"Holy !" You screamed down the window at no one in particular.

Well actually, rather, something in particular.

"What's wrong again, honey?" Your mom called out from the kitchen, her voice clearly laced with annoyance and irritation.

"I dropped my slippers down the window."

Your mom walked out with her hands behind her back, obviously having a hard time untying the knot on her apron.

"Wait, what?" Your mom screeched, and you had to just tell her to shut up before ranting on about how many days she spent eating trash just to get you those slippers —

"You go down and get that fluff back, young lady. Oh gosh, what if there are centipedes crawling all over?" Your mom stares at you, her eyes widening to the size of (you swear) ten footballs merged into one. "Or worse, what if it gets run over by a car —"

"Mom, the centipedes down there are practically extinct. And what's more, I dropped it onto the grass patch. Someone with a right mind wouldn't drive his car straight into a tree."

Your mom went speechless for a second, before gesturing you to get down there right now with a flick of her fingertips and giving you her or-else-you-will-get-punched-and-turn-into-grapes look.

You unlocked the door and ran out without bothering to get a change of clothes since you really didn't want to get punched in the face, so your hair was downright messy like a squirrel just laid eggs in there. (And yes you're right, squirrels actually DON'T lay eggs.) You pressed the lift button and waited for it to arrive. You looked up and unconsciously started to countdown.

16, 15, 14.

You punched your finger multiple times on the button. Why wasn't it ing responding?

13, 12, 11.

You swear you would kick your foot right into the doors the minute the lift arrives.

10, 9, 8.

You were literally banging your face against the wall.

7, 6 —

"WHY YOU STILL STANDING THERE YOUNG LADY, I TOLD YOU TO GO DOWN RIGHT NOW. CENTIPEDES! CENTIPEDEEEEEEES!"

Blame the Lord.

Right when the lift reached the fifth floor and the lift doors opened, you had already made a mad dash down the stairs. When you heard the loud 'ding' signalling the arrival of the lift, you contemplated going back, but then you decided against it. Receiving those horrible screeches were just plain unbearable.

You finally ran out onto the grass patch and didn't even bother catching your breath before you realise...

That ing fluff wasn't there.

Maybe it got eaten by the centipedes, or maybe it really got ran over by a car.

Then the reality of it all hit you in the face.

"HOLY , WHO TOOK MY —"

"Hello."

You received a small tap on your shoulder.

And so you turned around and screamed, "HOLY COW WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU HAVE MY SLIPPERS?"

He had delicate features; his nose straight yet beautiful, his large eyes unblinking and captivating. His lips were curled into a small smirk, and his dark brown hair was dishevelled in a way that was messy but so y at the same time.

But your eyes were on those slippers. Yes, those freaking slippers, if not you'll be admiring his face and wondering why wasn't he in your life already.

"Uh, is this yours?"

He raised up his left hand, which was clutching the slippers tightly.

"YES," you desperately nodded, occasionally glancing up to see whether your creepy mom was checking up on you.

"Alright then," he hands them over to you. "I was a little curious as to who the owner was, since I just got hit by the slippers on the head when I was walking —"

"Oh my god," you buried your face in your hands and didn't dare look him in the eyes. "I am so, so sorry..." 

You suddenly realised he was shifting uncomfortably when you were peeking out from the gaps through your fingers. He didn't stare at you so intently anymore. You blinked and cocked your head to the side, not understanding the situation until you glanced down —

.

You instinctively crossed your arms over your chest after realising that you rushed out of your house not only with hair that seemed to be trampled over by bulls and also just a tee.

Yes, just a tee. Without your usual set of undergarments. Why did I have to meet such a beautiful ing angel and just mess up.

Your face instantly heated up and immediately looked away, having this stranger (category: male) noticing your —

Suddenly you felt something warm wrapping around your body, and you looked up and saw his face just inches beside you, his chin almost propped against your shoulder as he draped his sweater around you. As you both went closer you could feel the warmth or his body against yours. You couldn't help but noticed that your heart missed a beat. You mumbled a word of thanks and offered him a grateful smile, the blush still evident on your cheeks.

