Kindergarten, right outside the classroom

            “Okay kids, line up! Let’s all stay in two lines, girls over here and boys here.” The teacher gestured with her hands. All the tiny kids queued to get to the front. All of them except for two. Ilhoon was too busy trying to stack his blocks together in a last ditch attempt to finish his tower. Maliha was shuffling at the end, hoping that they would run out of kids and she would have nobody’s hand to hold, except for the teacher’s.

            “Maliha! Come up to the front!” The little girl glanced up, excited. Maybe this time she could be with the teacher and not have to hold some yucky boy’s hand!

            “Ilhoon-ah, you too! If you don’t stop playing with those blocks, I’m going to be forced to take them away!” the teacher threatened. The little boy looked up and scowled, clearly unhappy to be called away from his task.

            For a second, he looked about to defy the teacher but then he carefully placed a red block on the top of the tower and walked to the line. “Ilhoon, you’re going to be standing in the front today. You and Maliha will be our door monitors.”

            His face turned into a pink of horror. “But, I don’t wanna,” he muttered.

            Maliha didn’t want to either, but she couldn’t exactly tell the teacher that and she knew it. She huffed slightly and held out her hand defiantly. She didn’t look at the boy as he used two of his hands to hold her middle finger. The less they touched the better.

            The teacher looked down and placed Maliha’s hand wholly in his. “Ilhoon, you know how to hold hands. Don’t make me mad. The two of you are going to be our door monitors. You will hold the door and then you will go to the end of the line and hold hands. Do you understand?” The two of them nodded.

            The teacher set off. Ilhoon’s hands were sweaty and Maliha wanted to puke in disgust. He clamped her hands and from the way his mouth was set, she could tell he didn’t want to do this just as much as she didn’t. He happily dropped her hand when they arrived at the first door. Ilhoon walked behind the door and held it open with Maliha standing in front of it. Her classmates passed, and muttered their thank you’s.

            When the teacher’s assistant walked by, she nodded and smiled. “Good job, kids, now hold hands again and continue walking.” Ilhoon scowled and picked up Maliha’s hand like it was a piece of garbage he was forced to take outside. She responded in the same manner.

            “Gross, girls have cooties,” he grumbled in his squeaky voice, trudging his sneakers along the floor.

Sixth grade, On the floor of the classroom

            “Close your eyes and hold your partner’s hands. Feel the energy of the circle pass along your arms and throughout your body. Breathe in, breathe out. Welcome to middle school. Keep your eyes closed and imagine all the wonderful goals you want to achieve and the new steps in life you want to take.” The teacher had spiritual music playing in the background and spoke in a soothing voice.

            Maliha held out her hand and didn’t feel anyone take it. The person to the right of her must be an idiot. Did he not understand instructions? She slowly opened her eyes to see who it was. Of course. Her lips thinned. Jung Ilhoon. Why was she not surprised?

            Maliha let out a little ahem and shook her palms, urging him to take it. He also had one eye open and was looking at her in distaste. They were definitely thinking the same thing. Why must we be holding hands again? She dropped her hands and the teacher looked at them sharply.

            “You two, we’re having an exercise for the entire homeroom to participate in. If you two are special enough to be exempt, you are more than welcome to go to the center of the circle and do this with all of us watching.”

            At this, the reluctant boy picked up her hand and held it. After the exercise was over, he promptly dropped it and the two turned away, determined not to talk to one another again. She didn’t know why, but there was just something about Ilhoon that made her annoyed. Maybe it was his blatant disgust at holding her hand that had left such a lasting impression or it could be because of his constant snarl. She has never seen the boy genuinely happy around her. So maybe the feeling was mutual.

Senior year, school dance studio

            “Alright, guys, go ask a lady to dance,” the teacher instructed. There was a shuffle as the two groups migrated towards one another. Maliha stood off to the corner, not really wanting anyone to pick her. Maybe she’ll get lucky and be the only girl left. But no such luck.

            Everyone had paired up and then the teacher asked, “Ilhoon? Do you have a partner?”

            “No,” he answered.

            “Is there anyone else in here without a partner?”

            All heads swiveled in Maliha’s direction. She didn’t even have the chance to fake. The teacher beckoned her over and placed her hands in Ilhoon’s. “You two will demonstrate to us how to tango. Let’s go. Everyone gather in a circle. This is the lead couple.”

            Ilhoon held up his arms in the appropriate frame but made no move to take her hand. The teacher placed Maliha’s hand on his right bicep and forced her hand in his. “Alright. Remember, on the balls of your feet. Gentlemen, guide with your right foot. Front, front, front quick side. Again!”

            Other couples were whispering as they did so, trying to alleviate the awkwardness but Ilhoon kept his eyes on her forehead and she kept hers dutifully off his right shoulder. “Gentlemen, you are staring right at the lady. You are admiring their beauty. Girls, you’re looking off their shoulder, and craning your neck slightly to be graceful. Wide arms!”

            They moved around the room, keeping a healthy two feet’s distance between the two of them. Ilhoon looked quite bored and Maliha prayed today would be the day where they got to rotate partners.

            “Okay, stay with this partner. Do not let go of their arms!” she instructed. Ilhoon had just dropped his frame completely, almost causing her to topple into him. She glared at him and fixed her shirt. Ilhoon didn’t apologize. Instead, he held up his arms again, forcing her to take the initiative. She hated Ilhoon. With a passion at that moment.

            “We’re doing the corvette. Boys, you pull your arm back and the ladies step forward. Do not touch diaphragms. We’re still in school. Let’s go.”

            Ilhoon absentmindedly pulled his arm back and Maliha’s arm strained as she tried to maintain her balance. “What is your problem?” she finally hissed in frustration.

            He blinked blankly at her. “I hate touching.” He said.

            “Same here, you idiot, but I try to cooperate. If you didn’t want to hold hands, why did you take this class?” He blushed at this and didn’t answer. Maliha raised her eyebrows. Could she have gotten somewhere with this enigmatic kid?

Six years later, wedding

            Maliha stood behind her best friend and took a deep breath. She held up the bride’s long train and stood tall. Across from her, was Ilhoon. Ugh, why did her friend had to be married to his cousin of all people? But this was not her day, so she kept shut.

            Her friend turned to her with happy tears in her eyes. “Remember, it’s going to be untraditional. I want you two to hold hands and go off to one side, and the other couple will follow okay? It’s sort of like square dancing, remember from freshman year?”

            Maliha cracked a grin and nodded. “I got it.” She could only hope her partner would cooperate.

            The organs sounded and the happy couple set off down the aisle, holding hands. They parted off to the right side and Maliha took a deep breath. To her surprise, Ilhoon had his hand held out. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but he was grinning, a shy little grin. Maliha returned with a full smile and for the first time in her life, willingly put her hand into his accepting ones. 

I'm sorry it took me a long time to write this.

There are multiple reasons for it and I don't feel like explaining. Either way, I love that you came to me and asked me to write for you again. It feels a bit like old times ♥

Here, enjoy. And tell me when I can crash at your house, okay?
-Love, 

Your erted Unni