A Prose With No Direction

the atmosphere's a little bit warmer

"Here's your coffee," I say, handing Hugh a mug full of steam as well as a bucket of popcorn. "Could you place the popcorn on the table, please?"

Hugh nods, taking the bucket and placing it on the glass table pushed off to the side as well as grabbing his mug of caffeine and setting it on the blanket laid out on the floor. 

"Thanks," he replies, pulling an extra blanket on top of his lap.

"Are you sure you don't wanna sleep on the couch?" I ask, sitting on the floor beside him. "It's better than the floor. You could catch a cold."

"Well, you'll be sleeping there, too," he answers, a hand on the nape of his neck. "I'll be fine here."

"Don't blame me if you catch a cold," I say, turning the tv to Netflix. 

Hugh smirks, his face leaning into me. "If I do, will you take care of me?"

I push his head away. "You're mom's a nurse. Why bother me with your illness?"

"You're so mean, Clara," he whines, smiling as he sips his coffee. 

I click on the Kdrama, Crash Landing on You, a drama both Hugh and I started watching the other night. It's pretty cliche, but it's also mature in a way. The actors in the show aren't playing roles of teenagers nor twenty-five-year-olds, but rather play roles that act like their age. Although there are moments that are your typical cliche, heart-fluttering scenes, there's a certain refreshing and unique concept to it that makes those typical scenes extra special.

To be honest, I would've not continued watching this if it wasn't for Hugh.

But because of his urge to watch this with me, I am able to see this drama in a different perspective. One that makes me feel refreshed every time I watch it.

We watch and watch and watch, binging through the hour-long episodes. At moments, Hugh would squeal in delight, especially when the main characters kissed for the first time, his hand grabbing onto my arm and the other pointing at the screen. He's so sad and girly, a very different side of him that I just met tonight.

But to me, it's funny. I enjoy seeing this side of him. It makes me realize that he's not your typical, chic, boy-next-door type of guy who takes away all your problems through a kiss and whisks you away from reality on the back of a motorcycle. Hugh's not like that.

And that's what I like about him. 

Around the ninth or tenth episode, another kiss scene pops up, and Hugh instinctively grabs my arm, shaking it and squealing. On any other day, with someone else, my first instinct when someone touches me or grabs my wrist or arm, I would flinch, shoving their grip away. But this time, I don't react. 

I just smile.

Then Hugh suddenly starts wailing, shaking me harder. "Ahh! She's leaving, Clara!" He screams, his head leaning against my shoulder. "Se-ri's returning. Oh my gosh, Clara, she's leaving Captain Ri! Ahh, oh my gosh!"

"Aren't you too old to be acting like this?" I say, but I don't push him off. "She's probably gonna come back. We have like seven episodes left."

Hugh laughs, his head tilting to look up at me with a playful smile. "You're right."

A weird sensation suddenly erupts within me, sending a kind of chills down my body. But it's not the kind of chills that I get from the darkness or from the water. 

It's a feeling foreign to me.

"Doesn't your neck hurt like that?" I ask him. "We're not exactly the right height for each other for you to be comfortable in that position."

Hugh just looks at me.

I look at him. "What?"

"You're right," he says abruptly, his head leaving my shoulder. "It's a bit uncomfortable for my neck. But for me, personally, it's not." His ocean eyes glance at me sideways. "What about you? Do you feel uncomfortable?"

Do I feel uncomfortable?

I shake my head. "You're being way too playful today, Hugh," I scoff, grinning. 

"Maybe it's because of the atmosphere and the drama." He smirks. "But you're avoiding the question."

Something begins to throb in my chest.

It throbs and throbs and throbs, making a sound unfamiliar to me.

Ba-dump.

It goes.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

I feel like I can't breathe.

Hugh suddenly laughs, patting my head. "I'm sorry, I'm being weird, aren't I?" He says, grabbing the remote. "I don't know why I'm so giddy today. You don't have to answer. Just forget what I was saying." He backtracks the show. "We should probably rewind. I don't wanna miss anything."

His ears are red again.  

I bite my lower lip. "I don't necessarily feel uncomfortable," I reply, eyeing him. "With someone else, yes." Hugh looks at me. "But with you, I'm fine."

Eyes as black as night stare deeply into eyes as mysterious and as vast as the ocean. Neither of us says a word, but indulge ourselves in this never-ending staring contest.

But I'm the first one to look away.

"Aren't we watching?" I say, eyes finding comfort on the floor.

I feel weird looking at him face-to-face.

"Y-Yeah," I hear him answer, the drama playing again.

.

.

.

.

.

Ba-dump.