ephemeral | chanyeol「✓」

three

september twenty one, two thousand and fifteen

My dear old friend, Chanyeol. Why were you late again today in social studies? what happened with you? what's the matter? is there any possible way for me to help?

If we were ten year olds, you would tell me everything, every single thing. But we are no ten year olds. We've grown up, you've grown up. And you'd never be late to classes for all I know, so I suppose that there might be something happening with you and I don't know it. Well, my sixteen year old self doesn't know it but my ten year old self would, and by acknowledging that somehow sent an aching sensation in my chest.

You had to go to the after-school detention again today, but just after Mr. Jung proclaimed that to you, you walked my way and wore that hollowness in your eyes again, but they didn't try to steal a glance at mine.

And then seconds later did I just realize that you didn't walk my way. There was an empty seat behind me, again.

Moments later, I could feel a firm hand on my shoulder, and it was your hand. The hand that I used to be holding years ago. And that was the moment I realized that I've been aching to feel your hand in mine.

"Mimi, do you have any pen that I could borrow? I forgot to bring one when I knew I was going to be late," you asked suavely, your tone was light and soft. I nodded and borrowed you my pen.

That was the first time you spoke to me in such a very long time, and the fact that you still know my name, the fact that you actually called me by my nickname you gave for me years ago, melted all the ices that never formed in my heart.

Love,
Chanmi