You struggle to keep the strap of your gym bag secured on your shoulder as you trudge through the field, the cold breeze slightly stinging your face. You weren’t supposed to practice on a Sunday but your Unnie cancelled yesterday’s drill (she is still suffering from a hangover) and she just went out to the field to tell you personally that you’ll be the starting striker at next weekend’s friendship match with the neighboring college, which is a HUGE deal in your opinion. Your disappointment of not even saying goodbye to the two masked guys was overshadowed with your conviction to practice almost the entire week. “Just don’t overdo it,” your Unnie argued, “the rest of the team won’t be with you since it isn’t a tournament game and it’s going to be freaking cold in the field.”

And yet here you are, hoping to squeeze in just an hour or two’s worth of drills, probably work on making your left foot as equally skilled as your right. You stop short as you spy a slightly hunched figure leaning against one of the goalposts, hands buried in his pockets. The mask and the light hair was a dead giveaway that this is the same guy from yesterday. You approach him warily, trying to think of reasons as to why he’s here again.

“Hi,” he greeted, straightening from his previously comfortable position. You continue to stare at him, wondering why he isn’t saying anything else. Then you realize that he was waiting a response from you.

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked. Get a grip, you scold yourself. Taking a deep breath for additional confidence, you asked in a clearer tone: “What do you want?” Oh crap, way to make him feel unwelcome.

“Ah yeah, I just want to apologize for suddenly disappearing yesterday,” he seems to be unfazed by what you just said. “We had to uh, leave. Anyway,” he said brightly, as he comes closer to where you are standing near the bleachers. “I still insist on replacing your camera…”

“No, that’s okay!” you exclaimed, dropping your bag on the bench before facing him. You waved both hands repeatedly in a dismissive gesture so that he won’t be burdened anymore. “I said yesterday that I’ve been meaning to buy a new one myself so I---”

You’re caught off guard as he suddenly grabbed both of your hands, inspecting both palms as he bent his head. “Was this from the other day?” You started to tug your hands from his warm ones, but he continued to envelop your hands in his.

“This is nothing,” you stammered, the heat from his hands touching yours is starting to bring color to your cheeks. “It looks worse than how it feels. Besides, I won’t need much of my hands during practice…”

“Nonsense, you need your hands just as much as you need your feet in any soccer drill,” he looks around the field, finally letting go of your hands. “Are you early for practice? Where are your teammates?”

“Oh, I’m just practicing alone.”

 

 ---

 

Alone. Things are definitely looking up for me, Luhan concluded. He had been hanging around the field for hours on the off chance that she will appear. God, I feel like a stalker. Now this is how it feels to be on the other side, he cringed inwardly.  He still doesn’t know why he pushed through with the warped idea he came up with last night (and the successive “are you okay?” “when will you be back? “we miss you” “hyung, come home” texts from the members aren’t helping either). But next thing he knew he is braving the cold in the open soccer field, wearing his favorite pair of shoes, trying his luck.    

“Do you want to play? You’re wearing the shoes for it.” A soft voice cut through his thoughts. Ah, that’s why, Luhan reminded himself.

“Do you mind if I do?” Time to press himself into the situation. “I mean with you, I do play…a bit…back at home.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. Ugh, he sounded like a schoolboy, not a top idol with countless girls screaming his name. This is going to be difficult if he couldn’t get his act together.

“Sure, that’s okay!” She props one foot on the bench to adjust her sock closer to her knee. Luhan can’t help staring at her legs – and how shapely they were – then reminding himself how painful her kick would be if she caught him staring.

“Are you sure you want to? The air is a bit chilly and your cold might get worse,” she said, eyeing Luhan’s mask.

Luhan’s eyes rounded, looking closer to a deer caught in headlights than usual, remembering the mask that in a way afforded him a lot of freedom. He hesitates a bit, then takes off his mask, bracing himself for the inevitable.

“….”

“….”

“….”

“….”

“Wow,” she softly laughed, “sorry, I was taken aback for a while there. It was a bit dark that other night so I thought that I just imagined you to be so….pretty?”

“So, am I?” Luhan regretted the words after it came out of his stupid mouth. He didn’t know why he blurted that, maybe he was a bit smarting from the fact that she doesn’t seem to know who he is (but that’s a good thing right?), and somehow (to his surprise) he is getting used to people complimenting him on his looks.

“Oh yes, I think you’re really pretty.” She smiled at him, before doing a couple of warm up jumps. “The question is --,” she reaches down for the ball, and throws it squarely at Luhan, almost hitting his face if it weren’t for his quick reflex, “—are you even good at soccer?” She counters with a gleam in her eye.

Luhan pretends to re-tie his shoelaces to hide the grin on his face.  He knows that look –the same look that Xiumin hyung claims to see on him every time they manage to squeeze in a game during their breaks. “Right,” Luhan says as he takes off his jacket, drapes it neatly beside her gym bag. “Where do we start?”
 

