Love Affair | kth

10

Your legs were aching by the time you reached the roof of the school. Your thighs, calves and back felt sore. Cool air rushed and swept out of you, riding on the wind that blew against your face, tousling your hair. You doubled over, face close to the ground, as you leant to catch your breath. You'd never had enough stamina to rough out a sport an entire semester. The only thing you'd ever really had the stamina for, was... well. Taehyung.

It wasn't quiet up here like you had expected. The sound of far-away city traffic echoed. You heard the rustle of close-by trees, dancing in the chilling wind. You'd only been to the roof a total of two, maybe three, times, in all the time you'd gone to school here. You'd known the place was always there, and you'd heard multiple stories about how the roof was the perfect place to ditch class, or hang out with friends, or catch an introvert break.

You were still breathing hard, soothing your dry throat, by the time you slowly uprighted yourself again. Even though you'd been mentally preparing yourself for this moment, for longer than you could count now - you still weren't ready.

Taehyung was standing there at the metal balcony, his shiny, bulky black camera snug in his hands, its strap hanging around his neck. His collared white school shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the top, but only by one. The breeze blew the cotton material against his chest and away, his cream-tanned skin a shadow. His hair was longer than you'd remembered in that moment, having forgotten seeing him this way three hours ago: it was ruffled, shaggy almost, and the wind wafted it against his forehead, almost into his eyes. In his position, he looked like he was taking photos. But his head had turned to face you. His dark eyes hit you with a stare that you recognised, shining and gleaming with question, surprise, curiosity. You stared back into his eyes for a long moment, forgetting instantly where you were.

When was the last time he had looked into your eyes?

"[...]?" It was almost a murmur, softly spoken and deep, kind of gravely. The way you remembered it. He turned his whole body to face you then, back pressed against the railing. Now, one hand held his camera, the other hanging limp at his side. His eyes were beginning to clear up as he stared at you, the intensity building. Emotion flashed and flew across his gaze, each of them incomprehensible to you.

He said, "...well, hey."

Well, hey.

"Hey," you answered. You took an awkward step towards him.

"What are you doing here?"