Raw Line| SVT

17

"Are you okay?"

I flinch, being woken up from my day-dreaming by a gentle voice beside me. I shake my head lightly as if getting rid of all the persistent thoughts that have been haunting me for the past few days.

I turn my head towards Minho and give him one of my best fake smiles. He looked genuinely worried which made me feel even worse because I didn't want to let my problems affect my encounters with him.

It's been a couple of days since I overheard the conversation in the living room of Joshua's house but time didn't make it any better. Maybe that was simply the way I was and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't change it. I have spent time in the library every single day because this place has always made me feel at ease somehow. But not now. And it was frustrating.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I say.

Minho asked me if we could meet for a bit today, saying that he wanted to show me his draft and I agreed, because I thought spending time with him would make me feel better. But it's more like trying to run away from something that will keep haunting me nevertheless.

"Are you sure?" he insists and I nod, focusing my attention back on the sketch on the screen of his laptop.

His project was slowly but surely coming to life and he seemed really excited about every single step. Of course, his attempt to transpose the pencil work on the screen of his laptop wasn't perfect, but it wasn't as bad as I would have expected it to be. He was willed to learn and that was what made me enjoy helping him the most.

"You should thin out those lines," I say, pointing to a few lines that were part of the hood of the car.

He nods and takes notes. I watch him a little amused, but choose not to make any comment.

"Can I ask you something?" he says, still focused on his little notebook.

I look at him surprised for a second before moving my gaze back to the digital sketch.

"Sure," I say.

"Why are you so patient with me?" he asks, taking a break from his notes. "You look like somebody who is... really hard on themselves. So why are you so patient and understanding with... the others...?"

I feel a pang of something that I can't describe. I never asked myself this question, even though, hearing it out loud now, it feels like an obvious thing to wonder. And deep down, I probably know the answer. But maybe if I pretend that I don't, it won't exist.

"We're always harder on ourselves than on the ones surrounding us," I shrug.

It's not a lie. But I know it probably isn't the answer that he wanted to hear.

I look him in the eye for a second and I could instantly sense that he knew I wasn't being genuine. And it made me feel bad once again.

"I know how it feels like when people don't take their time with you," I say and focus on the sketch again.

He hesitates for a few moments, as if wanting to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he changes the topic, asking me more about what he should change at his sketch. Maybe he sensed that I didn't want to talk about what he asked me and decided not to push it. I was thankful.

*

As soon as I enter the house, followed by my sister, I hear loud chatter coming from the living room, signaling that we had guests, as usual. We look at each other before stepping towards the room in cause in order to see what was going on. The first thing that I see is Seungcheol looking at somebody across the room with the deadliest expression I have ever seen anybody wearing. Which, to be honest, was scary, since he has always been nothing but nice to me... kind of.