---

 

“You. Are. Insane.” You cough out with each gasp as you catch your breath, throwing aside any shred of dignity left in you by carelessly plopping onto the ground and leaning your back against the goal post for support. You should’ve known when he shed his jacket, revealing lean hard muscles that you didn’t notice a while ago, that you’re going to eat your words. When he started bouncing the ball on his knees then switched to headers flawlessly, you definitely know that you’re in for some rude awakening.

Still, after the joke has passed, he manages to assist you all throughout the drill, helped you with your footwork, received your passes, and pushed you past exhaustion. It was tiring and straining.

It was wonderful.

“You asked me if I was good so it’s better to just show it,” he shrugged, reaching out his hand to help you stand up.

“I prefer to at least know the name of my tormentor.” You teased as you take his hand. Gone was the initial shyness, given that you have basically muttered not-so-nice words under your breath while he was showing skill after skill of soccer awesomeness.

“I’m Luhan.” The grip on your hand becomes noticeably tighter.

You eased the pressure by clasping your other hand on his and shook it as you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m ___.” You extract your hands and make your way to your bag. He sat beside you as you start packing your gear.

“Is that a Korean name? It’s the first time I heard it,” you wondered.

“I’m from China, but I live here now.” A sad look passes across his eyes, which he quickly banked and asks you, “you do have a Korean name, but have you lived here long? I can hear an accent.”

“Ah yes, I’m Korean,” you zip your bag closed, “but I lived in England before because of my dad’s job. I only transferred here a year ago.” You start walking back to the entrance of the University, Luhan keeping pace beside you, his eyes widening at the new information.

“England? So were you able to go to a Manchester United match?” Seriously, you can see the stars in his eyes.

“Hahaha yes I did! But I’m more of an Arsenal fan.” You had to stop yourself from laughing out loud at the quick way he turned his head towards you. “And c’mon, Ronaldo is not there anymore.”

He sighed. “I know…but hope springs eternal.”

You notice that both of you are almost at the school gate. “Well this was fun, Luhan, I—”

“Is your home nearby? I’ll walk you home.” Luhan starts to reach for your gym bag.

“Ah no, that’s alright.” You try to move your bag out of his grasp. “Please,” he insisted, “let me do this at least if I’m not going to fix your camera after all.”

You find it weird to continue the tug-of-war in front of the school, so you let Luhan take your bag. You led the way to your house which was, thankfully, just a few blocks away. That’s less time to deal with the cold. You look at Luhan, who began to put his mask over his mouth again, noting you should bring something like that to block the cold after practice.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “how did you know where to bring my camera?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I looked at your photos and saw the one in front of this school and recognized you.” He shot an embarrassed smile in your direction.

You nodded at him then looked straight ahead as you near your house. You don’t know how to feel that this new friend – can you already call him your friend? – of yours saw private moments of you and your second family.

Sensing your mood, Luhan starts walking closer to you, nudging your shoulder with his. “I’m really sorry,” he said in a soft voice, “I was drawn into the pictures, I think all of you guys looked very happy…even behind the tears towards the last ones.”

You smile at him reassuringly, “No, that’s okay. I just miss them that’s all…well here’s my house.” You got your bag from Luhan. You waved him goodbye and turned towards your door.

“____-ah” You felt your heart do a little skip as you turned back at him. “Are you practicing tomorrow?”

You don’t plan to go to the field tomorrow but – “Yup, I will.” a voice that sounds like yours answered.

He stared at you for a brief moment before walking away. Even with just that look, you know this isn’t the last time you’ll see him.

 

***

 

Damn it, I’m late. Luhan thought, sprinting across the school campus to go to the field. You just made one obligatory phone call to Kris to keep him updated which somehow stretched to two hours of conversation as the phone gets passed on to each member. Hell, if Kai’s poodles where there he would make him talk to them too.

He knows his friends mean well, and yeah…he’s fine…or almost there.

He sees her sitting on the bleachers, her legs brought up against her chest, and her chin resting on her knee as she watches something on her phone. Luhan was about to call in a greeting when he hears an all-too-familiar sound.

“You’re a celebrity?” she asked, the notes of Growl supplying the background music to all the awkwardness.

“Uh, yes?” Luhan does not know how to begin. “I’m a member of EXO. It’s a kpop group.”

“Uhuh,” she continues to look intently at her phone, seemingly entranced by what she’s watching, “…and…you have pink hair.”

Luhan wanted to find a hole to crawl into. “That was our noona’s idea.”   

She is still preoccupied with her phone and it’s making Luhan increasingly anxious. After a few tense moments, she eyes him in wonder, “Wow, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I thought your name was a bit familiar so I had to look it up. I knew you were too cool to just be a random guy in the area.” She turns off her phone and starts doing her warm-ups.

