part two
Under the Autumn Tree
I shake my head furiously to push the unwanted memory out of my mind. The last thing I need right now is to blush at the memory of his lips against mine. I remember that day under the autumn tree so vividly that it frustrates me.
That was the last time I saw or spoke to him.
After realising what had happened, that we kissed, I ran back to my house and locked myself in my room. I guess it was because of the confusion and fear of what was becoming of our complicated relationship. I remember not being able to sleep that night, wondering why he had kissed me and why I kissed back. Realising the answer by the morning, I’ve decided to confront him about it. I’ve acknowledged the possibility that I may feel something more than friendship towards him, and to apologise for running away, only to find out that he and his family left and migrated to England that very morning. Imagine how crushed I was! I was inconsolable. But no one has ever found out what truly happened. They just thought I was extremely sad about the departure of a close friend, which is half-true.
“Earth to Luhan!”
I snap back to my senses at the sound of Jongin’s loud voice. We’re in his car on the way home from soccer. “What? Were you saying something?”
“No. But if you were paying enough attention, you would have known whether I’ve said something or not.” He said in a matter of fact. “You hardly did anything in the soccer game, and you’ve been spacing out a little too much today!”
I look down apologetically, “I’m sorry. There’s just too much in my mind.”
“Figured that out, and you better spill it because it’s driving me insane,” he demands firmly and I realise he’s not taking no as an answer.
“Well, remember Sehun?” I asked. Arguing with Jongin is pointless since he is very persistent when he wants to find out something, so I decided to tell him. Well, some of it anyway.
“Sehun? As in the cranky kid Sehun? The one who used to live next door to you?”
“Yes, that one.”
“What about him?”
I take a deep breath, “He’s back. And I just don’t know how to act around him, since we didn’t exactly stay in contact for five years.” I tell him in a barely audible voice. “And that’s a long time you know,” I added.
He nods understandingly, “True. If you leave and not contact me for five years, then suddenly come back, I’d probably shoot you first before you even get to step inside your house.”
Of course, I leave out the part about sharing a passionate kiss with him the day before he left. Jongin doesn’t need to know that.
When I got home, I find my parents and younger brother ready to visit the Oh residence.
“How was soccer?” Mum smiles at me, “quickly get changed, and we’ll go visit next door.” she instructs.
With the reminder of having to visit next door, I feel my stomach knotting uncomfortably and the colour of my face draining, leaving me looking ghostly pale. The idea of meeting Sehun right now doesn’t seem very appealing and I’ll do just about anything to avoid it.
“Are you okay?” dad asks worriedly.
“Can I just stay at home tonight? I feel tired from soccer, and I hurt my leg really bad.” I tell him. Well, it isn’t completely a lie. Although the part where I hurt my leg is slightly exaggerated, I do feel tired!
“Want me to stay with you?” mum offers and I quickly shake my head in response.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just be in my room.”
With that, I scurried up the stairs and disappeared behind my bedroom door, leaving them no space for questions or objections.
I peered down at my sketch, analysing whether the branches of the tree were at the right angles. Whenever I want to clear my mind out, I’d sit out here under the big red maple tree behind our house. Placing my sketch book on my lap, I glance upwards to admire the falling red leaves. The sign of autumn. I stretch my arm out to catch one on the top of my palm.
“I heard you’ve hurt your leg?”
I sit up straight at the sound of the voice behind the tree.
Sehun. I instantly recognise the low and raspy voice that I thought I’ve long forgotten. I gulp as numerous scenarios races in my head. Should do a runner? Or should I pretend he’s not here? Or maybe I should just act calm and be the ‘I-don’t-care-about-anything’ guy.
I can feel him leaning coolly against the tree, gazing down at me with probing eyes.
I take a deep breath and look down at the sketch on my lap without glancing at him once. I’m scared to see him; scared that once I meet him eye to eye, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back from caring.
“And I believe that is none of your business.” My voice didn’t come out as coldly as would have wanted it to be.
“Was just concerned,” I imagine him shrugging as he speaks, “We used to be childhood buddies afterall.”
