Part: Chapter Three: Blue
Previous Parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two
Pairing: Donghae / Eunhyuk
Rating: PG-13 (sensuality)
Word Count: 4,226
Synopsis: Colors have always been there in our relationship...from the day I met you. If I were to tell our story, I’d do it with a canvas and paint; vibrant colors of every shade and hue.
Next Update: No specific date.
BOY, did I have a hard time writing this. I'm so late because of it... ;_; I am very sorry!!! Many thanks go to my best friend and beta tvxqsocks for all her patient support and help editing and getting rid of my Polychromatic Us!writer's block. Thank you! <3 ILY! ^^
Today I went down to the beach at night, because there is a beautiful full moon here in Brazil...and I wrote "Super Junior" in huuuuuuuuge letters, and then dotted the i with a heart and wrote "haehyuk" in Korean in it. :D
I'm a Cyworld noob~ D:
Okay! Please read and enjoy! ^ ^ /
The sky outside my window is a perfect shade of blue, cloudless and vast. It's so clear and pretty that it feels like I'm looking at a painting inside of a dream. I feel like going to the park and lying on the grass and simply enjoying the weather, but I'm stuck in my room staring at my cellphone, caught in a downward spiral of indecision and indecisiveness.
It's been a week since I took you to my home for my birthday, and I haven't seen you outside of classes since then. Even inside of class, we don't talk, and it's confusing me and all of our friends. Usually I would gravitate towards you after practice, or you would seek me out, and one way or another we would end up spending more time together. But now it feels like there's a wall of unspoken reasons keeping us apart.
Simply put, we're avoiding each other.
It's been hours since I've woken up, and because it's the weekend, I don't have anything to do. I've gone through my normal routine, uncharacteristically skipped a meal, and have thought of nothing else but doing something - namely calling you - to put an end to this.
I select your number again and stare moodily at it. I don't want to avoid you - I want to be with you. I wish I had a flower to pick the petals from, alternating between deciding to call you and not call you, so that somehow the decision could be made for me. But even if I did that, and landed on not calling you, I wouldn't settle for it.
Actually, I know what I want to do. It's just doing it that is proving so difficult for me.
It's just a button that I have to press. One press of a button, and I'd call you, and you would probably pick up. I could hear your voice, and talk with you again. I can imagine a thousand things that I want to say, one after another, for years. I sigh dejectedly. I want you to know that I like you...I just don't have the confidence to tell you. If I confess to you, and you don't like me, it will be awkward for both of us, and will almost definitely make it impossible to be friends.
Now that I'm experiencing what it's like when you're absent from my life, I don't, I don't, I don't want that to happen.
But if I don't say anything, I feel like I'm risking us just drifting apart. What happened that day wasn't even a big deal. It wasn't like you kissed me. I blush, and bite my lip so hard that it hurts, and move my thumb over the button to call you. Nothing happened. I count to three twice and then press call. I can feel my cheeks growing hotter before you've even picked up, and when you do, my heart starts hammering.
"Hyukjae." Your tone is surprised. Maybe even a little bit pleased.
"Hi," I say breathlessly. "Good time?"
I close my eyes, defeated. Always, you say.
"When you say that, I forget why I called." I laugh sadly. "Honestly..."
"What did you want to say?"
"I was going to ask why it feels like I haven't seen you at all."
"I'm sorry," you say. "I know it's been distant."
"Why has it been?"
I turn my head away and cough in the long silence that follows my question. "Did I do something?"
"No!" you say quickly. "It wasn't you."
"'Wasn't'? So can we go back to normal now?"
"To normal?" You pause. "Who knows? Anyway, I miss you. I was going to call you. Where are you?"
"In my room." You miss me after a week. And if I miss you after a week, and I like you, does that mean that you like me? I sigh inwardly. Not necessarily. After all, friends miss each other too.
"What are you doing in your room? It's beautiful. You should come outside."
"Where are you?" I look out of the window again.
"Out," you say cutely.
