Lullaby of Your Embrace (COMPLETED)

Chapter 1

I plodded down the halls, with some tiredness dragging my feet. My history class was starting in—I glanced at my watch—approximately 7 minutes. I turned the corner into another hall and immediately caught sight of a boy standing in the middle with his fingers clasping his head. His torso shook as if each breath was painful for him—as if he was drowning in the air around him. 

The other students, though provided worrying second glances, walked around him and hurried to class. The building entrance door behind me opened and closed repeatedly; the stream of people accompanied the warm breeze. But with each clang of the door, the boy's body seemed to flinch. As I neared, I slowed down to a stop in front of him and grasped my backpack straps tighter. A part of me warned against involving myself in whatever chaos the boy was going through, and I had a class to attend. I could easily walk away and hope he finds help. However, his soft brown hair trembled slightly on his head, his shaky breaths became gasps, and I knew I could never ignore such a distressing sight. I bowed my body for him to be able to meet my gaze.

The ends of his hair were stuck to his forehead with sweat. His widened eyes remained dull and distant as if he wasn't aware of his own presence in the hallway.

Calmly, I began, "Look at me. Focus on me. It's just me and you. There is nothing else. Look at me."

His eyes slowly drifted to my face.

I immediately continued with a slow and gentle tone, "There is no one else. There is nothing else, nobody else. Just me and you... And everything will turn out okay. So, focus on me now. Just focus on me. There is only me and you here. And I need you to breathe in," I heaved in a slow, exaggerated breath. "And breathe out. Focus on me. It's only me and you. There is nothing else. Now, breathe with me. Count your breaths. 1... 2... 3... It's just me and you. Focus on my voice."

I kept repeating my words. As his face gradually lifted from the floor, so did mine. I never stopped talking to him as I had to keep his focus. Standing in the center of the hall, like a rock in the river, the students drifted past us. I began to believe in my own chanting. I had forgotten about my class starting in a few minutes. I had forgotten about my studies, my problems back home, my tiredness. My backpack felt weightless.

After some time, when I felt he had completely calmed down, and his brown gaze sat intensely at mine, the weight on my shoulders returned, and I staggered under it.

"I-I have to go to class," I abruptly shifted to walk around him.

"Wait!" He urged with an almost inaudible voice. I turned again to meet his frantic eyes.

He fell silent and fidgeted with his fingers. Cold sweat began to clamp my palms because I knew class must have already begun, and my professor found it absolutely necessary to take attendance.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep the panic from seeping into my voice.

"Ca-Can I hug you?" He stammered.

My gaze shifted away from his and wandered aimlessly. I hadn't received a hug in so long. In high school, I would look into my friend's eyes and ask her in a tone laced with similar desperation to give me a hug whenever I felt down—when I needed someone's arms to encircle me and shield my sight.

"Yes." I shuffled closer to him, my hands letting go of the backpack straps. His thin arms quickly reached out and slung themselves around my torso. They were lined with light freckles as he encaged me in them. We were about the same height, but I stepped up on my toes as I moved my arms over his shoulders to hug him as tightly as I could. His head snuggled against my neck, and embarrassment suddenly seeped into my cheeks. We must look odd, I thought, to the people walking around us. However, nobody bothered us a glance.

"You're a good hugger," I said randomly. "It's rare to find a good hugger."

"So are you," he replied in a dazed voice.

As the seconds passed, I didn't dare to move away. I felt that he needed this more than I ever did, and he should be the one to decide when to move away. However, the few moments turned to minutes, and I once again remembered how late I was for my class.

I brought my hands to his chest and slowly pushed away. His arms wilted immediately to his side as if in great disappointment. His face showed a slight frown, and he looked awkwardly at me, unsure of what to say. His gaze drifted downwards as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't be sad," I immediately blurted out, "I got to go to class. I'm super late, but I'll definitely give you another hug after class is over. Okay?" I don't know why I promised such a thing, but it seemed like the only right thing I could say, seeing his expression.

His head abruptly rose as he nodded eagerly and shyly smiled. I smiled involuntarily in response and walked away. I couldn't help a quick glance back, though. The boy still stood in place: his left foot was nudging the floor randomly, and his smile was brighter. I quickly turned back and sprinted to class.

Catching my breath, I sighed and opened the door. It was a small classroom, and Dr. Smith sent me an annoyed side glance but didn't pause her seething speech about Winston Churchill's white supremacy. Sitting in class, I realized I didn't ask for the boy's name nor did he for mine, and he didn't even know what class I went to and when it will end.

After 45 minutes, Dr. Smith closed the thick book on her desk and gathered her papers. It was the signal for dismissal, and I quickly exited the classroom. Expectedly, he was nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes of wandering in front of my classroom, I lightly stomped out of the building.

The heat inside of my car boiled my skin. I quickly opened the windows and waited for a hint of a breeze. The air conditioning of my car only brought hot air; it was fortunate for the winter but a curse for the summer.

I lightly tapped my forehead, whispering, "Idiot." I might never cross paths with him again. It was sad, somewhat, but some part of me was relieved. There was nothing more to be worried about or to have to care for. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mae, have you left campus, yet?" A familiar voice sounded in my ear.

Sitting in the parking lot, I looked at the building I just left, wondering how to answer.

"Not yet," I sighed truthfully.

"Did you forget your promise?" she asked, accusingly.

My eyes widened at her words, and I shifted uncomfortably, "How do you know about that? I-I couldn't find him," I stammered defensively.

"What? What are you talking about? You promised you'd go to the swing dance tonight."

"Nevermind," I quickly replied.

"Why is your voice so suspicious? What are you hiding?"

"No, I-I just misunderstood. I'll be there. Tonight. Yes. Bye," I ended the call and lowered my head to rest against the steering wheel. The heat was sweltering. I glanced at my watch; I had four hours left. I already regretted my decision to go. I had so much work to catch up on, but Jasmine always nagged at me to attend these events she organized. Swing dance was very popular on our campus.

"I don't want to go," I groaned as I pulled out of the parking lot. I didn't know the first thing about swing dancing. All I've done was watch a video about some couple dancing once with Jasmine. While Jasmine's eyes were full of excitement, mine were full of yawns. It had looked quite tiring to me; they were always twisting, pulling, and pushing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leave a comment on what you thought of the first chapter *hug*