『 °˖✧ ¢σмρℓєтє∂ ✧˖° 』
"Why do you try to befriend that voiceless kid?"
"Don't go near him, he doesn't even talk."
「 In which Han Jisung approaches the Australian student who never speaks.」
___________________
boy x boy . contains profanity . no smut...
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I turned 12.
We weren't in the city for two years. We hadn't met for two years.
And for two years, you lived in my heart. The thoughts of you, the memories of your smile, the sound of your bubbly laughter. But it was never enough. It was never as fulfilling as having you next to me.
You were sunshine, the brightness radiating every inch of me. You were something significant, something irreplaceable. You were mytreasure, and I yearned to see you again.
Ever since dad convinced mum that my sister had run away, she quit her job so she could spend all her hours by my side, to make sure I'll stay.
If only my real mother had done that.
But she hadn't, she breathed her last when I was born, leaving dad behind to become the maniac he is,
obsessing over me
Because I'm the only thing left of her.
Once we returned to the city, I started middle school. I was allowed to walk alone.
Thursday. My first Thursday at the new school. I skipped. I took a little detour and let the memories in my heart take over each step of mine.
It lead me to you.
When my dead eyes spotted your still petite frame seated on the grass where the bench used to be, a subtle breeze swept through. Your hair was a fluffy mess, dyed a similar shade of pink to what I remember it used to be. You had grown so beautifully, yet you did not lose one bit of the whiff of heaven that you had always carried; the surrealistic beauty, something otherworldly. With the sound of fallen leaves, the remnants of autumn, rustling, my heart hammered in my chest, contrary to my slowing footsteps.
Was it really you?
Did you wait there everyday, Lix?
For two entire years, did you wish to see your only one just once more? To hold me like I wanted to hold you, to be consumed in each other's very presence, with our scents mingling, our hearts content, and minds connected; did you yearn for all that, too?
The moment you shifted your attention to the left, your eyes landing right on mine, my questions were answered, my doubts proven right.
Eyes wide open, a glassy layer of tears forming, you scrambled to your feet and stumbled forward. There was disbelief, with a mixture of relief and the overwhelming feelings of missing a special someone.
I smiled weakly. And that was permission for your little footsteps to rush forward and crash right into my arms. You were warm, the warmth I had needed to ease the coldness in my heart, and you were real, not just a figment of my memories anymore.
You were still my precious Felix.
°˖✧*.☽ .*✧˖°
Over the course of middle school, I had made another friend.
Bang Chan.
But no matter what, I would always turn down his offer to hang out after school. Because that was my time to meet you. You would always wait, sometimes pacing around, kicking white pebbles that were astray on the greenery, or some times seated on the damp grass.
Today, you were draped in an overly large rouge sweater, the front hem tucked into your denim shorts. I engulfed you in my arms, and you melted right there, as if it was where you truly belonged. Then we sat by the bushes. You told me about your days.
You told me that once you turn 15, you would attend high school, that homeschooling would end. Back then it didn't cross my mind, but during the following days, the idea conflicted me, with a burning sense of apprehension that once you get out there, that once you face the world, you would toss me away.
And that I would cease to be your only one.
Together, you and I made crowns out of wildflowers. I was not very good at it, not gentle with my touch, but you helped me. With your preciously small hands, you taught me how to be gentle with the flowers, the flowers that were as delicate as you, so frail and breakable.
That day, you looked beautiful.
At the time, I didn't realise that seeing you dressed in vibrant shades of different colours everyday had cast a spell over my very own closet, the blacks and greys soon diversifying into blues, reds, and yellows.
It was a natural allusion to what you meant to me; you, a bright and colourful existence, brimming with life and so full of happiness, gradually dyed my monochrome world into colours, in the form of feelings I had never felt. Only that I didn't know back then that
those 'feelings I had never felt' would someday cross the lines.
