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IronyI stood still and silent for a few moments after I smelled the smoke. I didn’t dare turn until I’d made up my mind that I wasn’t going to turn and run back into the school. Eventually, I squared my shoulders and faced Sehun.
He was squatting down by the brick wall, white cigarette resting between his fingers, and staring off at some fixed point that was unimportant. Unsurprisingly, he was frowning. Or maybe that had just become a natural expression that his face set in without thought.
“You’re gonna get in trouble for smoking on school grounds,” I mumbled, walking over to him.
Expression unchanging, he inhaled a puff before turning to look at me. He held out the cigarette, smoke billowing out of his nose as he exhaled.
“It’ll help with the stress,” he said. He waved the cigarette at me. I cringed away, glaring at it and then at Sehun. He hesitated for a moment before shrugging and taking it back. “Well, if you’re not here to smoke with me, what do you want?” He suddenly became testy, speaking as if I had purposely sought him out.
Trying to pretend that the smoke wasn’t tickling my nose in an unpleasant way and my lips weren’t suddenly itching in remembrance of how Sehun had kissed me after smoking, I worked to think of the best way to approach him. Instead, I absently wondered how he could stand to smoke, tasting that disgusting mess. Even if it did take the edge off a bit, I didn’t think it was worth it.
I twiddled my fingers a moment longer before huffily sitting down beside him. He glanced over before looking ahead again, inhaling another deathly spout of smoke. I leaned against the wall, watching the back of his head and how it titled when he moved to put the cigarette in his mouth every once in a while. I honestly wasn’t sure how long I sat there before I finally spoke up, but I was pretty sure I was going to smell like cigarettes when I returned to class. Maybe my mom wouldn’t notice when she did the laundry.
He put the cigarette out, smashing it into the sidewalk and tossing it into the bushes, and glanced at his watch. That indicated I was losing time and chance.
“You know, it’s not the most pleasant thing in the world to kiss a smoker,” I told him, staring at the crown of his head where several brown hairs were tangled, sending a message that he hadn’t brushed his hair that morning.
I saw his shoulders tense up and almost laughed.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” I asked, interestedly. Though, I was a bit uneasy. There was a possibility there were ulterior motives behind his actions and that scared me. If not . . well that scared me, too.
He sighed before placing his hands on the ground behind him and sitting down properly. Scooting back, he leaned on the wall beside me.
“Statistically, I’ve seen you as much as I’ve always seen you: between classes, during lunch, after school. We’ve never exactly been friends that see each other every day and speak to each other when seen.” He folded his hands in his lap, still looking somewhere beyond us. “So technically, I’m not avoiding you. But given the situation at hand, I probably am.”
Pausing from my attempt to search out what he was staring at, I looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows. Then I looked over to the bushes where he’d thrown the cigarette.
“What were you smoking?” I asked cautiously.
Something twitched near his lips and I nearly suspected a smile but he his bottom lip and then pulled it between his teeth. He shook his head, looking at me.
“You don’t speak much, but when you do, it’s a lot and it freaks me out,” I blurted out. He blinked, his eyes suddenly looking amused.
“I don’t trust you,” I deadpanned. It was the honest truth, what I said. It took a little more than a kiss, a hug, and good manners to earn my trust. It didn’t help that he happened to be Oh Sehun.
He glanced at his watch. “We have fifteen minutes. What behavioral issues of mine would you like to address?” he offered. The touch of sarcasm hinted he was having more than behavioral issues and I sighed.
“You don’t just kiss girls when they’ve just been assaulted, Oh Sehun,” I snapped, sitting up. There was a brief scent of familarity in the air. “I don’t know why you just thought that was okay but it wasn’t. And as for behavioral issues, you just seemed to be bipolar as far as I can tell.”
“That’s a serious accusation,” he noted.
I crossed my arms, leaning back onto the wall. “A kiss is serious, too.”
“A first one at that,” he added. I grimaced.
“And what makes you think I wanted my first kiss to be with my bully any more than I wanted it to be with a creep?” I asked. I thought I caught him grimace at the term bully.
He crossed his ankles and glance
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