DING.

It's warm. And cold at the same time. The wind chime echoes in the breeze. Everything is so quiet that I hear the waves crashing on the beach. It's so quiet that I hear my heartbeat.

 

Ket withdraws his soft lips, leaving only this uncertain feeling. My wrists hurt in his tight grip, though it's not as painful as the hundreds of needles piercing my chest. Ket kissed me.

 

"Why?"

 

My voice is mistakenly quivering, but nothing is more interesting than his answer.

Why? Why did he kiss me? What for?

 

"Because you made that face. I thought I'd regret it if I didn't kiss you now."

 

I yank my wrists off his grip. The aggressive reaction startles Ket. Shouldn't I be the one startled? Why? We no longer have feelings for each other. That wasn't supposed to happen.

 

"I want to throw up."

 

I sweep my stuff into my arms and run upstairs to my room in awkwardness. I feel like crying, but tears won't come out. Even though it hurts so much, my heart races the way it's never done before. Why...my heart? Is it betraying my memories?

 

"You don't look well."

 

Mi is the first to greet me when I arrive. I sink into my regular chair and lay my head on the table in exhaustion.

 

Despite the recent pile of work, I haven't figured out what to do with the contest. The due date is approaching. While the others have started coming up with ideas and working on them, my mind is occupied with that jerk. The kiss yesterday says a lot.

 

One, he messed with me on purpose. Two, he humiliated me on purpose. Three, he got on my nerves on purpose. Four..he still has feelings for me.

 

That piece of shit enters the room right at that second. I turn away from Ket and gaze out the window. The evening sky is beautiful, but it misses something.

"Are you fighting?" The Daisy girl looks down at me. Why? I think I'm hiding it well, yet this girl can always tell. Mi looks different today. Her Hello Kitty clips are gone. Is her hair slightly shorter?

 

Ket is not the case. It's been ages since we saw each other. His hair is longer than it was back then. He seems more mature and reliable now, unlike the feeble boy before.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

Someone hits my arm with a paper roll. I was spacing out, absentmindedly touching the tip of Mi's hair. I let go of the lock of Mi's light brown hair to fall by gravity and glance up at the scowling face.

 

"None of your business."

 

"Fou told me to ask you if you have an idea for the contest."

 

Oh. Had I thought of it, I wouldn't have been stressed out like this.

 

"Tell me if you don't want to participate," says the club president from the table in the corner of the room. My eyes sparkle. He's like the light at the end of the tunnel. Fou is turning into an angel.

 

"Real..."

 

"Tell me and pack up. Get the hell away from me!"

 

Fuck you, Fou. I thought you were kind!

 

"If you don't have any idea, why don't you ask the other members? This is not a solo contest. It will be the art club's pride. Do you want our club to be closed without doing anything?"

 

The club president complains and leaves with Aun. I feel a little guilty. Well, that's why I accept. Fou.

 

There are benefits to the art club being unpopular. For example, it's not crowded. It's quiet and peaceful, a perfect relaxation after classes. Regardless, there are multiple flaws. Due to the small number of members, we have fewer paintings and make less money, which leads to a low budget for holding events. Without events, not many people know us. The circle repeats. The club is dying silently.

 

As the club president has pointed out, the contest is crucial to the club's well-being. As a freshman, I once thought, 'Why do I have to care about this silly thing? So what if the club is closed?  It wouldn't affect me.' But when I started my second year, things changed. 

 

The closer I got to Fou, the more I learned about this guy. I've accepted him to this day. Fou's work won the third prize last year. He failed to secure the first prize because he used plastic, which causes pollution. People even badmouthed him, saying he couldn't think better and that he was incompetent, though his work helped remove nearly half of the plastic bottles from the university. 

 

When people criticise, they don't care about your effort. If they disagree, they will spout ugly remarks to hurt others. Fou has always felt awful for failing to level up our club to that point.

 

If this is Fou's resolution... I'll work hard for him. I don't want to switch to another club. This club is the best. 

 

You can take a nap whenever you want. You can paint anytime you wish in an air-conditioned room with peaceful music.

 

"I'll help you," Mi says with a clear voice.

 

"How? Have you finished yours?"

 

"I won't participate in the contest."

 

"Oh."

 

"As I've said, I have my own projects. I don't have time for it. Let me help you."

