The Study of Love - 4 [#BOOMGOESNAOMI birthday fic]
‘For love to remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart.’
I read this once in one of those girly books Soojung likes to read in between exams.
She likes to cram her things into everyone’s piles: mine, Jinri’s, Jongin’s and Sehun’s.
It’s infuriating but she is our friend and we love her for it, or despite it.
(I really could never be sure.)
But anyway, the point I’m trying to make is I don’t necessarily agree with the quote a hundred percent.
I think that love isn’t shown through just words but by actions as well.
Being able to sing or write or say ‘I love you’ shouldn’t be the only way we believe that it’s there.
Sometimes love is there in the background, waiting for the right time.
Sometimes it’s in a simple concession to a bet, or a special delivery of sushi after class.
Sometimes it’s there during the quiet time you walk the person you love to her next class.
Each movement needs rhythm-a counter action.
Words don’t mean as much as when you do something about it.
God, I’m a hypocrite, but that’s how it is.
All I’m saying is, the love is there.
Not necessarily doves or ringing church bells, but subtle.
Just waiting for that right time.
L.T.
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TUESDAY / ENGLISH LITERATURE 101 (13:00-14:30)
Taemin groans in frustration and defeat as he leans back to his chair, flipping his book away when the door clicks shut. Professor Jeon is making a quick run to her office for something he left behind, so they are left to their own devices. The other students are already chirping away, so he glances at his friends to vent out his rant.
“I don’t understand a single crap she was talking about,” he mumbles, scratching his head with the end of his pen.
“That’s because everything she said was crap,” Jongin concludes. He has the same confused look as Taemin on his face, but unlike the older boy, he seems like he can’t care less.
“Why are you even taking English Lit? It’s not even required for your course.”
Not lifting his gaze away from whatever he’s doodling on Emily Dickinson’s face, he shrugs. “I made Soojung arrange my classes this semester because she lost a bet, and she thought enrolling me in this class was a genius idea to get back at me.” Sehun snorts curtly in amusement next to him, but Jongin chooses to ignore the blonde. He then finally looks up to address Taemin. “Why are you in this class? I thought English is your arch nemesis.”
“He thinks it’s a wonderful strategy to impress poetry lover Choi Jinri aka the love of Lee Taemin’s life,” Sehun answers the question for him. He attempts to keep a straight face but when both Taemin’s cheeks and ears changes from the normal colour to crimson red before his expression eventually darkens as he shots the younger boy a glare, but Sehun’s efforts turn out useless because Jongin and him both break out into a fit of laughter, causing the other students in the class to stare at them.
“Ah,” Jongin nods understandably when their giggles die down, and gives his friend a supportive pat on his shoulder. “That’s very, um, attentive of you.”
“Shut up.” Taemin rolls his eyes.
Sehun lets another chuckle escape before his face turns solemn. “Okay, serious question here. Have you even tried asking her out?”
“Uh, no,” he replies in a small voice. His orbs quaver a bit as he struggles not to meet their gaze. “But hey, you know we have Anthropology together, right? The week before last I walked her to her next class after Anthro.”
Taemin looks so content and pleased with himself that Jongin doesn’t have the heart to break his bubbles, so he quietly takes out his phone and types a message under the table, out of Taemin’s vision. Seconds later Sehun’s phone buzzes noisily in his pocket, and the soon he reads the message he immediately burst out laughing again, unable to contain his hilarity.
“What?” the oldest boy raises a brow and scowls, suddenly feeling left out from whatever joke the two seem to be sharing.
“Nothing,” they return and shake their head in unison, and Taemin feels even more bitter so he takes out his own phone and starts playing games.
“Why do you even like Jinri? I’ve known her since forever and I never saw anything in her that worth making me risk screwing my grade just so that she’d be impress with me,” Sehun mutters. There’s a frown on his face as he twirls a pen in between his fingers.
“That’s because you’re blind,” Taemin retorts.
“And you’re not?” the blonde snickers. “At least I’m still able to differentiate between walking someone to class and follo―”
He is interrupted by Jongin kicking his foot under the table, and they eye Taemin whose face has turned a shade of red so deep they didn’t even know such colour was possible.