"No, but I can be."
"Why?" I bite my lip, anticipating your answer.
"For you, of course." The answer that I wanted to hear. "Just say that you'll meet me."
"Hey," I say softly, unable to stop myself. "Why do you treat me like this? So nicely."
"Aren't I nice to everyone?"
"Yes, but...do you treat everyone like this?"
"Will you come out and meet me?"
"Have you eaten anything?"
"What's the matter with you? It's like three o'clock." You sigh. "Let's go eat, then."
"Okay." I sit up and smile at the sky. "Where?"
"Let's decide later. Come meet me first."
I laugh, and you tell me where to meet you. You say goodbye and hang up, forcing me to get a move on. I wash my face again and change into a different set of clothes, and then I grab my wallet and the key to my dorm and leave. So easy, once I called you, to reestablish a connection with you.
When I see you, my heart feels like it's going to stop, and I take a second to linger a distance away and just look at you.
Why do I feel so starved? As if I hadn't seen you at all.
I walk towards you, and you spot me and meet me halfway, wearing a smile that me shows more genuinely than any words could that you're happy to see me. I'm sure that the same feeling is expressed in my own irrepressible smile.
"Hi," you say, something about your voice striking me as sweet. "Long time no see, it feels like."
"Yeah. Did you wait long?"
You shake your head. I want to touch you, to hold your hand, to hug you, even to kiss you. I wish that I had the freedom to express myself like that, but I absolutely, truly, positively don't. If only, if only, if only, I think.
You lead me to a café that you like, and after wondering for a moment over how quickly you've adapted to this city and found favorites, and looking over the menu for far too long, we order flavored bubble tea, and I order a sandwich. You aren't really hungry, you say, so you don't order anything else.
We sit down at a table, and you apologize for being so distant. I tell you that it isn't your fault, and that I didn't do anything to make it better over the week either.
"But," you say, leaning your chin into your hands on the table and pouting, "you called me."
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I'm really happy that you picked up...I thought you might not have."
"No, I...I wanted to talk to you."
"That's..." You wave your hand, as if searching for words. "It's not important. Just to talk about stuff, you know? About nothing."
"I like talking to you."
"God, me too! I missed talking...we just click, don't we? I like having a friend like that, who understands me."
"I see." I laugh, blushing at my response, but fortunately one of the employees brings what we ordered to our table, and you don't seem to notice. I understand you less than you think - about normal stuff, stuff I might talk about with anyone, I do understand you well - but when it comes to knowing how you feel about me...
"Eat," you say. "Stop spacing out."
"Sorry." I let my eyes fall to my sandwich and dig in. I'm really hungry. I knew that it was stupid to not eat anything earlier, but I wasn't in the mood to eat. Now I'm ravenous - too hungry to feel self conscious eating in front of you, thankfully. Sometimes I get the feeling that you're watching me eat, but I don't want you to notice me noticing you, so I don't look up.
"Feel better?" you ask as I finish.
"Good." You smile and bite your straw. "You should eat properly."
"I know." I pick up my tea and sip it.
"Does this ever make you wonder what you'll lose?" you ask musingly, stirring your tea around and trying to capture the tapioca pearls with your straw. "If we debut and become famous."
"Just sitting in public, and talking...and eating...just being out in public, with no one noticing you."
"I hadn't thought about it." I rest my chin in my palm. "But...with everything you gain, you always lose something."
"You think it's worth it?
I shrug. "It's what I want. Isn't it what you want too? To be a singer?"
You nod. "But sometimes, I wonder what a normal adult life would be like."
"Like our parents' lives."
"Think, though - that kind of life isn't something that we'll ever experience for ourselves if we become idols. We won't have the privacy and anonymity to play with. The youngest years of our adult lives will be spent under a critical eye..."
"But it's my dream." I smile hesitantly. "This is what I really want to do."
"Yeah. It's a dream."
"Mm." You nod. "Shall we go?"
"Was there somewhere you wanted to go to?"
