Chapter 7: 'Same Place, Same Time.'

I grumble as sunlight hits my eyes, calling me to rise with it. I stir and roll onto my stomach, pulling the blankets over my head. It's cold but it's warm in bed and I was having a good dream, do I have to wake up?

I groan and crack open an eye. It's slightly swollen and my face feels bloated. I take a peek at the outside world from under my duvet before reaching out a hand on a mission to find my phone. I tap the ground until I find it then retreat, instantly curling up comfortably in bed.

I turn on the screen to find it is almost afternoon. I also have a new message from Hoseok. My puffy eyes widen and I lurch out of bed. I sit up, the sleep suddenly flinging off my face.

I swipe the screen and check the message, feeling somewhat nervous and anxious. It reads neatly in correct spelling and grammar:

'Good morning, it's Hoseok. Did you sleep well?'

I hold my breath as my stomach does a gymnastics routine, and start typing a reply. I write a few lines then decide to rephrase it. I end up using the backspace more than any other key, trying different words before rewriting it altogether. After several attempts I end up with a generic, predictable reply:

'Good morning. I'm sorry for the late reply. I slept well, how about you?'

I decide not to mention crying, dreaming about him or the fact that I had just woken up.

I stare at it for a moment and wonder whether it's okay or too plain. 'If I use shorthand will I come off as immature? Should greet him with his name? Do I introduce myself too-- no, that'd be stupid since he knows it's me. Wait he did mean this for me, right? Should I add exclamation points or not, or maybe just one to make it sound more exciting? Should I add emojis or a text smiley face or just leave it?' I pout and begin considering redoing it all over again or sending it at all.

After a few more drafts and edits, I come up with the final message:

'Good morning! I'm sorry for the late reply. I slept well, how about you?'

I grumble. It took me at least five minutes to add one exclamation mark. I feel somewhat irritated with myself and decide that it will just have to do. I hold my breath and hit send. I stare at my screen anxiously. There's an adrenaline in my chest. It takes me a moment to remind myself that he probably won't reply straight away. I don't remember the last time it took this much effort to send someone a text message and honestly I'm already quite exhausted.

I look around the room. Sunlight already fills every nook and cranny, caressing the curves and edges of every object. I heave myself out of bed and sluggishly make my way to the kitchen with my phone at hand.

I begin to wonder what to do for the day over a bowl of cereal. Gradually I become more and more anxious to the silence of my phone which lays screen pointing up at me. I sigh as my face curls and I swallow my mouthful of cornflakes. I hesitantly pick up the device and glare at the black face. I groan and slouch into my seat, curling into my arms.

“Why won’t you reply!” I whinge to the phone.

I carefully and meticulously crunch on the rest of my cereal as to not miss the subtle chime of my phone. None comes.

I grumble as the leftover cereal becomes soggy and crushed by the endless swishing of my spoon. ‘Should I just call him?’ I think to myself. For a moment I convince myself otherwise but later give in to the temptation and impatience. I pick up my phone then almost fall backwards when it begins to ring.

I frantically fumble and sit back up. My eyes widen and I almost choke when I read the contact.

“H-Hoseok!” I blurt immediately when the phone hits my ear.

He sounds just as alarmed as me and asks if he called at the wrong time and whether he should call later.

“No, no!” I hastily assure him, “It’s okay.”

I can hear him chuckle and I press the device closer to my ear, hoping it’d bring him closer to me. There’s a short pause, a peaceful silence. “Are you free today?” I ask unintentionally. My eyes widen as I realise what I’d done and almost take it back.

“Yeah,” he replies coolly, cutting into my chaos.

I open and shut my mouth like a goldfish, flabbergasted. “Okay!” I exclaim far too loudly. My voice echoes around the dorm. I instantly hunch over and cover my mouth, embarrassed to be so obvious. I comb my fingers through my hair.

“I mean, okay, okay,” I say in a calmer tone. I bite my lip and massage my temples, ‘what’s wrong with me?’

“Is there somewhere you want to go?” he asks, laughing softly.

“Yes!”

‘Ah, I did it again.’

“I mean yeah,”—I grumble to myself— “I-I mean if you want, and like it could help jog your memory and stuff—” I begin to ramble reasons and excuses out of nervousness. I just miss him so much. I clench my phone and swallow as my heart squeezes.

 “Okay,” he replies simply.

“Okay,” I reply happily, “Same place, same ti—oh” I cover my mouth. My chest drops, ‘He doesn’t know.’ The line falls silent and I instantly feel alone. My heart stops fluttering and begins to sink into my stomach,

“That’s okay,” he says in a soothing low voice, “How about I pick you up in two hours?”

I press my lips together to stop a cry, and nod. “Yeah,  sure.”