daybreak || minsung

Chapter 15

I woke up, sprang out of bed, and raced through my routine. As soon as I was downstairs, I watched for him through the window. I was so focussed I forgot to eat breakfast. My entire body was shaking with the prospect of seeing him, hearing his voice...

I decided I was definitely too agitated for my own good, and made myself sit calmly on the couch.

I immediately scampered back to the window, embracing the nervous excitement and counting the seconds.

The silver Volvo finally pulled up. I sprinted out the door, through the rain, and got in.

We locked eyes as soon as I was settled. His irises were a darker gold than I was used to — still destructive in their beauty. I would have fallen if I wasn't already sitting.

"Hi," he said — his sweet, distracting voice in maximum effect.

"Hi," I said back. My morning had felt like an eternity without him.

He backed out of the driveway and zoomed toward school.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Why don't you tell me? I was asleep while it was happening."

"It's cute, actually." He smiled, and I grimaced. "You get too warm, so you pull the blanket up until you're just two disembodied feet. I don't know how you don't suffocate with your head under the covers like that."

I blinked, self-conscious. And intrigued.

"Do you think I'll ever get to watch you sleep?" I asked. "Or, um, lie somewhere with your eyes closed? I swear I'm not a lunatic."

His eyes darted to me, but his head stayed still. "I don't know."

"Was that a promise?"

"It obviously was not."

I sighed. "You said you were going to think about us. Come up with anything yet?"

"Give me two seconds, Minho, jeez," he said, a hint of a smile on his face. He turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. It was annoying how fast we got to school; our private conversations never lasted as long as I wanted them to.

"I'm just excited." I was staring at him, smiling. He met my eyes, and looked away quickly. I looked away, too.

"You had last night," I said. "What were you thinking all that time?"

He wasn't in the driver's seat. My heart took off pounding, nearly painful, slamming into my ribs like it was trying to break me in half.

Then my door opened, and I saw he was holding it for me.

"Um, thanks," I said, getting to my feet. My heart was still racing.

He closed the door. "You're welcome. And I was thinking about it, actually. But I didn't... decide anything. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I mumbled.

He walked me to my class, and we parted ways. The rest of the morning was near unbearable. I would yearn for him every time he left, and have trouble restraining myself every time we met again. After Trigonometry, I was so desperate for any kind of contact that I pretended there was a thread hanging off his sleeve. I got to touch his wrist, and it was amazing, but he saw right through me.

We were still arguing about the fake thread when we arrived in the cafeteria. I was hungry, so I bought a sandwich. He followed me through the line, shadowing me like my own pint-sized personal bodyguard (I knew he would square up if I said that out loud).

We sat down across from each other at our table. I took a bite of my sandwich. I hadn't realized I was starving until then. I stuffed way too much into my mouth.