"Mmm...I was thinking it was a really nice day, and I wanted to go to a park." I pause and laugh. "I didn't, though."
"We can go now! There won't be that many people there anymore. It's kind of late in the afternoon, so it's not really the popular time..."
"Would that be okay?"
"Yeah! I want to go too."
"Okay, let's go!" I stand up and start walking, and you catch up with me and talk about singing as we walk there. It's a short walk, but there isn't a moment of silence as we talk about whatever comes to mind, switching through subjects as easily as water slips through our fingers.
"It's so empty," I say as we walk a little further into the park from one of the main entrances. "And it's such a nice day!"
"But you were indoors, too. And it is a big park." You skip ahead and start walking up a hill towards a botanical display. This kind of park isn't just for people to come and lie in the sun and play with their children. It's almost geared for tourism. It has traditional buildings and displays of flowers, meticulously maintained gardens, and paths that lead to more secluded areas, all worked into one beautiful sprawling place.
It's on one of those paths that I follow you, until we reach a practically deserted part of the park and you look back, as if remember that I'm here. It's quiet, and still, and beautiful here. Throughout not just this part of the park, but all of it, flowering trees are in full bloom.
"You like this?" you ask, walking backwards and smiling at me until I catch up with you. "Nature, I mean."
"Yeah, but I think I like cities more. There's more to do. And I'm used to them, so..." I shrug. "Maybe I wouldn't say that if there weren't parks."
"I want to...go to the ocean." Your smile widens. "I haven't been in a while."
"Maybe during summer break..."
"We should all go together!" You blink as if you've said something wrong, or you've just remembered something or had a sudden idea. "We should go together."
"Never mind." You wave your hand. "When it's summer, we can talk about it, after all. It's not for a while still."
"Okay..." I wonder what you meant by taking out the all in we should go together.
"It's fun," you say, swatting playfully at branches as we walk. "It's always fun with you."
"I don't think that I'm very fun."
"I think you are. All of your friends do, too."
"Oh?" I can't help but smile. "That's nice to know."
"I think that...you're the best thing that's happened to me since I came here."
I blush. "Well, you introduced yourself. You made it happen."
"Aren't you glad that I did?"
"Absolutely" is the answer that escapes my lips. I want to say more. I want you tell you how I really feel so badly, but I'm too afraid to take the risk. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat faster with nervousness.
"I'm happy that you called me."
Your hand brushes mine as you pass me, making my heart leap. I thought for a second that you were going to hold my hand. I want to hold your hand so badly that it hurts.
"Actually, it is important."
"What is?" I put my hand in my pocket to get rid of the impression that yours left on it.
"The thing I wanted to talk about."
"Oh," I say, giving you my attention. "Okay."
"Listen..." you come to a stop and look at me hesitantly. You open your mouth a few times, and then sigh with frustration and run your hand through your hair. You take a step towards me and then take a short breath and speak in a rushed, exasperated tone.
"I like you." My heart skips a beat. "You're my best friend."
My heart sinks a little, and I smile weakly and look at the ground. It would be nice for someone else, I think, to hear that. I know it's my own fault that I feel so let down and disappointed. You're my best friend. It should be all I want, but I want so much more. I thought your hesitation might have meant that you would tell me that you want to be more than friends.
I have to force myself to look up at you.
"I really like you."
"Like me how?" I ask, a broken, short laugh escaping with my words. I can't help myself but to ask. It hurts so much that I can't take it anymore. I need to know how you feel.
You bite your lip for half a second, and as you open your mouth to answer me, my pent up feelings and pain force themselves to the surface, and I say more.
"Because I don't like you as a friend. I like you, you know? I like you so much that it hurts."
In the silence after my words, I blush with embarrassment. I can't look at you anymore - not even to see what kind of expression you're wearing. Why won't you say anything? Why couldn't I have been happy with best friends and gone on a little longer without knowing?
