Seunghoon doesn’t usually think much. He treats his life as a spring breeze, preferring to take things as they come and go instead of lingering on thoughts. He listens but never really connects, he makes friends but never really builds relationships; his entire life is built on the basis of touch-and-go.  He prefers to live in the moment rather than to be locked by the anchors of yesterday, prefers to laugh and banter around and live each day like a fresh page.






Students start scrambling into their seats just as the monotonous ring of the school bell reverberates through the class. Mr. Han, the homeroom teacher, walks into class, usual grouchy frown on his face, usual beady eyed stare penetrating into every student’s eyes. There was something, or rather, someone unusual today though. Eyes so large it made him seem to be in a perpetual state of shock, hair neatly combed to the side, uniform crisp and ironed, pink lips stretching into a hesitant shy smile.

“Hihi! I’m Kim Jinwoo and I want to be friends!” he greets, voice going up at least 3 octaves by the time he reaches the end of his enthusiastic self-introduction. His hands fly to clasp over his mouth sheepishly the moment his voice cracks at the end, cheeks turning the cutest shade of pink. Seunghoon laughs along with the rest of the class and gives the transfer student a welcome fist bump as he takes the empty seat next to him. Jinwoo takes out his Biology textbook and his eyebrows knit in the absolute confusion as Mr. Han writes “The Joseon Dynasty” on the whiteboard. Thin fingers scratch at his head and he his head to the side. The sound of paper rustling is too loud for Seunghoon to ignore and he turns, only to see Jinwoo frantically flipping through the textbook, white pages whirled up in a flurry like a snowstorm. Seunghoon laughs as he catches sight of a diagram of the human anatomy on one page.  Deftly leaning over to Jinwoo’s desk, he taps once, twice and flashes histextbook. Korean History. Jinwoo’s blushes again and he mouths a “oops” before hurriedly digging into his bag. Korean History plops onto his desk and he turns to catch Seunghoon’s eyes before offering another sheepish smile.


Turns out that confusion is Kim Jinwoo’s middle name. 15 minutes into break time, Seunghoon notices that the poor boy is still circling outside the classroom, a ridiculously large map of the school compound clasped in his hands.
“I can’t find the canteen,” Jinwoo says between embarrassed chuckles, handing Seunghoon his map. Seunghoon swears he tried his best not to, but hearty chortles escaped him, shoulders heaving up, down, up, down. This isn’t the map of their high school; it’s the map of the university two streets down the road. No wonder the compound looked insanely huge.


Seunghoon leads the way to the canteen, breaking out in short bursts of laughter whenever his eyes drift to the map held tightly in Jinwoo’s tiny hands.



Jinwoo even loses his way back to their table from the stall. Seunghoon had to guide the petrified-looking boy holding his bowl of ramen that had already turned stone-cold down the 5 metres route back to their table.  How is it humanly possible for someone to be so bad at directions? Seunghoon thinks silently, utterly amused as he spots Jinwoo standing in the middle of the cafeteria, index finger tapping on his bottom lip, eyebrows knitted in frustration, 10 minutes after adamantly refusing Seunghoon’s offer to take him to the toilet.
Seunghoon chuckles again, looking at his watch. He’ll just wait another minute.


60 seconds passes and Seunghoon gets up to his feet.
“So, toilet?”
Jinwoo’s embarrassed nod is incredibly adorable.






Seunghoon doesn’t usually think much. He treats his life as a spring breeze, preferring to take things as they come and go instead of lingering on thoughts. But tonight, Seunghoon goes to bed preoccupied with thoughts of eyes that curved into crescents, blushing cheeks and the tinkle of shy chuckles.  He dreams of cotton candy and marshmallows and a boy sweeter than them.







This whole thinking thing is extremely foreign to Seunghoon and its driving him insane. Seunghoon has never thought so much before. Never in his 18 years of existence.  But now, Jinwoo fills up the blank void in his mind at night. Jinwoo’s the beat to the music he dances to, he’s the rhythm of the rise and fall of Seunghoon’s chest. Seunghoon sees him everywhere and its driving him insane. Absolutely insane. It’s almost as if he’s compensating for the lack of thinking for the past 18 years with 1 month of intense brooding over thoughts.

Seunghoon tells himself that he shouldn’t be tied up in the sticky web of thoughts, chants it like a mantra every night. But, come morning when Jinwoo skips into class and loops his arm with his, his resolve dissolves away. Just like his soul. Long lashes that lined pretty doe eyes that twinkled like the brightest of all stars, pretty pink lips that only ever uttered kind words, cute pointed nose, porcelain skin like a china doll, thick hair that swept neatly above his eyes; Seunghoon could practically memorize every inch of Jinwoo.








Jinwoo is unbelievably clingy and sentimental. 1 week into their friendship, he handed Seunghoon a handwritten “Thank You for Being My Friend for 1 Week” card complete with hand drawn stickmans and smiley faces. He’d looped his arm around Seunghoon’s so naturally, completely oblivious that Seunghoon had dropped his ice cream right afterwards, cheeks burning crimson.  With more “thank you for being my friend for 2 weeks”, “thank you for being my friend for 3 weeks” and “HAPPY ONE MONTH FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY” cards, Jinwoo’s skinship escalated exponentially. From simple arms looping, he’d upgraded to ruffling Seunghoon’s hair, slapping his thigh while laughing at a particular good joke, or just fiddling with Seunghoon’s fingers before casually lacing their fingers together. Seunghoon felt like he was constantly standing at the edge of a cliff and every single casual brush of their fingers together was a violent kick to his back, sending him free falling right over the edge.











