flair - hansol vernon chwe

5

chapter 5

Ella was all that Hansol could think about that night, as he struggled to fall asleep. It was three twenty-seven in the morning, Hansol clutching his bedsheets and squirming around, not being able to contain his furor. His eyes didn't seem to want to shut, leaving him restless. But he wasn't alone.

Ella also had a hard time sleeping, but she didn't quite know why. She felt a sense of apprehension, and she ran through her never-ending thoughts, attempting to determine what was so important that would keep her up. It's not Hansol. Ella repeatedly said those words in her head, trying to make her believe them.

She knew beyond shadow of doubt that she had started developing feelings for him, even though she didn't want to. Ella had vowed not to be involved in relationships since she desired to be independent, how her mother was. But maybe Hansol was an exception.

Hansol had flair. He wasn't a person who aspired to be like someone else. Ella had only known this boy for a day, but she knew that he was unique and often peculiar. Her thoughts roamed around with her memories of the day before, Hansol's chestnut eyes staring into hers.

She couldn't stop thinking of the way he stared at his painting, intently, even if it was just a treble clef. And then she remembered how elegantly he carried the brush in his hand, slowly letting it touch the canvas.

What she didn't know at the time was that Hansol was having the same thoughts as her. It wasn't possible for him to get Ella out of his mind. It was as if she was trapped inside of him, with no way out. Everything about her was beautiful, at least according to Hansol.

Her hair, her eyes, the crinkle of her nose when she smiled. Everything.

Struggling to fall asleep again, Hansol laid on his back, resting his head on his arm, smiling to himself, as he knew he would see Ella again the next day.

-

Hansol didn't sleep much that night. He got up out of bed at approximately eight fifteen, leaving him enough time to put on a white tee, denim jeans, and brown boots, and to meet Ella at the café.

They decided to meet at nine. When Hansol walked in, Ella was sitting at the same booth that they were previously sitting at the night before, with an unreadable look on her face.

"You're late." It was one minute past nine.

"I-I'm sorry," Hansol pleaded. "I didn't mean-"

Ella just laughed uncontrollably. Almost everyone in the café looked at her, perturbed expressions on each of their faces.

"I got you! You should've seen the look on your face!"

Hansol was not amused. "Ella, don't do that to me! You should know that I'm sensitive."

"Actually, I don't know anything about you. That's why you're here. Remember? Or are you here for another reason other than to tell me about yourself?"

To be completely frank, Hansol was with Ella at the café for both reasons. Firstly, to tell her about himself. But secondly, to remember how beautiful she truly was.

-

WHAT'S GOOD MY BROS !!!!!!

I'm finally back. I would like to be sincerely apologetic in telling you guys that I have had absolutely no time to write whatsoever.  I thought that this month would be easier, but boy, was I wrong.  After all AP exams were over, I was continually  bombarded with projects from each class. (not fun) 

But as far as I know, I'm back! Expect updates at least every two weeks. :)

- emily