A Spur-of-the-Moment <3 <3 <3

<<Let's share a CUPCAKE>>

In the middle of the class, which was utterly even more boring Values Education, I try to do some gravitational rotation with my head to actually look at where Sehun was sitting at.

And yeah, I found him, alright. On the last row, last seat, by the window.

And yeah, he was totally looking at me.

He gave me a smirk, and I was just so embarassed, I turned away and looked down at my notebook.

Oh my God. Did you really have to do that?

By free period, Annie and I went out of the room to go to the bathroom.

And then Krystal and her gang was there.

And she was eyeing on us.

I really did not care.

We quickly left and went back to the classroom.

He was there.

There were few people in the room.

And I tried not to eye on him like I always get googly-eyed over him.

I was leafing through the pages of the textbook, and the next thing I knew, he took a seat in front of me. He turned to me, and was looking at me.

“Hey, classmate,’ he said.

Annie then stood, and we looked at her as she said, “I need to go to the uhm...bathroom. Yet again,” she smiled, and when she passed behind Sehun she was giving me the thumbs up.

Sehun transferred to Annie’s seat.

“Did you really want to transfer on purpose?” I asked him, pretending to be busy with the book  I was holding.

“No. Dad wanted me to transfer,” he said.

He was tapping on the desk, making some sort of rhythm.

“Oh. And why is that?”

“He said I needed to make new friends,” he told me.

“Makes sense,” I said. “So is that why you’re making friends with me now?”

He looks at me like I’m the most stupid person in the world.

“No,” he smiled. “I wanted to be friends with you.”

I was trying not to, but he really made me smile.

“And for that,” he pulled something from the pocket of his blazer, “..let’s share a cupcake.”

A cupcake.

“My nana made this,” he explained, carefully opening the pack. And then he pulled it apart in half, and gave one side to me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.”

He never looked like the cheerful type, and when he talks he looks like he was bored, but I do know he likes talking to me, because I often catch him making that almost-invisible half-smile as we’d talk.

It’s priceless. His smile.

I munch on the spongy cupcake. And then there was butter inside.

And it was heavenly.

He hands me his hanky.

His hand-ker-chief.

“I have mine,” I say, as I reach for it on my side pockets.

I wipe my face, and he wipes his lips.

“That was really good,” I said.

“I’ll give you some when she makes me pastries.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“I want to,” he says. Like that. Flat, blank. But he means it.

We see our classmates come in gradually, so he tells me, “Later.”

I just nod, as he walks past me.