Huh? So that’s it? Luhan thought, slowly going to her side and doing his exercises. By the time they played a game, they have naturally progressed to their own rhythm, each intake of breath already in unison as they run around the field, bodies hitting as each one tries to win a goal over the other.

Thoroughly spent, Luhan lies on the grass, loving the feel of the blades under his arms, and the clean air that passes through his body with every breath. She, to his surprise, lies down in the same manner, just a little bit farther from his arm’s reach.

“So,” she prompted, looking at the cloudless sky as she asks, “how does it feel like? Always performing in front of all those people, adoring and loving what you guys do?”

“It’s a different kind of high,” Luhan acknowledged, “we worked so hard for a long time and I feel that we’ve barely scratched the surface. I am overwhelmed and I can already feel it taking a toll on my body and my mind especially when I wake up and I can’t remember what day it is or which city we are in. It came to the point when I just get through the motions and let myself be dragged, and I miss my family.” He takes a deep breath. “I question starting all of this in the first place. That’s why I went out of the city for a while.” He turned his head towards her, while she kept her upturned face still towards the sky.

      

---

 

“I think you attack everything you do with passion,” you said, still looking above you so that he won’t see your emotions plainly etched onto your face. You can feel his eyes on you as you continued, “go back to what is it about performing that makes you more alive than how you were before. That’s what I ask myself every time I feel my body is giving up on me when I push myself to continue playing.” You smiled, you weren’t planning to reveal that about yourself but somehow, you know that Luhan is the right person to confess it to.

“Soccer is the way I connect with people. I’ve been switching schools a lot growing up, so it’s hard for me to form deep friendships since there’s a chance that we might move again to another city or country. But soccer made it quicker somehow, there’s an automatic shared experience among us that makes it easier for me to relate to them. Because of that,” you pointed to the ball, “and that,” you pointed to the goal, “I got not only to feel like my body’s doing a certain purpose, it also fills my heart that I got to share time that is equally as precious to my teammates. Case in point,” you try to dispel the serious mood by laughingly adding, “If it weren’t for soccer you wouldn’t even be here.”

“That’s not true.”

You finally turned your face towards him, who has been looking at you all throughout this exchange. “Even if it weren’t for soccer,” he continued, “I’ll find a way to be with you.”

It’s about as close to an actual confession that you have ever received. You feel a slight tightening in your chest, because deep inside, despite what he said, you know that one of you will be hurt given the circumstances.

And it’s likely to be you.

“Luhan,” you said softly, thinking that you might as well be hit by reality than deny it, “you would have to go back to Seoul.”

Luhan looked straight into your eyes, knowing full well that he cannot lie.

“I have to.”

 

---

 

I’m in deep trouble.

You keep repeating this to yourself in different ways, different words, different phrasings – but the message is one and the same: You’re in trouble. Because you’re in love with Luhan.

You felt the initial stirrings of attraction for him ever since he crashed into you at the parking lot. And you tried, really tried, to not fall head-over-heels – clichéd the term might be – in love with him.

At first you thought it was over, that day at the start of the week when you found out that he would have to go back to Seoul. You were surprised the next day that there he is, again, out in the field waiting for you, bubble tea in hand and talking animatedly as if you didn’t basically spill out your guts and give unwarranted advice the day before. You soon fell back into that easy rhythm, as if he’s your longtime friend, talking about how you miss England and how he wished he could go home to China regularly. As he walks you back to your house everyday, you try to convince him to sing one of his songs (or even dance, you’ll take what you can get) but he always laughs and tells you that he is not really in the mood.

You are definitely crazy to punish your body and practice every day but you can’t help but go to the deserted field every single time, hoping that he might be there.

And he always is. Every day for the entire week. He doesn’t even make it easier for you to forget him at all.

Like clockwork, you come round from the edge of the campus and enter the field, not daring to hope that you’ll see him again. You always steel yourself for the disappointment (and the pain) in preparation for the day that it’ll come up empty.

You gaze towards the goal on the other end and broke into a grin.

 

---

 

You’re not making this easy, was the first thought on Luhan’s mind as he watches the girl who became increasingly important to him make her way to the bleachers. How she manages to do so in just a few days is still a mystery to him, but without planning to, he finds himself waking up each morning this week looking forward to the time that he’ll get to spend the day with her.

I can’t let her go, Luhan admitted to himself. But he knew he had to. The calls from the agency have been more frequent and more urgent each day, with Kris getting increasingly agitated every time he answers his phone.

He knows he had to leave sooner or later. And that is why he can’t bring himself to tell her how he feels.

“Are you planning to be the goalie this time?” the familiar voice shakes Luhan off from his reverie. That’s when he noticed that he had been standing right in middle of the goal, with the two posts flanking his sides.

