I WAS MADE FOR YOU

CHAPTER - 2

For three days, not a word was spoken between me and Taehyun. I attempted thrice to start a conversation with him but his spiritless eyes has somehow always shooed me away. Taehyun could always be seen in his study table every passing hour of a day. He'd stretched his limbs from the chair from time to time and he'd occassionally gulped his water bottle set on the table. His father would call us down for lunch or desserts to try to cheer him up but nothing could make him leave his study seat. He still must be mad staying in this household with us I assumed and I believe that's exactly what's going on.
His father won't dare to urge to come up with another topic to chit chat about and so won't his stepmother who's a tad bit afraid to disrupt his study sessions- more like exasperated session.

From my perspective, he is their pride and reputation, the golden son, the golden trophy, the midas touch that turns his intelligence into money and fame. So, of course, as long as his grades and prominence is high, they'll consider everything he does as good. They will even put up with his dark glares and that not-so-useful-mouth of his. It's not that I find it irritating or anything ; but, I found his life pretty pitiful. Pathetic in a way that I will never scorn at. His bad manners could not surpass the apology I felt towards him.

So, that's why I decided to "Tea?" I smiled as I placed the steaming tea on the table.

He stopped his tracks with his writings and stared at the cup of tea, then at me. I smiled nonetheless, even if his eyes pierced through my confidence, tattering it.

"I thought you might be tired." I almost stuttered.

"I'm not, I'm fine." He spoke, almost trying to be nice about it from my ears.

As I decided not to force my kindness upon him, I took the cup from the table and held it to warm my cold hands which happened to colden due to the boy's response "I see" I muttered softly "Good luck then."

He didn't respond, not even with his body language. Although in my peripheral view, I saw how his eyes fluttered a bit. Was it my words or my warm actions? I did not know. Whatever it was, I was really glad to see something shifted in that boy's stiff soul.

Knowing the alteration he needs, I decided to offer him apple slices the next day. And the next day, I offered pomegranates. And the next day, I offered kiwis.
He refused them all. Maybe he really dislike fruits I tell myself when deep down, I know that it's purely a rejection.

Slipping positive regards towards him, I refused to give up, and the other day, I gifted him my homemade pancake, with syrup drooling from the top with blue berries decorating the base. I was proud of it.
Despite the fact that I might have a high chance of succeeding today, my hopes were crushed by a hard slam of his book, terrorizing my stance. I flinched and my feet flinged back instinctively to stay safe. His another stinging glare stabbed mine painfully. I felt my heart throb inside of me. I questioned whether it was fear, heartache or just all of the apalling options.

"Please, just leave me alone. Do not care for me." A puff of breath he released from his chest as if he was holding it in for many days. "Don't be worried. Stop being a pushover. Leave.me.alone." he gritted the ends of his words.

With every word registered in my head, the throbbing pain in my chest added up. It felt awful and terrible.

His offensive glowers died down after a minute of my silence and the legible fear in my face. His eyes turned almost soft, almost sorry. Again, his obnoxiousness could not excel my sympathy for him.

"What do you like to eat?" His eyes are now surprised - big and vulnerable - something completely new. "I'll make it for you." My voice toned down and cushioned. I looked into the new emotion that is now displayed in his face. "I'm obviously not the best cook, but you can ask for anything." I said, smiling.