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Han Taesan wonders if love will ever love him back.
He’s not unfamiliar with love. In fact, he’s more than acquainted with the feeling of butterflies that seem to eat away at his stomach until he caves, hunched over with hands gripping his already trembling heart before the butterflies try to eat it whole. His heart leaps at any chance of romance, any sign of a smudge of its ever welcomed presence. He lets it fuel him, the ‘what-ifs’ and the daydreams and the warmth that comes with having an outlet to pour all his love into.
Taesan is nineteen, a little dumb and a little reckless. He thinks he’s only a little reckless because Taesan is a labyrinth of walls that stretch as high and wide as the eye can see and beyond. It lets him just do things without much of a second thought, chase after things without thinking too much about the consequences. It’s because people will take one look at him and decide his walls are built of the sturdiest bricks. They try to fit him into a mould that doesn’t fit quite right, try to chip him down until they can play with the strings of his admittedly weak heart.
What they don’t know is that Taesan's walls may seem mighty, but the foundation is weak. It’s so, so weak. For those who take the time to know him, take him in, they’ll find out the truth fast enough. They’ll know that Love smiles at him and the butterflies come rushing, some knocking down the walls like dominos, the others following a well-worn path past all the curves and crevices.
Love comes in many forms to Taesan. Love is Dad, love is Mum. Love is his siblings, love is his friends. Love is the elderly roadside food stall owner who remembers his order even after all these years.
Love was also his neighbour, a girl who was only a little younger than him by a day, who wasn’t afraid of getting dirt under her fingernails when she played with him. Love was also his tutor, a senior who sat next to him much closer than what would be considered platonic, the warmth of his soul touching Taesan’s through their intertwined legs. Love was also a stranger who stayed with Taesan the whole day at a resort because he wanted to play beach volleyball and no one else wanted to, too.
Love slips through his fingers all the time, like water dripping through the gaps of his fingers no matter how tight he clenched his fist.
But even so, somehow, love always finds its way back to him.
Today, Love comes knocking at his door in the form of Kim Leehan.
Leehan is nineteen, just 71 days younger than Taesan is. Leehan is a little dumb and a little reckless, but he’s always holding out a hand for Taesan to steady himself with.
And Taesan is helplessly in love with Leehan.
He’s not quite sure when exactly was it that he started to fall for Leehan. Maybe it was when they first met, first year of high school, and Taesan was left alone during lunch break because his usual circle of friends had to stay back in class. It was just him, his lunchbox full of homemade noodles, and a box of chocolate milk. And then, he’s not exactly sure about the details but it soon became him, his lunch and Leehan. Leehan who had managed to slot himself next to Taesan as easily and as sneakily as he did into Taesan’s life.
“Hi,” Leehan, who was just another classmate back then, had said. “Where’s everyone else? You look lonely.”
“Not really,” replied Taesan. “Dunno where the others are. Where’s your group?”
Leehan shrugged. “Dunno. Mind if I join?”
And that was that.
Simple, easy, like how everything starts with them.
Or, maybe, it was when the school had brought the entire year out on a camping trip. Leehan had tapped him on the shoulder and blinked at him with his shiny eyes, which was all it needed to take for Taesan to hook an arm around his shoulder and declared them camping buddies.
Maybe it was when they squatted over a trail of ants attempting to rob them of their picnic food on the first night with their phone flashlights on, giggling over the silly names they had assigned to each ant. Maybe it was when Taesan had challenged Leehan to a tree climbing competition, and they’d both gotten stuck for hours until a teacher finally realised they were missing.
Maybe it was when Taesan felt a little sick halfway through the hike, and Leehan had offered Taesan his shoulder to lean on while the others continued on without much thought. Maybe it was when Leehan agreed to piggyback Taesan even though Taesan was just joking (not really), because he could “see that you really wanted to be held by me, heh”, only for them to collapse after a couple strides.
Maybe it was when they were both zipped up to the chin in their sleeping bags, both supposed to be snoring but instead muffling their giggles as best they could lest they get caught staying up beyond curfew.
Then, with the crickets in the background, Leehan had flopped onto his side, fully facing Taesan. He was laughing out loud, unable to contain it any longer with his smile stretched up his cheeks until his eyes bent into crescents and his dimples folded in deep. Something had hit Taesan, hitting him like an arrow straight through a target. Straight through bullseye. They’re so close, the tent being relatively small for two 180 cm-ish tall boys. The arrow hit him and his already chipped walls, crumbling that very instant. The air and his ribcage rumbled with each laugh.
When they were woken up by the teachers shouting at them through the fabric of the tent, Taesan took a look at a barely awake Leehan and thought, I want to spend my mornings with him forever.
Maybe that’s when Taesan’s heart began to beat to the same tune as Leehan’s voice.
Taesan can feel his heart sing. The night sky is beautiful, and so are the rippled reflections of the moon and stars in the waves that kiss the rocks and their legs. The sand bends under them, and there’s a heart made of shells drawn in the middle of the both of them. It’s Leehan’s artistic work. He’s drawing fishes and writing pretty words into the sand that are only temporary, soon erased by the waves that seem to try to wash Leehan away with it everytime it retreats back. To Taesan, however, Leehan is the most beautiful tonight. Way more handsome than the moon and the shells and the view. He tattoos this version of Leehan into his brain: his blonde, wispy hair tickling his cheeks as the wind caresses the both of them. The way Leehan purses his lips in concentration, almost mimicking Taesan’s own as he stares.
“Look,” Leehan nudges him with a slight smirk in his voice. He points his stick at a doodle of what seems to be a cat and a— lion? A fish-lion? Merlion? “It’s us.”
“Uh huh,” replies Taesan, not really taking in what Leehan is saying. The moonlight that highlights Leehan’s nose and cheekbones really makes his eyes shine more than usual.
“So us— d'aww. The waves washed it away. Bye, Tae-kitty.”
“Don’t say bye,” Taesan frowns, feeling a little sentimental. “You make it sound like it’s forever. You can just draw another one.”
That makes Leehan look at him, so Taesan lets him. He lets him peel him open and study him and his unspoken thoughts.
Leehan’s face morphs into one of Taesan’s favourite expressions on him. His eye crescents make an appearance again, so do the dimples, so does the laugh that bounces about in Taesan’s rib cage and so do the butterflies in his stomach. “Yeah,” He agrees, fingers making their way over to Taesan’s, careful not to disturb the shell-heart. “‘Course. I was being silly.”
Their fingers intertwine, secure and gap-less. Taesan feels his shoulders relax as Leehan nudges him a little more, until he comfortably settles, pressed against Taesan. Love smiles up at him, all pink and rosy cheeks, and Taesan feels the world is solid in the palm of his no longer trembling hands.
Taesan wonders if love will always love him back, and Leehan wipes the doubts in his head with a single kiss.