 

I see petals floating around her. Wait, have I spent too much time with her? It feels like I live in a shoujo anime world.

 

"I also want to help you."

 

The bunches of flowers are instantly replaced with lightning and thunder. I turn around and glare at Ket. Now that I see his face, the kiss yesterday flashes in my mind. Both my cheeks are burning, and I turn away so fast my neck almost gets stiff.

 

"That'd be unnecessary." I don't need someone who draws a stick man.

 

"I think it'll be great if Ket joins us. Have you heard the saying, 'A friend in need!*

 

"is a dead friend."

 

"Eh? Why?"

 

Because I'll strangle him.

 

"Well. You wouldn't have looked at Ket earlier. Did you fight?"

 

"No."

 

I lay my head in the crook of my arms on the table. I don't want to see anyone right now.

 

"Don't do that. You two are friends. You must unite!"

 

The Daisy girl pulls my hand with her tiny palm and puts it on the hand of the man in front of me. I have no choice but to look up at those dark brown eyes that suddenly feel more dangerous. The longer he holds my gaze, the more flustered I am.

 

I yank my hand back and hold it tightly as if to comfort my own palm after being forced to touch someone else's skin. His skin isn't as soft as before. It feels different. It feels firm, unlike the seemingly easily sunburnt sensitive skin back then.

 

No. This is not the time to think about skin!

 

Ket settles in a chair before me. Those dark brown eyes staring back are similar to those of someone I can't pinpoint. I turn away from the emotionless gaze, feeling shaken. Why is he looking at me? Can't he look at something else?

 

My heart, closed for two years, isn't ready for anything like this. We call a truce in Mi's presence, not wishing to have the girl worry about a silly problem. I have to compose myself, holding it in as much as possible.

"Kieng, you need to decide on the subject of your painting," Mi starts.

 

I attempt to think of that, but Ket's stare makes it more difficult.

 

"We can't use anime characters for the contest."

 

"But Kieng might pull it off."

 

No. I don't know how to draw anime characters.

 

"Should we ask Fou? But he only paints flowers."

 

Right. Since it's an applied art, we need to make use of objects around us.

 

"What objects can we use?"

 

What can I use?

 

"We can make paints from flowers," Mi suggests.

 

Right. But they won't be able to tell that the colours are made from flowers.

 

"It's hard to tell. We need something obvious."

 

Mmmm.

 

"Should we carve? Handcraft?"

 

No way. I don't possess those skills.

 

"What about body art?"

 

Is he crazy?

 

"For example.."

 

Ket touches my forehead all of a sudden. I jump and pull back in an instant. What...What was that? Why did he suddenly touch someone else's forehead?!

 

"Are you sick?" asks the person who is unbothered about touching others. I'm not sick or anything. I just feel uncomfortable being stared at.

"No."

 

"But your face is red, Kieng," Mi says.

 

"R_Really?"

 

Ba-dump.

My pounding heart indicates that everything that will happen after this is going to get worse and worse. I meet Ket's eyes again. Those serene eyes are a storm threatening to attack if I say something wrong.

 

"Why don't you go to the nurse's office? Your skin feels hot."

 

"I said I'm fine."

Ba-dump.

 

My face is burning.

 

"Kieng."

 

Ba-dump.

Can you stop staring at me?!

 

Unable to take it, I grab my backpack and make a run for it. I don't know where I'm headed, but I'll go as far as possible. Anywhere without Ket. Anywhere without being stared at like that. It felt uncomfortable. It felt all uncomfortable.

 

"Wait.'

His soft lips touch my forehead down to my eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin, and everywhere except my lips.

 

'Ket.'

 

It happened in the rainy season, the day I went to Ket's place when his parents weren't home. I still remember the smell of the rain that day. The sound of the rain hitting the window drowned out my panting. His wet lips caressed my neck, nibbling and going back up.

 

'You're cute.'

 

I couldn't argue against that clear voice, shutting my eyes. He touched my lips with those long fingers I loved to look at unconsciously. His thumb felt my lips, playfully trying to push in many times, yet continuing to circle them as if teasing me.

 

It worked. My body resisted the touch of others. Not many were allowed to touch me. I didn't mind if it was unintentional. That didn't apply to the boy in front of me. I couldn't resist his touch.

 

Those soft lips gently touched mine after he played with them to his heart's content.