Jinwoo is so naïve. Too naïve.  The clock strikes 1 but Seunghoon’s phone is still pressed tightly against his ear, as if afraid that if he were to loosen his grip, the conversation would slip out of his possession. Seunghoon practically lives for these late night phone calls now. With his room lights all switched off, lanky boy all wrapped up in his toasty duvet, conversations with Jinwoo always warmed him up in all the right places.  It’s a casual question but Seunghoon’s heart jumps right into his mouth.
“You always call me every night, do you like me or something?”
“NO!” Seunghoon’s shout was instinctive and he’s already thinking about Jinwoo’s startled face on the other end of the line.
“You startled me,” Jinwoo says, quiet laughter making Seunghoon’s heart thud at a pace he never knew was humanly possible. They talk about nonsensical things, about how Jinwoo once tried to go to Busan but ended up in Ilsan, about how Jinwoo likes this school so much more than his previous school, about how they should totally have a sleepover sometime soon so Seunghoon doesn’t need to call Jinwoo anymore since he’ll be there in person. Seunghoon listens and connects.
Its 3:34 am when Seunghoon finally sinks under his duvet, carelessly throwing his phone onto his bedside table. It’s dark but all he sees is the brightness of Jinwoo’s smile and the radiance of his enthusiastic chatter.






The sleepover does actually happen two weeks later. Jinwoo loops his arm around Seunghoon like how he always does and Seunghoon wonders if he can feel how fast his heart is palpitating. The movie is dry and predictable but Jinwoo watches it with such intensity, Seunghoon is captivated.
Jinwoo (finally) notices that Seunghoon’s been staring at him and nudges him in the ribs. “Are you watching the movie or are you watching me?”
“The movie, obviously,” Seunghoon says, eyes hurriedly flitting over to the laptop screen, making an act of stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth and furiously chewing. He wills his heart to calm down but Jinwoo does a cute squeal and giggles as the protagonists kiss and Seunghoon all about gives up.

The protagonists kiss at least 4 more times in the rest of the movie and Jinwoo ends up stuffing his face in a pillow to muffle his squeals.  Seunghoon just looks at him, amused, and thinks about how much Jinwoo would squeal if he were the one who were kissed instead. Flash to the instant thought about how great it’d be to kiss Jinwoo and Seunghoon shakes his head so violently Jinwoo looks up from the pillow to look at him curiously. Seunghoon stuffs more popcorn into his face.



Jinwoo is talking to one of Seunghoon’s teddy bears after having apparently named him “Alfred” and forming an emotional bond with him. It’s impulsive but something about Jinwoo gently Alfred’s head and hugging it tightly causes Seunghoon to decide to formulate his thoughts into words. It a decision he’d been brooding about for weeks now. (He’s thinking about a lot of stuff now, he realizes.)


“Jinwoo ah,” he starts off strong, with a firm voice and a determined gaze but his resolve melts into nothing the minute Jinwoo smiles at him, hands still tightly holding Alfred.

If you were Juliet, can I be your Romeo?
Are you religious? Because you're the answer to all my prayers.
Did you invent the airplane? Cause you seem Wright for me.

Forget all the pick-up lines he had spent countless nights earnestly making up, with just a single confused pout from Jinwoo, his ability to speak instantaneously crumbles into a mangled mess of incomprehensible stammering.

“I-I kinda like you,” he blurts out, voice embarrassingly cracking halfway through. Jinwoo stares at him for a second before breaking out into his irresistible smile that sent Seunghoon’s knees quaking. 
“I like you too,” He pipes and Seunghoon’s heart is hammering so hard against his chest it might just pound right out anytime now.
“And so does Alfred,” Jinwoo continues, picking the stuffed toy up and waving it about.
“And so does Elizabeth,” he waves another toy, this time a stuffed duck. Seunghoon stops him before he grabs and names another toy, warm hands wrapping around Jinwoo’s wrist and pulling him closer.

They’re awfully close and Jinwoo doesn’t seem to mind at all but Seunghoon feels like he’s going to die.



“I like you,” he repeats, already thinking about a good place to dig a hole to bury himself in because his voice just cracked (again!)
Seunghoon can see the lightbulb flashing above Jinwoo’s head as his mouth opens and closes, opens and closes.


“You mean...” Jinwoo trails off, eyes so fixed on Seunghoon that Seunghoon’s starting to feel like an exotic exhibit on display at the museum.
Seunghoon tries to play it cool and save himself from the burning embarrassment, nodding his head casually and all but his voice gives him away as it breaks (again) when he replies, “yeah.” Forget it, he’s just going to perish in the flames.


Jinwoo giggles suddenly. Seunghoon jumps, startled and Jinwoo giggles even more. Please help me, Seunghoon prays because Jinwoo actually begins to squeal right now, making Alfred and Elizabeth do some weird tango.

“Hoonie,” he says, looping his arm around Seunghoon’s once more, “does this mean we get to do this?” Alfred’s and Elizabeth’s faces are squished together, a yellow beak awkwardly pushing against a brown line. Jinwoo laughs at Seunghoon’s shocked gasp of realization and he swings his arms around his neck, swooping in for a quick peck.


Jinwoo collapses into a jumble of squeals immediately, diving into the bed, legs wildly kicking at the air. Seunghoon is left standing in the middle room, fingers reaching up to tap at his tingling lips. That’s one more thing to think about, he supposes. He glances at Jinwoo who’s slapping his own cheeks in an apparent bid to calm down and he laughs, diving right next to him only to launch an intense attack of tickles on him. Between scuffling and thrilled squeals, Seunghoon wonders how he could have gotten through the past 18 years without thinking at all. He wouldn’t mind thinking about this for the rest of his life.