Childhood buddies? Does the description of childhood buddies include kissing under the tree and fleeing the next day? ‘Cause he definitely acted the part perfectly.
I give out a bitter laugh, “Exactly,” I say, “used to be. Not anymore.” I hear the tremble in my voice and at this moment I want to curse myself for showing even the slightest emotion.
He didn’t reply and there’s a moment of silence between us. I grip my sketchbook pretending to be focused on the piece of paper, although truthfully, my brain can’t seem to process anything at this moment.
“Amazing that this tree is still here,” he finally speaks with fascination as if reminiscing a certain memory. A memory I’d rather not remember right now.
“Yeah well, there have been countless times that I got tempted to cut it off.”
“Then why didn’t you?” he challenged assertively.
“My dad wouldn’t buy me chainsaw,” I retorted nonchalantly, “although an axe would work fine too, he refused to buy me that either. And using kitchen knife would just be too much effort, and truthfully, the tree doesn’t deserve that much attention from me.” I shrugged. I’m blabbering, I know and I hear him snickering.
“You still amuse, China.”
“Can’t say the same to you,” I tell him, “You don’t amuse me at all.”
There was a moment of hesitation on his side before finally saying, “What? Because I kissed you?”
With that, I froze. He stirs a topic I was trying not to touch. I guess sooner or later it would have come up one way or another. It’s inevitable.
“That was five years ago, Sehun,” I said in a flat tone, lips quivering as I mention his name, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Well, not to me at least.”
“Oh really?” he laughs dryly, “then why can’t you look at me?”
I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that. But who am I kidding? I can’t exactly just get through this encounter and get back to my house without seeing him like I’ve planned to.
With a deep and frustrated sigh, I brace myself. Setting the sketchbook aside over the ground of red dried leaves, I slowly got up on my feet. I realise he isn’t leaning against the tree anymore, but standing in front of me with a considerate distance between us. I turned my head up reluctantly to glance at him. The same dark brown orbs stare deeply into my lighter ones. That’s when I noticed how different he looks but still awfully similar.
He has the same hooded, sultry, dark brown eyes that curve down into two crescent moons whenever he smiles, and long lashes that cast lines of shadows over his cheekbones. Compared to his short black hair before, I think the slightly longer messy brown hair he has now suits him more. His jaws are more defined, and I can see he has become leaner and muscular, although not too excessively, thankfully. He’s wearing skinny jet black jeans that hung low on his waist, partnered with a plain white slim V-neck T-shirt, and a pair of black supras.
I can’t deny; he definitely looks good. I’m quite jealous that the simple attire is enough to make him look eye-catching.
I look down to my own body to remind myself of what I’m wearing. It makes me feel quite self-conscious now, realising how much of a laughing-stock I must look next to him. I’m wearing an oversize grey hoodie with a big hole on the left armpit area that lets the breeze blow on my underarm whenever I raise my hand, paired with knee length navy blue casual shorts, and not to mention, my younger brother’s ragged brown flip flops. This is the time where I hope the ground will magically open and swallow me so I don’t have to face the humiliation. Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to dress up when I have intended to spend a lazy afternoon in the first place.
I hear a snort, and I knew then I probably should have done a runner when I had the chance.
“Nice outfit, China,” I can hear him stifling his laugh, “Didn’t know you were such a fashion icon.” Oh how I’d love to punch that mocking smile off his face.
“Well, even in my worse clothing, you still don’t look half as good as me,” I retorted, looking at him through narrowed eyes in scorn. He just responded with an amused laugh.
“Well, now that I’ve proven my point,” I tell him carefully, going back to the original topic, “You. Get. Lost.”
“What point have you proven exactly?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
Of course, the Sehun I knew never backs down. I guess that remains unchanged. “That whatever happened between you and me five years ago doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Is that why you were checking me out just now?” he smirks, “you seemed like you were undressing me in your mind.”
“Trust me, I’ve seen better,” I replied.
His eyebrow rose higher, “Have you now? Is that why our kiss doesn’t matter anymore?” Is that jealousy I hear?
“No, Sehun,” I tell him through exhausted voice, “It’s been five years! Do you expect me to jump around in happiness because you’re back after you kissed me and not contact me for five years? I don’t think so!” I argued in frustration. I guess my ‘I-don’t-care-about-anything’ façade is abandoned now.
