Jongin continued. “Only every once in a while, at times when he misses my mom.”

“I’ll come with you,” I reiterated.

Jongin shook his head, not vigorously but with a gentle, sharp tone that clearly spoke no. I wasn’t about to be persuaded and for some reason, I was deeply convinced that I had to go with him and there was no way I was about to have him go alone.

“I don’t think so, shorty,” Jongin replied. “Just stay here and make me a ing awesome lunch for tomorrow.”

Jongin proceeded to grab his bag but I caught hold of the blazer he was wearing, stopping him from moving. He twisted and watched me with contemplating eyes.

Ever since that one day when we’d washed windows, Jongin had refrained from being physically aggressive with me and today was no exception. He lightly pried my fingers from the fabric and the hold on my wrist lingered a little longer than it should have.

“Why do you even think it could possibly be a good idea?” Jongin quietly asked, a contrast to my expectation of a snarl.

“Don’t ask me why,” I remarked. “I don’t really know. I guess I-“ His stare, again, caught me off guard, causing me to nearly swallow my tongue. “Care about you,” I finished, still aware that his hand was still wrapped around my wrist.

“Do you?” Jongin questioned but it was less of a inquiry and more of a reflection on the statement.

My hard stare was the only response he received and as I looked into his eyes again, I felt like the world was in slow motion and I could only focus on him and his bottomless orbs.

It suddenly shocked me into a realization. I had new lyrics for the song Baekhyun and I would sing for the singing competition. Everything except for you will get in slow motion.

Jongin’s fingers moved from being enclosed around my wrist down to my fingertips and I realized he was holding my hand now and he gave a rather confident, familiar nod towards the door to motion that we were going in that direction.

I made sure that my grip on his hand was just as tight as his on mine.

.

.

.

A/N: I apologize for the lateness that this chapter encases and the shortness. Why OTL School and everything else. Did a walk for down syndrome today (for some reason I'm into helping causes) and then I was sick and es at school. Ugh. Oh well. So, yeah I can't believe I started to make a legit plot for this. I always vow to make fluffy, happy and easy stories but there always manages to have a plot emerge. OTL damn. Kay anyway, I realize that I've been a ing lame author and I need to give pics at the end full of Kaisoo worthiness.