Liking someone was something I’ve never experienced before. It’s such a fascinating feeling as well as confusing because how many times can one person want to sprint away from someone and stay right by his side all at the same time?

I couldn’t find the right words close enough to describe what I feel every single time I see him walking his way closer, or in every single instance that I get to hear his voice, or how my skin seemed to tingle in happiness when it brushes against his. It’s like every cell in my body was on high alert the moment I spot him, making my brain go blank so I stayed rooted to a spot to stare at him, to watch how elegant he made his every move.

The feeling is as addictive as it is scary.

It’s like the world – my world – was suddenly revolving around him, making him the center of my attention that I had started to draw his face instead of my angel. And I couldn’t help but notice how those black wings suited him, making me wonder what he would look like if he was born with one.

I bet they were the purest wings in the color of white.

It would be a breathtaking sight.

But I couldn’t help but feel down every single time he gives us a smile. It was something I was always curious about, it was too perfect that it looked fake to me. They didn’t reach his eyes, they were empty smiles meant to be polite. He was giving them away so much it was almost sickening to watch, almost as if he didn’t even want to smile anymore yet he’s forced to do so, like all the choices he ever had had been stripped away from him.

I would rather see him frown than pretend to be happy.

Because the more he does it, the more he fools himself that pretending was an answer, like it could make everything else better. And I couldn’t deny how every part of him breaks a little more with each fake smile, with each fake laugh that he gives – I could see it in his eyes. The way his eyes looked like they’ve had enough, begging for something to end an eternal struggle he was stuck with, hoping for things to move forward faster so that the worst can happen already, like he was already anticipating another tragedy to happen – like his whole life was made of all the kind of pain and suffering mankind had ever experienced, making it insignificant and lifeless.

And it hurt, because somehow I know that his eyes would have looked beautiful as it twinkled with life and emotions, seeing that the world is as colorful and vibrant as the rainbow. I was almost sure how sweet and breathtaking his smile would have looked as it sincerely crawls out of from the deepest part of his heart, bringing with it all the love and happiness everyone deserved.

Yet somehow, when his lonely back was facing me, it was screaming he isn’t deserving of such things. And it showed at how he would momentarily freeze up when I sit or stand a little closer to him, how he would be holding his breath as our fingers brushed against each other as I grab something in his hold, and how he would think for a while before answering my questions as if weighing his choice of words, like he’s afraid that a wrong sentence would make myself distance from him, like a simple skin ship would drive me away, or his presence alone would make me want to disappear.

And his every sigh of relief never went unnoticed.

“Do you think he somehow hates me?” I asked Chanyeol on a Saturday afternoon as we lounge around a coffee shop outside the campus. I couldn’t concentrate enough to actually draw, my mind constantly floating elsewhere and deciding to dwell around that question. It’s not like I’ve just thought about now, it’s been bouncing around in my head for a while now just waiting to be asked, and as I watched Chanyeol calmly enjoy his parfait I couldn’t help but voice it out.

“Who do I think hates you?” Chanyeol asked over a spoonful of ice cream.

“Kai.”

“Why would he hate you?”

This time, I looked at him straight in the eyes.

“He seemed to despise my very presence.”

Chanyeol sighed as he looked at me, eyes full of undeniable sympathy and sadness – something I never saw in his eyes before; even after all of the years we’ve been together.

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate-”

“I see how he flinches away from me with every little thing I do Yeol, I’m not blind,” I said dejectedly. Now that I think about it, I hated how he just naturally deflect my very existence – like he’s scared… scared of me. “It’s either he hates me, or he hates being around me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

I raised a confused eyebrow in Chanyeol’s direction. Why does he seem so sure about this?

“Trust me, he doesn’t hate you.”

===============

“If you keep this up, he’s going to think that you hate him,”

“You know I don’t hate him Baek.”

“Yeah well, I know, but he doesn’t.”

I sighed. Like always, Baekhyun had a point. But it wasn’t like I meant to act the way I do when I’m around him, it’s just a natural reaction because no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I should just relax and let things naturally fall into place, I was still beyond frightened at how bad things could get with a small wrong move.