“I think you forgot the part where you ran away and left me standing here on my own,” he says bitterly, his raspy voice feels like acid in my ear.
And you don’t know about the part where I searched for you helplessly, crying as I ran frantically to catch the next bus to the airport. But of course, I didn’t say it out loud. There’s no point.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now. That was 5 years ago.”
“Right,” he eyes my quizzically. Slowly, he walks towards me with heavy and determined steps, his cryptic eyes never leaving mine. I gulped, and slowly moved backwards as he neared me until my back hits the tree. He stretched both of his arms and leaned them against the tree, one at each side of my head, trapping me between him. He moved his face closer to mine until our noses are nearly touching. I can feel his warmth and smell the manly scent of his aftershave.
His dark brown eyes searched through mine. “Then look at me straight in the eyes, and tell me that it meant nothing to you.” He demanded in his intimidatingly low voice. His hooded eyes exposed nothing of his emotions.
My breath caught in my throat, making me feel like I’m about to choke. Of course it meant something! I wouldn’t be so bitter about it if it didn’t! But I’m not going to admit that. My pride won’t let me give him that satisfaction.
“I-I…” I try to keep my eyes on him, but it’s my voice that betrays me. Before I can say anything else, he smirks, “Your ears are getting red, China.”
I close my eyes to prevent myself from lashing out on him. ing ears! This isn’t the time for you to expose me! I open my eyes and with both hands, I pushed him away slightly, just enough for me to get out of his grasp. “My ears can get red whenever they want!” I roared in aggravation. I’m not making sense but who cares?! “It’s been five years, you understand?! People change Sehun.” And with that, he knew that I wasn’t only referring to the changing colour of my ears.
His expression turns grim and I suddenly want to take back what I said. “Did you?” he asks dryly in a monotone voice.
“Well,” I say, uneasily, “I certainly am not the airhead you use to claim I was.”
He smiles bitterly, “I don’t know about that. The fact that you still don’t know my intention then makes you pretty stupid.”
“I do know!” I confessed with exasperation. I know that when he kissed me five years ago, he had meant it; that the kiss was neither just friendly nor a spur of a moment thing. It was intentional, and it had meaning: to express something he couldn’t say through words. I guess I was just scared to admit it all these time, which is why I kept denying it. But I guess not anymore. “I just want to hear it from you.” I finally said, with soft voice.
“What? So you can openly reject me?” His voice sounding sardonic, “laugh at dear little Sehun being gay? I don’t think so China.”
“No…” I protested, barely audible. With a new found boldness, I close the gap between us, cupped his face with both my hands and pulled him towards me till my lips touch his.
I can feel him stiffen against me, probably because of the shock from my sudden action. Slowly, I move my lips against his until he relax and responded. It was a short and slow kiss, but full of emotions that was caged in for five long years. I draw my head back to look at him, not bothering to mask any emotion my eyes may be giving away. “So I can do that.”
He smiles widely, his eyes softening as he wraps his arm around me tightly. Lowering his head, he captures my lips once more, kissing me passionately as if he wants to memorise the structure of my lips. I circle my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling with his hair as I pull him towards me to deepen our kiss.
After we drew apart, with arms still around each other, he stares at me through observing eyes. I can’t even start to explain how glad I am to kiss him. Somehow, all those bitter hatred for five years vanished within a second.
Smiling cryptically, he leans towards me and put his lips near my ear to whisper something. With a hushed y husky voice, he whispers, “I can see your armpits.”
My eyes widen in disbelief, remembering my holed hoodie. Way to ruin the moment, Sehun. I feel him shake against me in laughter. I lowered my left arm to hide my embarrassing armpits, and whacked him across the shoulder with my right one.
“Idiot,” I hissed.
“You love me though.”
“No I don’t,” I stuck my tongue out at him childishly. He obviously knows I’m joking.
“Then why did you kiss me?” he smirked teasingly.
My smile widens, as I remember exactly what he told me five years ago.
“Because you needed it.”
__________________________________________________________
THE END.
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