Room 274

Chapter Seventeen

I sat perched on the edge of my bed, my gaze fixed on Jisung as he meticulously folded his clothes and packed his suitcase. The room was alive with the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional sound of items being placed carefully into the bag. Halloween break was just around the corner, and excitement tingled in the air, but there was also a sense of melancholy as we prepared to part ways for a short while.

Jisung moved with an effortless grace, his movements fluid and purposeful. His determination was evident in the way he folded each shirt with precision, his brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but admire his dedication, even in something as mundane as packing. As I watched him, memories flooded my mind—of all the adventures we'd shared, the laughter we'd echoed through the halls, and the bond we'd forged over countless late-night conversations. Jisung wasn't just a friend; he was family, a constant presence in my life that I cherished more than words could express.

But now, as he packed for the break, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that crept into my heart. It wasn't just about being apart for a few days; it was the thought of not having his infectious laughter and unwavering support by my side.

"Hey, Chenle," Jisung's voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. He turned to me, a warm smile lighting up his face. "Are you all packed?"

As Jisung's face fell slightly at my decision to stay on campus for Halloween, I couldn't help but notice the flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a casual remark.

"It's a shame you'll be here alone," he said, his tone light but tinged with concern. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Internally, my heart somersaulted at the thought of spending Halloween alone with Jisung elsewhere. I had debated whether to join him on the break, but the opportunity to have some quiet time on campus seemed appealing, even if it meant missing out on the festivities.

"I'll be fine," I replied, mustering a smile. "I could use some time to catch up on studying anyway."

But beneath my composed facade, a whirlwind of emotions raged within me. Being alone on Halloween wasn't what I truly wanted, but I couldn't bring myself to admit the real reason behind my decision—to be close to Jisung, even if it was just in proximity.

As Jisung finished zipping up his duffel bag, he turned to find me still perched on my bed, my gaze fixed on him. With a small smile, he approached me, a book in his hands. "Hey, Chenle," he said softly, extending the book toward me. "I thought you might enjoy this. It's one of my favourites."

My heart skipped a beat as I accepted the book, my fingers brushing against his briefly. "Looking for Alaska," I read the title aloud, my voice barely above a whisper. I glanced up at Jisung, a warmth spreading through me at the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

"Thank you, Jisung," I said sincerely, meeting his gaze. "I've heard great things about this book."

Jisung's smile widened, a hint of satisfaction glinting in his eyes. "I hope you like it," he replied, his voice gentle. "It's a good read for when you want to escape for a while."

As he spoke, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude toward him, tinged with a hint of longing. His kindness was like a beacon in the darkness, a reminder of our bond and the depth of my feelings for him.

"Take care, Chenle," Jisung said, his tone soft yet filled with warmth. "I'll see you after the break."

As Jisung turned to leave, a sudden surge of emotion overwhelmed me. Without thinking, I stood up from my bed and closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace. At first, Jisung tensed, surprised by the sudden display of affection, but then he relaxed, returning the hug with equal warmth.

"Take care of yourself, Jisung," I murmured, my voice barely audible as I buried my face in his shoulder. "I'll miss you."

Jisung's response was a soft chuckle, his arms tightening around me. "I'll miss you too, Chenle," he said sincerely. "But hey, when I get back, we can go explore the city together if you want. It'll be fun."

The warmth of his words sent a flutter through my heart, and for a moment, the prospect of spending time alone with him filled me with a sense of joy and anticipation. But as quickly as it came, the reality of our friendship and the unspoken boundaries between us settled over me like a veil.

"Sure, that sounds great," I replied, forcing a smile as I reluctantly released him from the embrace. "I'll hold you to that, Jisung."

With a final nod, Jisung picked up his duffel bag and suitcase and made his way to the door. I watched him go, a mixture of emotions swirling within me—gratitude for his friendship, longing for something more, and the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, our paths would someday lead us to a place where our feelings could be spoken aloud. I watched him leave, the weight of his absence settling around me like a heavy cloak. But as I held the book in my hands, I found solace in the knowledge that even when apart, Jisung's presence lingered, and the hope that one day my feelings might be more than just a silent longing.

As I walked back to my bed, clutching Jisung's book close to my chest, I couldn't help but notice the signs of his presence imprinted on it. The spine bore the marks of countless reads, the wear and tear a testament to the hours Jisung had spent immersed in its pages. The indents on the edges of the pages hinted at his firm grip as if he had held onto them for dear life, finding solace within the words.

Laying down on my bed, I held the book close to me, feeling the weight of its significance. The familiar scent of Jisung lingered on its pages, a comforting reminder of his presence even as he departed for the break. Closing my eyes, I breathed him in, allowing the essence of him to wash over me, filling the empty spaces left in his absence.

With each word I read, I felt a connection to him, as if his spirit infused the pages, guiding me through the story. Lost in the world of "Looking for Alaska," I found myself drifting into a realm where time ceased to exist, where the boundaries between reality and fiction blurred, and where the line between friendship and something more became tantalizingly thin.

As the hours passed and the night enveloped me, I clung to the book like a lifeline, its pages a source of comfort and companionship in the solitude of my dorm room. And though Jisung was miles away, his presence lingered in every word, every page. In every word penned by John Green, I found traces of Jisung's essence intertwined with the narrative. His laughter echoed through the humorous passages, his curiosity mirrored in the protagonist's quest for understanding, and his warmth radiated from the pages like a gentle embrace. It was as if the book itself had absorbed his spirit, infusing each sentence with his infectious energy and unwavering kindness.

With each turn of the page, I could almost hear Jisung's voice whispering in my ear, sharing in the joys and sorrows of the characters, and drawing me deeper into the story. His unique perspective coloured my interpretation of the text, adding layers of depth and meaning that I had never before noticed. As I delved deeper into the world of "Looking for Alaska," I found myself discovering new facets of Jisung's personality hidden within its pages. His compassion is reflected in the protagonist's empathy for others, his resilience mirrored in their journey through adversity, and his boundless optimism shining through the darkest moments like a beacon of hope.

But beyond the tangible similarities, it was the intangible connection between Jisung and the story that resonated most deeply within me. In every word, every sentence, every chapter, I felt his presence like a comforting presence beside me, guiding me through the complexities of life and love.

As I drifted off into the gentle embrace of sleep, the image of Jisung's smile lingered in my mind, a flickering flame of warmth and comfort amidst the darkness. His laughter danced on the edges of my consciousness, weaving through the tapestry of dreams like a familiar melody, soothing my restless heart.