“I’m so done with you assholes,” Taemin mumbles under his breath as he gives up on the game, starts to gather his stuff and shoves everything into his bag without even bothering to organize them.
“Where are you going?” Jongin asks.
“Off finding new, nicer people whom I can actually call friends.”
However before he could leave, the door opens and their lecturer makes her way back in. “Okay, class. Sit in your group. We’re doing something today,” she announces, and Taemin’s pout becomes more visible as he kicks the empty chair in front of him because his groupmates are none other than the people he just called assholes.
“You can’t escape us, Lee Taemin.” Sehun half-whispers in a mocking tone.
“Yeah, man, you’re stuck with us,” Jongin adds with a smirk. “At least for the rest of the semester.”
Taemin groans again while the two share a high five and try their best not to laugh. “Well then, can one of you be useful for once and explain this fucking poem to me so it actually makes sense?”
To his surprise, Sehun does explain it to him, in a detailed manner at that, and towards the end of the class when their group turns out getting the highest score for the little game their lecturer conducted based on the poem, Taemin finds himself seeing Sehun in a new light.
“How come you never told me you’re good at literature?” he asks incredulously.
“Because I never told anyone?”
“Why are you even good at it?”
The younger one shrugs and, expecting the reaction he’d receive, smiles smugly. “Well, having Jinri as a best friend also comes with the special privilege of her being my personal tutor. And unlike you I actually listen when Soojung teaches us English.”
Hearing that, Taemin makes a face at him just as Sehun predicted. “Can we exchange best friends?”
“You wanna be my best friend instead? Cool. Girls are gross.”
“Says the guy who has a crush on Soojung.”
Sehun’s face flushes a little but he recovers quickly. “Soojung is not a girl. The whole time I’ve been friends with her, I never saw her wear anything but pants. Does she even own a skirt?”
“Oooh, not only that you didn’t deny my statement, you even monitor her wardrobe,” Taemin teases in a singsong voice, delighted that the tables have finally turned now and he’s the one on the attacking side. “And yes, she does have skirts. Hundreds of ‘em even. She just doesn’t like to wear ‘em.”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
Glancing over at Jongin, Taemin doesn’t fail to notice that he is silent throughout the entire conversation. He also notices the faint blush on his friend’s cheeks because he knows that the last time Soojung went out with Jongin for their project together, she actually wore a skirt. He catches Jongin’s gaze right then, at when the latter mumbles a “what?” questioningly, he just shakes his head and manages a smile.
Some things, Taemin realizes, don’t really require much explanations.
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(( INTERIM ))
When Jinri finally talks herself to sleep, it is 4am in the morning. “I hate boys,” she mutters to herself, indirectly blaming them for her lack of sleep. She rubs her eyes and collapses into her bed comforter. Her phone buzzes next to her pillow.
“Hello?” she yawns, reaching over to turn off her bedside lamp.
“Hey, Soojung.” And it’s Jongin, his voice deep and tired. In her sleepless delirium, she can imagine him with bloodshot eyes, cheek pressed against his physics textbook.
“‘sup,” she says grudgingly.
“Why are you still up?” he asks from the other end.
“I could ask the same to you. What are you doing still up at the crack of dawn? Getting high or something?”
He laughs. “As if. Well, I’ve just been thinking - I mean, nevermind.”
“What?” she says, her voice a bit softer now, as to not wake up Jinri.
He inhales deeply. “We should sleep now, I guess.”
“I was about to, until you decided to interrupt, thank you very much.”
A pause. “You can’t blame me if…” he cuts off. “Good night, Soojung. See you tomorrow during chem, I guess.”
She’s barely listening anymore, her eyes already drifting shut. “Good night, Jongin,” she mumbles. And all is quiet.
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It’s true that love is more than just words.
Action is needed; with movement and rhythm to go along with the beauty of the three words.
There is a need for a moment to remember and dance to for the rest of our lives.
One cannot be without the other.
Actions should be reaffirmed with words.
Words reaffirmed with actions.
You cannot tell someone you love them and not showing.
That wouldn’t be fair.
But then again, when is anything fair?
C.J.
( next part )