You won't say anything, I realize. You don't feel the same. Even though it's the last thing I want to do at a moment like this, I can't help it: I'm crying. I turn away, trying to hide it, and then I realize that I shouldn't be here at all anymore. So I take a step backwards, prepared to walk - or run - away.
"Sorry," I say hollowly. "I'll leave first."
You grab my arm and jerk me back. My heart leaps in disbelief as you lean in and kiss me, holding onto both of my arms with an increasingly gentle grip. All of my thoughts of leaving, of confusion, of being rejected, are gone, replaced by euphoria. I didn't know that lips felt like this, or that kissing inspired such a sense of intimacy with the other person. It's sweet and unique.
Your lips slowly leave mine, and I remember to breathe. At some point I had closed my eyes without realizing it, and I open them now to find you smiling at me, your face so close for an instant that I could have counted your eyelashes. I smile shyly, too dazed - too stunned - to really smile at you with as much emotion as I'm feeling yet.
"Okay?" You brush my tears off of my cheeks and then put your hands on my shoulders. "I like you like that too."
I feel like I should say something, but I'm in too much shock to. You start laughing at my expression and pull me closer, and I hug you. For the first time, I want you to feel my heart beating. You fit perfectly in my arms; I fit perfectly in yours. I know that later I'll really understand how my world has just changed, but for now I don't want to think. For now it's enough to feel exactly in the present.
"I thought you liked me...I thought that you couldn't be this shy with everyone...and so I tried telling you without telling you," you say quietly. "And then I tried telling you, and couldn't. Your birthday..."
"So that's..." my voice is so quiet that if we were any further apart, you wouldn't be able to hear. "That's what that was..."
"I didn't want to ruin your birthday if I was wrong." You laugh quietly. "Sorry."
"Since the beginning."
"All this time?"
"Couldn't you tell?"
You let go of me and look at me with one raised eyebrow. "Who else flirts with you?"
"F-Flirts?" I stammer, blushing. "No one!"
"I'm the only one, right?"
"No one else...talks to me like you do."
"That's good." You sit down on a low stone wall and pat the space next to you, inviting me to sit next to you. "I'd be upset if someone else was..."
"I don't like anyone else," I say as I sit beside you. If I was going to calm down and stop blushing, now it's really impossible. "J-...just you."
You kiss my cheek quickly, and I surprise myself and you by laughing lightly.
"What?" You smile at me, leaning forward so that you would be in my field of vision even if I weren't looking directly at you. But I am, and my smile has turned into a grin.
"I'm just really happy."
"Me too." You brush my bangs away from my eyes and then stroke my face, as if brushing something away. But I know that there isn't anything there. You're just touching me. "Can I call you my boyfriend?"
"When talking to whom?" I don't even try to keep my face from showing how ecstatic I am - and why should I? I want you to know.
"You can call me yours too."
We laugh. I almost feel dizzy, and I dig one of my fingernails into my palm to check if I'm dreaming. You kissed me, and confessed to me, and now you've asked me to be your boyfriend.
"To whom..." you wonder quietly, leaning back on your hands and looking up at the fragments of the sky through the leaves. "I guess we can't tell anyone, huh. I mean...no one."
I shake my head. "No one can know."
"That's going to be hard."
I look at you, at the way you're biting your lip as you always do, and your small frown as you think. The way the wind lightly ruffles your hair, and the way your neck stretches as you tilt your head back, and think that you, who are already one of the best friends, want to be my boyfriend. I think that it's worth it to give it at least a chance, with all of the effort that we can give, even though it will be difficult.
"But we don't have a choice, right?" You look at me and smile.
"So we don't." I laugh. "I wasn't expecting anything else, anyway. I mean...I don't want people to know. It wouldn't be..."
"Comfortable," you say. "Even if we weren't both boys...it would be weird, right?"
"I really want to be with you. I don't like lying, or being sneaky...and I'm not good at it...but it's not like we're hiding something bad. Or that we're doing it for a bad reason."
"Right...it's just for our own sakes...and everyone's sakes, really. It's just to have things be quiet and simple."