I remember that day. I remember the touch that day. Ket's palms were cold, like the drizzle outside, yet they burnt every inch of my body as if he were a blaze.

 

'Ket.'

 

"Caught you."

 

Ket seizes my wrist, and I shake it off. I pant next to the building, my heart still racing from the flashback and this jerk's uncomfortable stare.

 

"Why did you follow me?"

 

"Mi was worried you would faint while running."

 

"I'm fine."

 

I lean against the wall and gasp for air like crazy, glancing at the guy following me—that frustrating height.

 

The skin that's no longer sensitive to sunlight. The facial structure is visibly sharper than it was back then. The muscles he somehow built up... The lips that...burn someone else's body. I hate you.

 

"I'm going home."

 

"Why are you avoiding me?"

 

I halt midway. Right. Why am I avoiding him? I have no feelings for him anymore, right?

 

"I'm leaving."

 

Despite that, I can't move because he's in the way. I drop my gaze to my shoes, a few centimetres away from his. Does he still like wearing sneakers? I hate sneakers. They're uncomfortable.

 

"Kieng." I hate his voice when he presses for an answer. It's brusque, with no hint of gentleness.

 

"Leave me alone."

 

"Kieng."

 

Ket's hands hold mine. These hands used to be sensitive and get cold during the rain. How can they be so warm right now?

 

"Kieng."

 

"Why the hell are you calling me?"

 

"Can I kiss you?"

 

Not waiting for permission, Ket lifts my chin for a better view and presses his lips against mine. Shock rushes up my brain to order me to push him away, but my body refuses.

 

A gentle kiss, not forceful, not aggressive, nothing more than that. Come to think of it, I've just realised we have these beautiful pink flowers in the university. A trumpet tree...? The flowers look like cherry blossoms.

 

What about this smell? The flowers? No. It's not from the flowers. It's the perfume of the man before me.

 

Ket withdraws his soft lips, leaving only a faint warmth. He feels my lips with his thumb, just like before. Why is it... so hot?

 

"Why did you do such a thing?"

 

My racing heart and the discomfort in my heart form into a raincloud over my head again.

 

"Because you made this face."

 

Those long fingers and large hands cup my face, touching my cheeks and ears. He caresses my face with his thumbs, gently, cherishing me.

 

Please don't do this.

 

Ket presses his lips on mine again in desire.

But hidden under the desire is an inaudible pain. Did he forget?

 

We...

We can never be the same.

Why do I have to keep repeating it?

What is he thinking?

Why does he keep doing something ridiculous like this?

 

Ket stares into the other man's beautiful eyes. Those dark brown eyes spark in the light orange evening light. His fair skin is soaked in sweat as the heat paints his face crimson. The longer he holds the other man's eyes, the redder his cheeks get. Looking at them in the orange light like this makes Ket's heart drum. 

 

Is this why he loves art? Because of this perfectly matched beauty? He understands now why this man dislikes science.

 

This man has always been like this since they first met. Even though he's gotten older, more stubborn, and stronger, it's all an illusion. Even though he's fragile, gentle, kind, and warm, how come those lips that used to crack a smile every time they saw each other have been replaced with a scowl with no gentleness left?

 

Even though their lips touch over and over, even though the man who has always resisted it is standing still in submission, even if those soft lips are slightly parted as if inviting him in...The heat exuding from his body...Even though his body reacts the same as before, without lying even once...

 

Even though Ket wants to kiss him so much, why is it terribly painful every time their lips touch? Is that why he keeps pushing him away? Is that why? Is that why he's never accepted that their relationship is never over?

 

It's painful to the point he never wishes to get back together with him, right? Is that why?

 

Kiengdao.

 

"I'm leaving."

 

Kieng says bluntly and runs off. The smell of his shampoo still lingers. Ket has to accept it because he's the one choosing to come back. No matter how hurt he felt when alone, it's more painful now that he's found Kieng.

 

Is it because they can never be the same?

 

The breeze blows the pink flowers from the trees. One of them falls on the palm, uncurling to hold it gently. It looks like a cherry blossom.

 

Trees will shed leaves one day. But even if they have no leaf left, no colour, dry and lifeless, everything will grow again someday. Will their relationship be like that? Or will it die with a zero chance to start anew?

 

Ket gazes at the horizon. The sun is setting. The pinkish orange evening light feels lonely. This is why he isn't a fan of the sky like this—the sky without stars.