soo1— create a drama.

I got mad at Chanyeol for doing that. He was, after a long thought, being possessive and is being too attached to me. After all, we have two different lives to live. On the 7th night, 8 days ago, I called him out of my anger and irritation.  

  “Yah! Park Chanyeol why did you do that?”   I could practically hear his deep breaths and the surprise in his tone. “Sung Joo? Thank God you called. I’m so wo—”   “I said why did you do that? Why did you call my father? You know he’s always busy, right?”   He sighs. I can totally imagine him running his fingers on his hair, exasperatedly. “You weren’t answering my call so I thought—”   “Why? Don’t I have any right to enjoy my vacation and be free for a while?" I ask. My voice sounded too cold and too controlled. My sudden outburst and attitude made me shock, what more for him? The silence of the moment is eating us, making me deaf, until Park Chanyeol broke it for us.   “Sung Joo-ah, are you mad? I’m sorry I was just worried about you. I thought something bad happened so I called your dad. I’m sorry.”    This time, I didn’t utter a response. The truth is, I wasn’t mad at him for looking out for me, for it was one of our responsibilities towards one another. But I’m mad at him for being a wimp, for always letting me get my way, for always being the submissive one—for always being that nice.    But most of all, I was angry at myself. Chanyeol didn’t do anything. In fact I should be grateful for his kindness and love. Yet, here I am, making fuzz about it.   Perhaps the distance and the sudden freedom affect my feelings for him. I realize I could stand by myself. I could live alone—without him. I’ve devoted my four years for him and the abrupt singleness made me happy and I feel excited.   And I wanted him to understand this—but of course he won’t. ‘Cause he was hurt with the things I do and say to him. He was too taken aback.   “Sung Joo, please don’t be mad, I’m sorry.” He says. His voice sounded certain, pitiful and more than anything else, I can hear the pain in his voice.   I close my eyes and sigh heavily. “Don’t call me again.” And the line went dead. I lie down on my bed and mull over our situation, If I could live without Chanyeol, I’m pretty sure he can manage it as well.   The sudden idea is crazy, yes. But I wanted to live the world outside of us. I want to know what it feels like outside the realm of Park Chanyeol’s life. His attachment is so strong and I didn’t want to keep hurting him. If I wanted this for myself, the only resolution I find is a— break up.   After five minutes, my phone starts ringing again.    -   THEN.   “I'm going to pull the syringe, okay?” The nurse enunciates, sugar-coating every words. I look away and shut my eyes, nodding. They say getting your blood type test is like being bitten by an ant and they're wrong at all level. It so painful that my toes are painfully pushing inside my shoes, making me want to kick his shinbone. “There”, he says smiling as he put on some cotton and bandage.   I stand up, fighting the urge to pout. “Kamsamnida”, I say and bow at him.    Outside, I saw Park Chanyeol sitting on one of the chairs doing some ‘air drums’ (his past time) he seems so engage on what he’s doing that he didn’t realize that I was standing in front of him. I poke his cheek and it caught his attention. “Hey, you’re back.” He says happily. I frown even more. “What happened?”   I rolled my sleeves up to my elbow and showed Chanyeol my right arm and there was a big bruise on it. It was probably a malpractice of the nurse as he injected the syringe on my vein. His eyes turn big and wide. I hear him grit his teeth together. “Who did this to you?! Tell me! I’m going to bump his face.”     I laugh. “Seriously? You’re going to punch him in the face?” I chuckle again. “You cannot even kill a cockroach.” Chanyeol flustered. I sat beside him and he’s holding my wrist, examining my arm.   “Does it hurt?” I nodded. Chanyeol leans forward and lightly touches the black mark. I could feel him blowing some air on my skin.   “Yah, if you dare to press it, I’m going to—” I stop as I feel the sudden breeze of electric shock. My eyes grew wide and I was very speechless. The smooch sound of Chanyeol’s kiss echoes on my brain like a cannonball being fired. I flustered and look around. “Yah, what are you doing?”   “I’m kissing your boo boo.” He says proudly. I go beet red and cover my face with my palm. Aish. This boy never fails to make me blush. “Let’s go?” He asks as he stand up, pulling my hand. I nodded. As we marched towards the exit, I heed a yelp from Chanyeol.   “What?”   “I accidentally bit my lip.” He declares. Chanyeol bends over and I tiptoed. I look upward checking his face—assessing if there is blood on his lips. “Is it bleeding?”   I shake my head. “No.”   “Oh. Okay, thanks.”   For the rest of the day, Chanyeol repeated it for three times. By the fourth time he told me he bit his lips, I exactly knew what he wanted. I suppress my grin and try to act like I still don’t get it. We were walking past the park going to the nearest convenience store when I heard him yap in pain again.   “Yah, Noh Sung Joo. Are you sure my lips are not bleeding?”   I walk closer to him and I feign curiosity as my eyes squinted. “I can’t see.” Park Chanyeol inclines forward and puckers his lips. I smile. Then I grab this opportunity, submitting to his nonverbal req