#kthpurplesyou

...i really can’t pinpoint a specific time where i looked at you and started feeling my heart jump a little.  not in a concerning medical way but in the way that makes my breath catch when you look at me with that smile when you’re wearing your glasses and you are snug in a hoodie and wearing a beanie when i make you laugh.

sometimes when we’re walking in the afternoon across campus and i look at you, the sun shines just right and i swear that (when your hair was blond at least :p) you literally looked like you had a halo.  like you’re finally letting the rest of us mortals truly see the angel you are.

you pause once again, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper.  how much did you really want to let him know?  you bite your lip.  the only sound in your room was of your breathing and the heater kicking on.  you let go of your lip, blinking once or twice before deciding that if you’re going to write him a letter on christmas, damn it, you’re going to put all your cards on the table.

i’m sorry if this seems sort of disjointed.  it’s just hard for me to think straight when i think about you.  you have this aura, this charisma, that just draws people in and i love that about you.  you have the ability to make people feel at ease around you and you make it look effortless.  it’s incredible.  i feel like sometimes i do the opposite, that i make people feel awkward instead..

i like to watch you while you work.  it sounds sort of weird?  but when you’re working on your music, you throw your whole heart and soul into it.  the minute you step into the studio, i can see a weight lift off your shoulders.  you look like you’re more at ease behind a mixing board than you are behind the wheel of your car.  this look comes into your eyes, like something has clicked and you go into extreme focus mode.  i won’t lie, sometimes it’s kind of really hot to see it happen.  you set your jaw and your profile literally looks like it was sculpted by a god or something.  but other times i just sit there and admire your dedication to your craft, watching you write and rewrite lines over and over as you figure out the best combination to have the most impact possible.  seeing you compose is always so inspiring to watch and i will let you know that in fact my best essays have been written while i was in the studio with you.

now i guess this is where i spill out about the mushy gooey romantic stuff, huh?  be prepared.  some of this is probably cringe.  but it’s fine, y’know?  you know me.

you take a breath.  the part that you’ve been simultaneously anticipating and dreading has arrived.  the part where you actually are going to talk about your feelings and fleeting romantic daydreams that you have while waiting for him in the coffee shop near his studio.

i sometimes think about holding your hand.  just that.  holding your hand while we both do something mundane, like walking down the street or while we wait in line at whatever street food vendor happens to be near campus that day.  i think about just sitting in the same room, both of us doing something different but we’re together.  which i know is something we already do anyways, but i think about just taking a quick break to give you a kiss on the cheek or on the nose, just to watch you laugh or scrunch your nose up before we both go back to our business.  i watch you perform with our other friends, joshua and soonyoung and seokmin and chan, on stage during whichever show of the month it is and i think about giving you a kiss before for good luck.  i can’t take my eyes away from you when you’re under the spotlight.  it’s like it’s meant for you.  i still think you need to let mingyu join, if not to just get him to stop giving me and you the puppy eyes when we watch you rehearse.  (i feel bad for him and i cannot keep buying him coffee.  wonwoo said i needed to quit it because on those nights mingyu stays up until like 4am cooking way too much food for the two of them and seokmin and “apparently” their fridge is “too full”.  they could just give it to us, the cowards.)  but i digress.

i want to say “yeah, that’s my boyfriend” when you drop me off at class and jeonghan starts teasing me. (sorry, but he’s known about my crush now for uh.  quite some time.  heh.)

i want to wear stupid matching couples items or outfits and have minghao groan when he sees us.  i want to go on dates with you, even if it’s something as simple as us watching the next episode of our favorite show before one of us has to go back to work.  i want to curl up next to you on the couch and feel your arms wrap around me, keeping me safe and close.  i.

i

i want to kiss you whenever i want.  i want you to kiss me back.  i want to be able to see you up close, eyes bright with joy and love after we kiss.  i want to tell you how much i love you.  i want to not have to choke those words down anymore.

but... but most of all...

you wipe at your eyes as they start to fill.  time to lay the final card in your hand down.

most of all, i want to get over you.  i don’t want to ruin our friendship because i can’t breathe when you stand next to me.  i don’t want to throw away four years because i keep craving your hand in mine, your arm around my shoulders.  i want to get over you because it’s the best thing for both of us.

i’m sorry that you had to find out about my feelings this way.  i wish i could have been braver.  i figured i had one last shot before graduation.

i love you.  i’m so sorry.  goodbye.

you set your pen down.  the noise of plastic hitting wood echos around you with a feeling of finality.  you go through the motions, folding the paper up, putting it in an envelope.  you write his name on the outside in the best handwriting you’re able to muster.  everything feels robotic now.  you get up and find your jacket and boots, putting the envelope in the giant pockets of your winter coat.  double-checking for your phone and keys, you leave your apartment, locking the door behind you.

you know he’s at his studio right now, being woozi the producer and singer and dancer.  so you turn towards the bus stop that will take you there.  surprisingly, it arrives just after you reach the shelter.  the ride goes by in a blur of neons and halogens and snow and before you know it, you’re getting off at the stop a few blocks from his studio.