"Really, there's no need for this. I'm just going to go back up," you stared up at him, fascinated with the way his eyes twitched ever so slightly. "Like right now. Just give me back my slippers."

He smiled gently and handed the slippers over, his eyes forming into beautiful crescents as he did so. He was just so perfect.

"Don't drop them again, you never know who's head it might hit on the next time," he raised his eyebrows, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

those eyes.

those lips.

Your hand barely managed to grasp the slippers before you felt it slide through your grip.

Dang.

Both of you stared at the slippers lying pathetically on the ground.

Followed by silence.

"Let us not treat it as an omen?" He offered, before squatting (with much glam) and holding out the slippers to you again. You could see the distinct outline of his perfectly carved hands.

those hands.

those fingers.

You wordlessly accepted the slippers, when his hand accidentally slides pass your own. His soft skin was so flawless. You paused there for a moment before noticing that it slid through your grip. Again.

Double dang.

You and whoever-it-is stared at the slippers lying pathetically on the ground.

Followed by silence.

"Let us pray to the Lord to not let it fall again," you whispered and inhaled sharply when he squats down (with double the glam), leaving you staring at the top of his head. Those bangs, it looks so warm and fluffy...

"Here," he held them out for the third time that day. You looked down at his deep brown eyes and then his soft lips. They were so kissable... You realised you were staring and hoped he didn't notice.

You quickly turned to look at the slippers, and reached out to take it —

— when it slides through your fingers yet again. What the hell is wrong with you today?

Screw you.

"You have some serious explaining to do, young lady." You turned around and groaned.

People, save the Lord.

— — —

You walked through the empty halls, your eyes scanning every single locker. It was way after school, and the silence weighing down upon the school corridors was deafening, with no one in sight. All the classrooms were already locked, prohibiting any unauthorised entrance after seven at night. You peeped into the windows through the gaps between the curtains, and you let your eyes wander around the classroom.

His classroom.

You remained as stiff as a rock when your gaze rested on a particular table.

His table.

They didn't remove it after all.

You had a sudden urge to run to his table and hug it. And so you didn't care if anyone saw before you unlatched the screws of the window with your nimble fingers, not caring if your polished nails would bend and break, and placed the glass panels on the floor before you swung one leg through the window. You parted the curtains and hoisted yourself up and soon enough, you were standing on the lockers, your eyes zeroed in on his table. You felt suffocated as you approached his seat, and your fingers grazed across the carvings on his table. A nostalgic feeling swept over you, and before you knew it you broke down, your tears flowing freely down your face. You cried without a care in the world, not bothering to check whether your mascara was running, whether your gloss was smudged, or whether your eyes were red and puffy.

You stared at the words, your face contorted into pain and happiness when the memories passed through your mind. You were smiling, but you were crying.

Because the words you saw deserved your tears.

Luhan + Pororo

— — —

"You aren't serious."

"I am. I like Pororo."

"Why are you telling me this?" Luhan stares at you, his eyes widening to the size of ten basketballs.

"Because you asked me what I liked."

"Oh," he went quiet, and he shifted his knees and looks at you with a weird grin plastered across his face. "Pororo, you say?"

"Yeah, oh, and I like grapes too," you offered, pausing a moment before you found a need to clarify. "Seedless ones, especially."

Luhan stares more intently at you, his mouth slightly dangling.

"So, Pororo," he says it in a way that was more like a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, Luhan. Pororo," you stated firmly, your arms crossed over your shirt. "Why? Do I look like a who doesn't deserve soft toys?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Luhan gazes into your eyes, and his brown orbs were so captivating that you were almost leaning in...

"Uh," his voice brought you back to reality, and you snapped open your eyes to find yourself only a few inches away from his lips. "Why are you suddenly —"

Because you're ing beautiful.

"What? Because I'm... fabulously bratty?"