"But it's not just not telling anyone..." You sigh. "We can't give it away by our behavior."
"Like now." I blush.
"Yeah, like now. People know we're really good friends. It's okay if they know we're best friends. In fact, it's good if they do...they just can't think that we're anything more than best friends."
"I wonder what happens if..." I pause and consider the chances. "You know, we don't debut together. How we'd see each other."
"We can't do anything about that." You sigh again. "But even if we do...we won't have time alone together. Not really, you know? Maybe moments, maybe even hours...but we wouldn't really be alone - like in a dorm, we can't really be alone..."
"I know." I grimace. "But it'd be worse if we don't debut together."
"In that case, only moments..." You look at me seriously. "Can you do that?"
I shrug. "We can still talk."
"I want to do more than talk," you whine. "But I can do it! I mean, I think I'd be okay if that's what it came to."
"It's okay with me."
"You'd miss me, wouldn't you?"
I blush, and you smile and nod. "Yeah, I know."
"I hope we debut together," I say quietly. "Wouldn't it be fun?"
"It'd be amazing!"
"We just have to hope for it, then..."
"Mhmm!" You stand up and pull me up by my hand. "C'mon, let's walk. There's no one here today."
"Okay." Telling myself to not be so shy, I hold your hand as we walk. At first we don't say anything, but then we start talking again - about nothing in particular. Just conversation, as we've always had. The only difference is that my hand is in yours, and maybe some shift towards closeness that wasn't there before.
But then I remember something that, feeling as happy as I am now, I tell you without thinking that it might be embarrassing.
"That was my first kiss."
"How do you know?"
"I just know."
"Anyway, I wanted it to be with you."
"Why are you so cute?" You laugh. "This is why I like you!"
"I'm cute?" I blush.
"Yes you are!" You laugh again and then make an amendment to your previous statement. "One of the reasons I like you. I don't mind saying it, that you're cute. You've always liked me, haven't you?"
"Yeah...since before I met you...actually."
"So why did we take so long?"
"I don't know." I laugh. "I guess because be both weren't really sure?"
"I guess so..." You come to a stop and look at your cellphone to check the time, making me realize that it's getting darker. We're still holding hands, and I can't stop smiling because of it. Because of you. "Want to go have fun and eat and then head home before curfew?"
"Yeah...What time is it?"
"It's past six already."
"Already?" I blink. "That doesn't seem right."
You shrug, smiling. "Time flies."
"What if I hadn't called you? What if you hadn't picked up?"
"Then we wouldn't be like this." You smile and squeeze my hand. "Not yet, anyway. Someway or another, we'd get here, I think."
You pull me away from the path and down a slope towards a small garden. But we don't stop at the garden, as I thought we might, to admire it. It's hard to see anyway, as the light is quickly dimming. Soon the light and the sky will be the same soft shade of blue. You lead me into a small grove of trees and hug me, and for a second, I think you're older than me for some reason.
Minutes go by, but I don't count them. I'm just perfectly content to hug you and be hugged by you here, only the second time since we've become people who openly like each other. I'll never get tired of this, I think. I'll always want to be hugged by not just someone like you, but by you exactly.
You let go of me just a little bit, and whisper for now right before you kiss me. It gives me butterflies and an odd, warm sensation at the same time. The feel of your lips is so raw and warm and real, contrasting with the quickly cooling air around us, and before I'm used to it, it's over again.
"For later?" you ask, waiting for my invitation. I can't say anything, so I just meet you halfway and kiss you again. I feel almost giddy, beside myself with happiness, yet somehow quieted with shyness. How long have I wanted to kiss you? How long have I wanted to hold hands with you? How suddenly has this happened, and how lucky am I?
Unbelievably lucky to be liked by you.
"Okay..." you sigh and take my hand again. "Let's go."
As we near the exit to the park and the crowded streets of Seoul, you casually let go of my hand. And so, I think, begins a new age of secrecy for both of us
[Next Part] Chapter Four: Red