[FIC] The Second Time Around
His name is Yoochun. He’s tall and lanky and from America (“Yo yo yo! Whassup? You cool?”). He’s the new popular kid and you avoid him for the first few days because you’re still brooding over your “first love.” But on the third day of your bratty insolence, he asks for your help in the hallways. At first, he confuses you with his advanced grasp of Engrish (“Hi! This would be MICKY!”) but he thankfully realizes that you don’t understand a word coming out of his mouth when you just stare at him.
“Sorry, but could you help me find this room?” He points to what you think looks like a rectangle labeled with the number 629 on a crudely drawn map of your school and you huff in annoyance, trying to hide a second of hesitancy. “Follow me,” and he immediately smiles. You’re disgusted by the way he almost skips alongside you and you’re relieved when you finally reach the room he’d been looking for. You leave him there to marvel at your Steinway and your music and your lonely room. You quickly walk away to avoid seeing him caress your baby.
He completely ruins your intentions of ignoring everyone for the rest of your life. At lunch he pops up with a blue tray and plops himself down on the grass next to you without permission. You think maybe if you pretend to sleep, he’ll leave, but he just starts talking and won’t shut up. You almost yell in his face but he suddenly turns to you and asks you to watch him play. You embarrassingly think the worst and make a fool of yourself (“You’re disgusting, leave me alone, byungtae!”). He hurriedly explains his intentions and you would kick him in the shins and start screaming if it weren’t for the desperate look on his face.
You’re amazed at the way his hands dance along the keys and instantly you’re reminded of the first time you watched someone create music (oh, how you wished it had been for you). And you close your eyes to soak yourself in the sound, keeping them shut even as he stops playing, wishing he were here in front of you. He comes so close to becoming him and you barely register it as fingers move down your eyes and cheeks, sweeping across them gently. His grasp becomes firm and you feel his lips descend upon yours. And you think that maybe you can forget.
“Sorry, but could you help me find this room?” He points to what you think looks like a rectangle labeled with the number 629 on a crudely drawn map of your school and you huff in annoyance, trying to hide a second of hesitancy. “Follow me,” and he immediately smiles. You’re disgusted by the way he almost skips alongside you and you’re relieved when you finally reach the room he’d been looking for. You leave him there to marvel at your Steinway and your music and your lonely room. You quickly walk away to avoid seeing him caress your baby.
He completely ruins your intentions of ignoring everyone for the rest of your life. At lunch he pops up with a blue tray and plops himself down on the grass next to you without permission. You think maybe if you pretend to sleep, he’ll leave, but he just starts talking and won’t shut up. You almost yell in his face but he suddenly turns to you and asks you to watch him play. You embarrassingly think the worst and make a fool of yourself (“You’re disgusting, leave me alone, byungtae!”). He hurriedly explains his intentions and you would kick him in the shins and start screaming if it weren’t for the desperate look on his face.
You’re amazed at the way his hands dance along the keys and instantly you’re reminded of the first time you watched someone create music (oh, how you wished it had been for you). And you close your eyes to soak yourself in the sound, keeping them shut even as he stops playing, wishing he were here in front of you. He comes so close to becoming him and you barely register it as fingers move down your eyes and cheeks, sweeping across them gently. His grasp becomes firm and you feel his lips descend upon yours. And you think that maybe you can forget.