'In this darkness, I live.
Here, I'll die.
The coldness of your absence filled the presence of nothingness.
My heart who ached, who called for your love, now shredded, torn to pieces.
You cried for him, I cried for you.
When you're cold, I burn for you.'
I re-read the words written in the piece of paper I found under my desk. The handwriting was scrawny, like it was written absentmindedly. I feel like the words could be lyrics of a song or parts of a poem, but it felt incomplete.
While my professor was busy in front of the class, talking about asymptotes, I decided to amuse myself by writing the next verse.
----
'I felt your heat, so bright, this fire,
But heart can't choose to whom it falls.
You give, he takes, and I enjoy pain,
I'm Icarus, he's my sun, and you're my wings who fell with me.'
I felt myself smile as I read the lines that were added to the scratch paper that I forgot to throw last time in class. Whoever found it thought it's cool to add words to others' songs. Whoever she is, though - and I know it's a her cause she answered my lyrics in a female's perspective - she's pretty good.
Hmm... I wonder if she'd reply again if I write another line to my song?
I was about to take out my pen and write again when the classroom door opened and my English professor entered. I stopped what I was about to do and kept the scratch paper under the table again. I think I'd do it after class.
"Good morning, class," Mr. Park greeted us. "So for today, we'll be having a surprise quiz," he announced.
Everybody in the room groaned in unison, except for me. My mind was still on that piece of paper under my desk, my hand itching to write some words on it.
"Pst, Namjoon," I heard Hoseok called from my left side. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows up.
"What?" I asked.
"Please let me copy your answers later." He grinned as if thinking that playing cute will get him what he wants.
"Fine," I said. This was always the case so I'm kind of used to it.
Yhee exam began and I automatically wrote the answers to the questions. All the while, my brain mixed and matched words that should used in my lyrics later.
---
'I took a swig in this bottle of tears, my head swinging from all these fears.
I fear you'll leave, disappear forever,
If I try to make you see reason.
And so, I hid, and became your shadow.
I became the momentum that pushed you forward.
And though it hurts, I carried on,
Just to be sure I'll never lose you.'
The words that followed my contribution to this song plucked something in my heart. I felt respect and admiration towards the guy who wrote this. I could feel the emotions he put behind his words, all the thoughts he bottled inside each lines. And so, enjoying this little game I'm playing with Mr. Stranger, I wrote my verse for this song.
---
A few months had passed and I still didn't know who I am talking to. Our song was complete, and we've also written many more compositions. We've written poems, rap lyrics, song lyrics... and yet, we still haven't really talked. Our pen conversation would just go with finishing each other's parts, and when the song is done, the last to write would just put a 'Nice work!' or 'great lyrics' or a smiley at the end of the sheet.
Also, these past months that I've been exchanging craft with him, I grew to respect him more and more. I also feel curious with his identity. Every day I go to this room, felt excited going to my seat so I could check if he was still playing this little game.
He always have, though. Until today.
When I reached for the piece of neatly folded paper under my desk, instead of the usual lyrics that we wrote, all I saw was some words that were definitely not for a song. It simply said:
School garden, 5 pm. Near the rose bushes.
I felt my heart jump with excitement. Does this mean he wants to see me, too?
My mind went to our last compositions and how, from broken hearted songs, we began to wrote courting songs and love songs. I giggled at the thought that it could really be us flirting with the use of songs.
I couldn't keep the smile that was on my face the whole day. I kept on looking at my watching, counting the seconds 'til it's 5pm. All the while, I could often feel like tons of butterflies have been freed in my stomach.
When 4:55 came and my professor wad beginning to wrap her lesson, I felt my palms sweat with excitement. My toe tapped on the floor, my fingers drumming on my desk.
As soon as the term 'class dismissed' was said, I was already on my feet, placing my notebook and pen hastily on my bag.
I was about to leave the room when my professor called me and asked me to help her bring her things back at the faculty room. Not allowed to say 'no', I just nodded and did what she asked me to do.
The faculty room was five minutes away from our room, so it took me fifteen minutes before I could reach the doors of the building. I looked at my watch and saw that it's already 5:20.
Cursing under my breath at the delay, I ran fast towards the school garden. I could feel the excitement oozing through my body as I ran, imagining how this other composer looked like. But when I reached the garden, the place was empty.
Disappointment washed over me as I scanned the place.
He wasn't here.
I still haven't meey him.
While I wallow in my disappointment, a student walked passed me. A little desperate, I called for him.
"Uhm, excuse me but, would you know if there's a guy who stood behind the roses?" I asked.
He nodded slowly, his gaze resting for a bit beside the bushes.
"Yes, there is. In fact, he left the place about five minutes ago. I think I saw him rode a cab."
Sighing heavily at this, my mind suddenly played the scene when I first saw his lyrics. Our professor was talking about asymptotes at that time.
Maybe, that guy and I are like asymptotes. We were destined to reach and grew closer and closer to one another, but we will never even meet each other.