you don’t even stop to marvel at the little snowmen that appear every few buildings that the little kids have made on the sidewalk like you normally would.  you are on a mission and you have no time for distractions.

despite how cute and adorable and sweet those distractions might be.

a few more minutes pass, your footsteps on the snowy sidewalk and the cars on the road driving through slush your only companions, before you finally reach the building.  taking in a breath of icy air to steel yourself, you walk in and walk directly to his studio, taking only a moment to wave to the night security guy behind the desk, aron, who knows you from your many times there with jihoon.

you pause outside the door, pulling the letter out to look at it one last time.  this is it.  you take another deep breath, releasing it slowly, before knocking on the door.  you wait a few moments before he opens it, a smile immediately appearing when he realizes it’s you.

“hey y/n!  what are you doing here so late?”  jihoon opens the door a little more, an unspoken invitation to join him in the studio.  he’s wearing a gray beanie and looks comfy in his long-sleeved shirt and joggers.  he had a pen behind one ear and was holding a pencil in the hand not holding the door.

you shake your head.  “hey jihoon!  i just wanted to give you this,” you reply, handing the letter over.  “i hope the rest of your session goes well.”

he takes the letter from you, eyes briefly flickering down to read his name on it.  “are you sure you don’t want to come in?”  he asks, the door waving back and forth slightly.  he has a teasing smile on and you almost give in to the desire to stay.

“ah, no,” you decline and watch his smile dim a bit, “it’s a bit late and i still haven’t decided on what i’m going to be wearing to christmas breakfast with our friends in the morning.  the gifts are scattered all around my apartment.  it looks like santa’s bag was ripped open.”

he nods, a small laugh escaping him, “ah, i see.  i guess i’ll see you in a few hours then?”

“you will,” you smile.  “merry christmas, ji.”

“merry christmas, y/n.”  he shuts the door and you start your retreat back to the bus stop.

as you pass aron, he calls out a soft, “merry christmas, yn!”

you respond in turn, giving him another wave before you’re hit by the wall of cold air as you leave the building.  you don’t know when or even if jihoon will read the letter tonight, so you amble down the sidewalk, this time taking a moment to enjoy each of the tiny snowed men on your way.  the tense feeling in you lightens with each step you take.  you cross the street, going from one block to another, and get distracted by a guy packing snow into what looks to be rubber ducky-shaped molds on the end of giant tongs.  as you watch him arrange the ducks in front of the doors of some office building in a heart-shaped pattern, you don’t hear the footsteps hurrying behind you.

“what the fuck?”  jihoon asks loudly, his voice bouncing off of the buildings.  both you and the guy look at him.  you can’t tell if the pink of his cheeks is from embarrassment or the cold while he says, “no, not you.  sorry,” to the duck man.  he grabs your hand and pulls you a little further down the sidewalk, far enough out of earshot of the nighttime snow sculptor.

waving the letter, jihoon asks again, “what the fuck?”

you just stare at him.  it’s all you can do when your heart is in your throat.  you feel frozen and you know it’s from more than just the cold.

“what do you mean ‘goodbye’?  why are you apologizing?  did you even ask how i would feel?  how i do feel?”  he fires off one question after the other, each hitting you in the heart like an arrow.

“i- i-” you stutter, your mouth moving but with no words to finish the sentence.  what could you even say?  “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you myself?”

silence falls between you.  the headlights from passing cars casting strange shadows all across the both of your faces.  he’s still holding your hand.

“you didn’t even ask me, y/n,” he says, his voice soft.  you’ve never heard him use this tone ever.  he sounded almost fragile, delicate like a thin sheet of ice.  “you didn’t even ask me how i feel.”

“i didn’t think i had to,” you reply helplessly.  “i don’t need to hear a rejection to know that it’s coming.”

“who told you i would say no?”

you swallow, your heart suddenly in your throat once more.  hope that you didn’t even think existed started warming your veins.  “no one.”  you reply almost instinctively.  “...me.”

he steps closer to you.  “you were wrong,” he says, hand briefly tightening against yours.  “don’t you think i deserve to hear how you feel?  to hear you say it?”

you hesitate, not knowing if he was setting you up for some cruel joke.  he wouldn’t do that.  but also...

he takes another step, close enough now that if you weren’t outside in the winter in a padded jacket you would be able to feel the warmth from his body.  “c’mon, y/n.  tell me now how you really feel.”  he smiles at you, a small one you’ve never seen from him before.

“i love you,” you say, voice quiet and small.  you start to smile when you see his eyes light up even more, if that was possible.

his smile grows.  he drops the letter on the ground and uses that hand to cup your cheek instead.  “i love you, too.”  you sure are learning a lot of new things about him tonight.

his lips are warm when they meet yours and you find that you are both smiling into the kiss.

when you part, you whisper, “happy christmas, jihoon.”