Band-Aids || Chanyeol

3 |

"N-NOONA! I'M SORRY, I didn't see you there!" Chanyeol stammered, feeling utterly caught off-guard by her sudden presence. She stood at least six inches shorter than him, and yet she made him feel flustered, overly conscious of every single move he made. "Do you need something?"

She chuckled, almond eyes crinkling amiably. "No, your friend took care of me." She lifted a leg and showed him the thick strips of linen wrapped around her ankle.

His eyes widened. "Are you – "

"I'm all right. Clumsy, but all right." She laughed again, and the phenomenon was so startling, so enthralling, that it loosed a similar, albeit hesitant, chuckle from his lips.

After three seconds passed, sweat began to bead his temple. He could feel the awkward silence coming along, and no, he just couldn't bear –

"Oh!" he started, remembering. "Noona, you... left your card here last time you visited."

He strode over to the reception table, shoved Sehun's feet off the desk, and, ignoring his friend's pointed look, fished through the drawer for the object in question.

Meanwhile, the girl took out her wallet in bewilderment and looked through it, confusion evident on her face. "Huh? I didn't leave any – " She paused when she took in the plastic card Chanyeol held out to her. "Oh. Oh. It seems I did. Thank you."

"You go there often?" he asked, as she took the card from his hand and slipped it back into her purse. She began to nod – then caught herself, shaking her head instead. "Yes. Well – no, I haven't been there in months."

"Huh? Why not?"

"It's the..." she trailed off, seeming to consider her words carefully, "...diet I'm following."

"But you're – " He was cut off by a ringtone, which was a blessing, really, since he realized a half second later he'd had no idea what to say.

Glancing once, then turning away from them, she raised her phone to her ear. "Hello? Jiyong? Oh. I see."

Chanyeol felt Sehun nudge his leg under the table, and dutifully ignored the action.

"Sorry, I have to go." The girl refaced them and flashed an apologetic smile. "Jiyong's waiting for me at the classroom, apparently. He's my boyfriend."

"Well, sh*t," Sehun whispered, nudging Chanyeol once more.

This time, Chanyeol kicked him back.

"I don't think we were able to properly introduce ourselves," he managed, quickly composing himself and holding out a hand. "Park Chanyeol, Class 2-B."

"Sandara. Park Sandara." She shook his hand warmly. He tried to pretend he hadn't read her name on the privilege card Sehun had picked from her pocket. He returned the smile she gave him, but faltered.

She has a boyfriend.

He tried not to let his disappointment show as she let go of his hand.

He should've known it was too good to be true, for a senior as pretty as Park Sandara to visit the clinic he volunteered at not just once, but twice in a week. Perhaps it wasn't Fate, but just Coincidence, the stupid rascal, playing with his awkward, utterly infatuated heart.

He didn't realize he'd been staring distantly into space until she cleared her throat, immediately drawing his attention.

He opened his mouth, but this time, his wits failed him. The silence that followed was thick enough to slice with a butter knife.

"I'm Sehun," his friend offered.

–∞–

            "Just saying, you should've seen it coming," Sehun said.

            The two were tidying up for the day – double-checking the inventory, pulling back plastic curtains. Chanyeol gave him a look. "And I suppose you did."

            "She's a pretty senior. Of course she'd have a boyfriend."

            "So why, again, did you play wingman that day? Oh, and not to mention pick her pocket."

            "I needed practice. And I like watching your dreams get crushed."

            Chanyeol threw a pen at him.

            "But what I find odd," Sehun continued, a musing expression on his sharp features, "is that Sandara-sunbaenim comes all the way here to have her wounds treated. Isn't there another clinic in the senior wing?"

            He shrugged. He'd learned quite enough about Coincidence to question the possibility of another reason. "Maybe she has a younger sibling."

            Sehun tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe."

            By six-thirty, they'd restored the clinic back to its original, pristine condition and began locking up. The corridors of the sophomore wing were quiet, desolate in the dark as they passed through them. They'd parked their bikes at the south gate, which meant they'd have to walk through the senior wing on the way out.

            And maybe it was the dark, broody atmosphere, or perhaps the pensive silence, but Chanyeol found himself wondering why he'd never seen Sandara there before, considering he and his friend passed by the senior wing practically every day.

            And then five minutes later, he wished he hadn't let the thought cross his mind.

For standing inside one of the unlit classrooms, wearing her prim navy pullover and pretty blue headband, was Park Sandara herself, laughing and teasingly pushing her boyfriend away, to no avail, as he kissed on the lips. Again, and again,

and again.

TIME OUT: 6:30PM