limited // z.y.

one

dear diary,

he talked to me today.

the guy i've liked since i came to this school.

his name is lay.

that's obviously not his real name, it's just a nickname.

i don't really know where it came from.

maybe it's because every now and then he'll lay across a bench and sleep an entire dinner period.

and there was the one time when he had a leg injury and couldn't participate in p.e., so he slept the entire period in the teacher's office.

but his real name is zhang yi xing.

he's originally from china, and he has the cutest accent when he speaks korean.

the way his lips push out a little, and sometimes he has a little lisp on a couple words.

it's incredibly adorable.

as i was saying, he talked to me today.

i've been coming to this school for five months already, but had never held any contact with lay.

but today, today was the day it happened.

---

i was in my eighth class, music.

we were working on our personal projects. mine was to write a guitar solo with a main section of fingerpicking.

i was just sitting at my desk in the classroom, slightly uncomfortable with the position i was in with my guitar, but i ignored it as i continued trying different chords for the chorus.

i noticed a body covered in a male uniform stopping in front of my desk as my eyes skimmed my page, the hands of the being stuffed into their trouser pockets.

i looked up slowly, my eyes soon arriving in contact with his dark brown irises, as he leaned down, tilting his head ever so slightly to observe as i acknowledged his presence.

his lips pulled into a small smile as he straightened up, still watching me as i averted my attention entirely to him, ignoring my writing as i was halfway through writing a chord change.

i took a moment to take a look at him, absorbing him in all his glory, with his neatly worn school blazer adorning his chest, his brown hair falling over his forehead.

we had not even spoken a word to each other, so i decided to break the seemingly awkward silence.

"uhm, annyeong?" i spoke shortly, a slight pitch in my voice as my throat was a bit dry.

his smile grew, the dimple in his left cheek deepening. "annyeonghaseyo! i don't believe we've met before. i'm zhang yixing, but most people call me lay."

i felt it would be odd to say that i already knew these details about him, so i refrained from saying something awkward like 'i know' or 'so i've heard'.

instead, i replied with a simple greeting, introducing myself.

"i'm ____, it's nice to meet you."

i bowed slightly in my seat, which he returned, bending forward a couple degrees as a form of respect, his arms by his sides.

"so you're also doing a guitar solo?" he asked curiously, leaning on the chair of the desk in front of mine.

i looked down, seeming to have forgotten what i was doing, before looking back up at him again.

"ne."

he frowned, pouting.

"me too. but why are you doing it alone?"

now it was my turn to frown.

i found it was a bit of an odd question, seeing as we were allowed to either work in pairs or alone. everyone in the class had been taken, with the odd one out being me.

i didn't really mind working on my own, seeing as i didn't have any friends in this class, and it was easier to pay attention to my work without the distraction.

i also have trust issues which explains the fact that i don't like when people freeload during group assignments, so i know that i'm going to do the work and don't have to worry about anyone else not falling through.

i shrugged lazily, leaning back in my chair.

"i'm not quite sure about that one. this class has uneven numbers, therefore when everyone paired up, i was left alone. plus, i don't have any friends in this class, and its easier to work alone sometimes."

he tilted his head to the side.

gwiyomi.

"aren't we friends though?"

to say i was taken aback would be a understatement.

he leaned forward, eyebrows raised in question, pushing for an answer.

how can i answer? when his face is so close all i want to do is kiss him.

although, that would be highly innapropiate in a classroom.

but then again, does it look like i care?

"chingu?"

he whispered.

he was asking if we could be friends.

believe me, i want to be more than friends.

but i guess it could work.

"sure"

he sprung up at my words.

"yay, we're chingu now!"

he clapped his small hands together, making him appear as nothing more than a six year, with a big smile appearing on his face.

neomu kyeopta.

"omo, i have to go now."

he bows again, before waving like a kindergardener and making his way.