I was just thankful that the day after the ‘apocalypse of my sanity’ (I use to refer the thing that happened while Jongin was sick because remembering it makes me want to keel over), was a day for everything around and inside me to take a break. It has only been a week and I feel like my world revolved around Kim Jongin, and Kim Jongin only (which it probably did) and I can’t remember the last time that I was able to do anything without Jongin written all over it. I should be happy, okay I am, okay, no. I don’t know if Jongin-less life is better, or what the hell is wrong with me for doubting that thought because damn, of course Jongin-less is better, it’s supposed to be better. Maybe I just got used to the fact that my world now includes (and revolves, mind you) him in every damn thing. Yes. Every. Damn. Thing.

A break from him is probably one of the best things that’ll happen to the three weeks of this deal. Except, upon seeing his face right now, I feel a rush of relief flooding over me. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s alive and I’m safe from getting blamed for his death because I forced (well not really forced) him to play in the rain last Sunday. Or maybe because I know that he can finish the project now that he’s okay and graduating on top of the class is just a step away from me. Maybe. Those are just assumptions, really. Because the oh-so-not-familiar twisting in my stomach is back and the feeling of giddiness and slight discomfort is flowing through my body system again.

“Why didn’t you brought me lunch?” was the first thing that pulled me out of my reverie as I decide on what to feel as of the moment (as if that’s possible but I’m secretly hoping so) and what to do and what to think.

I look past him, averting my gaze to a graduation ball poster beside him and muttered an almost incoherent answer that is ‘I didn’t know you’re coming to school today so I didn’t brought lunch’ as I went past him to enter our room.

*

I never knew since when I started thinking about the things I will say, about my actions, or how I will respond but I think I’m starting now. It shows by how slow my answers are whenever Jongin asks me something. It’s like I am weighing every word, filtering nasty things that won’t be to his liking and it’s weird. So. Damn. Weird. Weird that I am thinking about Jongin in the first place or his feelings in the least.

*

“Did we have a quiz yesterday or something?” I heard the familiar honey but husky voice of Jongin asks through mouthful of ddeuboki in his mouth. Oh god, when did I ever start comparing his voice to a honey? That’s just too sweet, his voice is not.

Looking over my food (probably for something weird to appear on it) I mumbled a low “No” without looking up at him.

“Is there something wrong with your food?” Baekhyun asks probably noticing my lack of appetite.

I looked up at him and smile. “No, not really, why?”

“Well, you just seemed out of it today.” He shrugs.

“There’s something wrong with my food!” Jongin suddenly exclaimed and despite my vicious attempts to avoid his gaze, my eyes flew up and met his’.

The sudden rush of emotions from those pair of dark eyes that caught me off guard earned a sharp intake of breath from me and all the twisting and turning inside my stomach is there again, reminding me that it never really went away, just subsided whenever I’m not in a close distance from Jongin. I tried avoiding him as much as possible; in class trading seats with someone at the far back corner of the room, and right now, choosing to take the seat beside Baekhyun instead. I quickly turned my gaze to the food he’s eating, wishing and hoping he won’t notice my lack of eye contact towards him and the sudden blush from my neck, creeping its way to my face.

“I’ll bring you something tomorrow,” I mumbled softly but I can feel his eyes boring holes at the back of my head. With the best effort as I can muster, I let my gaze remain on the food he is eating. Anything. Anywhere.

Anywhere but his eyes.

*

I’ve been seeing a live performance of Kim Jongin dancing for a straight week now but I think this is the first time that I ever really saw what the title dancing machine means. He easily loses himself once the music starts playing and there’s nothing of that cocky Jongin, playful Jongin, awkward Jongin but only the godlike Jongin and the someone to be worshipped Jongin once he started dancing. The rhythm and the dance moves match perfectly to the various emotions on his face that is off passion, dedication, love for what he is doing and more passion, lots and lots of passion written all over his face.

I can easily lose myself too, when he starts to dance and I know that he’s taken me to the perfect world he created, even just as an audience.

*

I never really understand what jumping out of one’s skin means until now that I think I was finally able to experience it. It was a simple physical contact. Something that happens every day. Something as normal as the sun rising every morning.

 But when I felt someone’s hands at the exposed part of my neck that could only be Jongin’s because there’s no one except us on the street, I think I just jumped out of my skin.

The physical contact is hot and burning, it almost made me lose my balance. I staggered twice before steadying myself.

“Jesus! Why are you so jumpy today?” he complained after I literally jumped at his touch, almost knocking him off balance if not for his cat-like reflexes that saved him from a broken limb and broken nose.

I still refused to meet his eyes. I heard about this looking at a person’s forehead thing when you can’t look them in the eyes, so I did.

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