You wanted to smash your face against the table. That bloody mouth of yours —

"No, I mean you're beautiful and uh, your eyes are like grapes..." You spluttered, scrambling to find the right words.

"My. Eyes. Are. Like. Grapes," he emphasises each word carefully and dramatically, his eyes narrowing into slits. "So are the irises the seeds?"

"I told you, I do NOT like grapes with seeds —"

"You owe me an explanation," Luhan leans in even closer, his eyes twinkling with playfulness, although his smile was pressed into a thin line.

"I like Pororo," you whispered, staring at his lips. They were a light tinge of pink, looking soft and delicious —

He pulls back.

You felt a sudden loss of warmth, and you unconsciously started to slouch.

"What's so great about Pororo anyway?"

"Because it's like a cute, seedless grape."

"What if I tell you that Pororo was invented from grapes with seeds?"

"You wouldn't!" You gasped, gaping at him in shock. "Ew! You mean Pororo's beak idea originated from seeds?"

"Yeah, the creator was upset after getting ditched by his girlfriend, so one night he went back home and sat in front of the TV while eating grapes —"

"Wait, what? He ate the grapes without peeling the skin off first? Now that man needs one heck of an education —"

"How am I suppose to know, woman? So anyway, he didn't bother peeling his grapes and when he picked one up, he freaking realised..." Luhan pauses for effect, before raising both of his hands against his sides, his eyes settling themselves beyond the horizon.

"What?"

Luhan slowly turned to stare at you, and you felt your body grow uncomfortable and hot under his intense gaze. He inched in closer, and closer, and closer. 

Until your figure was pressed against the wall.

"He freaking realised that the grape was like the shape of a bird's beak!"

Silence.

"Oh." You blinked, biting your bottom lip to suppress your laughter.

"What 'oh'? I mean, wasn't that supposed to be hilarious?"

When he leaned back, you let out a breath that you'd been unconsciously holding and started clutching your stomach and laughing out loud.

"Oh my god, that was SO hilarious, you mean Po – po – roro —"

Yes, everything was fine and fun just 0.2 seconds ago.

Until you started choking. PLOT TWIST.

Luhan panicked. His expression immediately contorted into one of confusion and shock, and he stared at you in a way that was how your mom would have looked like when you accidentally spit toothpaste on her face when you were brushing your teeth and talking to her at the same time.

And so being the inexperienced amateur he is when it comes to choking people, he banged his fist right into your back.

"ASDFGHJKL."

Your eyes instantly turned red and you held your throat in one hand while pointing up the other at him accusingly.

"You one hell of an a– – hole. Want to – EHWEH EHWEH – kill me eh?"

Luhan shrugged, before throwing his hands up into the air with that what-can-I-do-to-help-you?-you-trucker look. You shot him a dirty glare and you felt tears gather at your eyes.

"H-HELP – EHWEH EHWEHHHH – ME."

"Yes Pororo."

"Don't bang that fuuuu – EHWEH EEHWEH – fist into me again!"

"Yes Pororo."

"Don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Yes Pororo."

— — —

You were kneeling against his table with your right cheek pressed against the carvings.

Those precious carvings.

They reminded you of everything. Things that you two used to bicker about, joke about, laugh about. They captured every, single thing you two did together.

Until he tears himself away.

You stood up slowly, and you failed to notice that your legs were shaking uncontrollably with every step you took. You just stared ahead continued walking. Lifelessly. You leaned against the blackboard, not minding if anyone bothered to clean the board and if your blouse was stained.

Your chest was heaving heavily from all the crying and you felt shortness of breaths. You turned your head to the other side of the window, and you saw a shadow on the wall.

"Who's there?"

You scrambled to the door, and heard a faint mumble of curses.

You peeked out from the curtains, and a streak of blonde flashed pass your eyes. But you looked out the window and there was no one to be found. You heard the sound of light footsteps against the cold, hard cement.

But you weren't sure if it was just the illusions of your mind or the longing of your heart.