“Depends, are you going to practice again? I know your match is tomorrow but you’ve been playing everyday this week. I am already preparing myself in case I have to suddenly carry you to the emergency room.” Luhan jokes, although he is also worried about her since she pushes herself too hard at times. “Would it be okay if we just hang out?”

“Why would I even go along with your request?” she smiled mischievously, and crosses her arms as she leans back into one of the goalposts. “When I’ve been nagging you to at least sing me just ONE line and you won’t?”

Luhan smiles and decides to surprise her by singing one of his favorite EXO songs.

On your tiny wings you fly towards me
Waving at me and telling me to go to you

Those sad eyes, that mystic story
That night I stored them inside my heart

Emotion shook his voice as Luhan suddenly realizes that this song is the only way he can tell her how he feels.

 I keep thinking of your cuteness, even my soul longs for you
As if I’m drunk, I forget to breathe, if this is love let me follow you anywhere

 

---

 

You were already preparing yourself to be disappointed when suddenly your jaw drops and your arms uncross to your sides as you listen to Luhan sing with such restrained power in a delicate yet strong voice. You let the beautiful melody take a hold of your heart, and feel tears prick the edge of your eyes. You blinked back the tears before he notices.

Oh dear, if only you could understand what he is singing.

“That was great Luhan!” you try to calm your voice and let the moment pass. “What does it mean?”

You see pure shock register on Luhan’s face. “Aish, I sang it in Mandarin.”

You see the dejected look on his face as he approaches you. You straightened from the goal post and started to pat his head in sympathy.  All of a sudden he grabbed your hand from his head and linked his fingers with yours.

His eyes looked at you intently as he continued singing, this time in Korean. The meaning of the song hits you in full force:

You sit lightly like a waltz and I can’t take my eyes off of you
My eyes naturally follow you each step you take

Lead me, yeah, to the place you live, take me with you
Oh, I’ll follow you even if it’s at the end of the world
Please don’t escape from my vision, don’t disappear even when morning comes
Your walk is the walk I dream of, you are my one and only beautiful butterfly

The tears that you tried so hard to hold back earlier coursed through your cheeks. It is a beautiful song, and speaks exactly about how you feel about him.

You tried to look away but his free hand cupped the nape of your neck and kissed you through your haze of tears. You felt his body press against yours as he followed you while you start stepping back until your back lightly hits the goal post. His hand moved from your nape to the small of your back as his soft lips continue to send warm shivers down your spine.

You poured all your emotions into the kiss, knowing full well that this may be the last time that you can show him how you feel. You gripped the collar of his jacket tighter. It seems like hours, instead of minutes, before he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours.

“___-ah,” he murmured, “What time is your game tomorrow?”

“4PM” you managed to answer even as your knees are threatening to buckle.

“I’ll be there.”

 

***

 

You continue to pummel through the field, taking control of the ball as your teammates assume their positions as you ready to make another goal. The first half has been going well so far, with your team ahead by two points. Both teams are competitive during the season and this just naturally spills out despite it being a friendly match. There are only a few spectators in the field, with most of the students still out on break. Your parents are here though, to your delight; it’s rare that they get to watch you in one of your games.

And still, as your eyes quickly scan your side while playing, you have yet to spot Luhan.

During halftime, you sneak away from your team since you’re not playing on the second half, hoping to see him and maybe, just maybe, get some validation on what happened yesterday. After halftime, you stayed on the side of the field where he may probably see you, still hoping. And hoping.

By 10 minutes into the second half, you are starting to lose hope, trying hard to stay calm at least until the game finishes.

“Hey, ___-ah! Get ready, you’re going to play again,” your coach barked at you.

You look at her in surprise, then went into the field for the substitution, shelving the rollercoaster of emotions as you concentrate on playing.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or some twisted game played by your feelings, but you swear you saw that familiar head of light hair at the corner of your vision, not noticing that your opponent’s defender is going for a sliding tackle.

Pain instantly shot through your knee and leg as you both collided. You’re lying on the field, unable to get up, dark spots starting to cloud your vision. The screams of your teammates are going distant by the minute as darkness engulfs you.

The last thing you felt is the gnawing pain in your heart, thinking that you’re never going to see Luhan again.

 

***

 

A/N: Sorry again for the schizo POVs! I hope you figured it out, the dash/hyphen/whatever is the switching of the POV and the asterisk is to separate the days TT *sigh* I wished  I planned the formatting beforehand.

And of course I hope you recognized that the lyrics above is EXO's "Don't Go" which is one of my favorite songs in the album. You should listen to it (if you haven't). I was already midway in this chapter when I realized that the song somehow fits so I decided to include it. I don't know Mandarin nor Korean and I assumed that both versions (which I used in this chapter) have slight differences in translation. So I just used this and this for the lyrics, I hope the translators don't mind me lifting parts of their work TT.

Hope you stick around for Chapter 3!