(A/N: the girl above is how I imagine Park Areum, but you can imagine her how you like)
PARK AREUM
213
I drew the number onto my hand, the black ink of the pen seeping against the smooth surface. The classroom around me was filled with the sounds of small chatter amongst friends and soft laughter before the teacher was soon to arrive. I sat alone on a two seater desk directly below a large glass window, I had loved this seat the moment I saw it. At the beginning of the year I quickly sat in this chair, claiming it before anyone else could get to it.
Here I could stay by myself and stare out past the glass and into the busy streets that littered the city of Daegu, the faint sounds of cars moving in the distance. My thoughts were interrupted when realising the unfamiliar silence that now flooded the room. I lifted up my head and looked around, noticing that the students had all their heads snapped in the direction of the door. My gaze shifted up to see our teacher walking into the room, but what caught my eye was the tall brunette boy beside him with a boxy grin spread across his face as he laughed at the teachers joke.
He stood at a height of around 5'10, his body skinny but built under the black shirt that hung against his frame. His mousy brown hair was tousled and wavy, reaching just to his eyes. I took a mental picture, noticing how well the scene would look on paper. Through the tufts of hair I could see his chocolate brown orbs scanning the classroom, looking over each desk. When his gaze landed on mine we locked eyes for a brief second, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I broke the state quickly, diverting my eyes back to the scenery. Sound erupted back through the class quickly, everyone eager about the new student. I rolled my eyes and plugged my headphones into my ears, setting my phone onto shuffle as I pulled the abandoned sketch book lying half open on the desk closer to me.
I began to draw, too focused on the paper in front of me to notice the brunette approaching my desk. He hovered over the desk staring blankly at me before his gaze dipped down to my bag resting on the empty seat beside my own. I looked from the bag up to him before rolling my eyes and shoving it off of the chair onto the floor and dropping my eyes back to the book. He cocked a brow as a grin formed on his lips as he pulled the chair out for himself, sinking into it while running his large hands through his locks.
Through the duration of the class I caught him sneaking glances at my sketchbook, his eyes occasionally peering over my shoulder to see what I had been so occupied with. Whenever I would catch him his eyes would dart away, avoiding my face.
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When it came to school I would be the last one there and the first to leave, I had always preferred to stay alone and enjoy the quiet. A few minutes before the class was due to finish I abruptly shut the book and tucked it into my bag along with the remainder of my belongings scattered on the windowsill. I sat patiently in my seat checking the time on my phone, one minute left. His brows were knitted in a frown, confused as to why I had packed up so early. Once the ringing of the bell echoed throughout the room unbolted up from the seat, swinging the bag onto my back and rushing out of my seat down the aisles to the door. I hated awkward situations like that and I avoided them as best as I could, but when your life is awkward to begin with it's never in your favour. After internally cringing I made my way down the halls to the main exit where the students began to funnel out like ants, I put my headphones back in and made my way to the doors.
I walked slowly through the streets of neighbouring houses until getting closer to my own. The building was cramped and only sporting two small bedrooms accompanied by an open plan living room and kitchen. There was one large bathroom that was shared between my mom and myself. I had never known any different so I had no problem living in what was considered a small home, to me it just felt cosy. The walls were neatly painted a cool gray, complimenting the dark wooden floors that ran across the house. Inside the kitchen it was simple since my mom was working multiple jobs she would never have time to cook, it made sense to keep it plain. Followed by the kitchen was the living room filled with two plush couches decorated with an assortment of pillows and woolly blankets, a white fluffy rug sat below on the floor in between the two seats. A large oak bookshelf filled with dusty untouched novels sat pressed up against the wall, neglected and lonely. The two bedrooms along the hall consisted of my own and my mothers, both next door to one another. Her room was plain and empty, white walls and white bed sheets. The only form of decoration in the room was a small dresser and wooden chair in the corner. The calm atmosphere contradicted her own busy and emotional personality. Beside her bedroom was my own, one that was slightly smaller and more confined, I had begged my mom for this room just from first glance. It was an odd square shape but below the window was a large cubby hole, only big enough to fit in a mattress. I had painted the walls a dark beige colour to keep it natural and compliment the furniture, against the wall was a small oak wardrobe. In the cubby hole below the window was my bed, the thick mattress tucked into the small space. The corners of the walls had fairy lights trailing along each gap, leaving a gold hue in the darkness.
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(A/N: this is how I imagine part of the room to be, also pls pretend the window looks straight on to the house next door)
The street was quiet and boring, I had never really liked it. No one my age lived close by, my family being the only one with a child. As I approached my house I noticed the familiar 'For Sale' sign on the house next door to mine. This had become no surprise to me as people would move in and out frequently, never staying any longer than a year. Unfortunately the window above my bed faced directly against this house, giving both houses a clear view of the others window. I disliked this at first, not being fond of the idea that someone could see into my personal space. However I soon forgot about it after noticing that the residents had never paid attention to me and they would end up leaving soon anyway.
Outside the house was a van and a middle aged couple emptying out the contents of the vehicle. I adjusted my bag strap and walked closer to the house, inspecting the couple. The woman had short dark brown hair that hung loosely around her face in a side fringe, she was petite and had a small figure. Beside her was what I assumed to be her husband, a taller and larger male with a boxy shaped face and dark eyes. He wore glasses and a big rectangular smile on his face while he carried boxes into the open door. Somehow he felt familiar, something about his smile.
