Pucker Up, Buttercup | Jaeyong

m o d e s t

Detention. Are there any words to describe it? In this school? There are many word's, but just using one would never explain what it is really like. I suppose I am being dramatic. I have never been sent to, or been inside of a detention classroom, neither have I ever been in trouble. This is the first, I am definitely not proud of it. Plus, I wish to mention that this detention was hardly fair. I got put inside of this white box made of four brick walls because I simply had a very small anxiety attack. Anxiety attacks happen, - they can happen to anyone. So how can this be fair? It's like a mental prison. And Jaehyun is innocent! He only tried to help me, but, here he is again, unliked by teachers, being thrown into this room - consistantly. Yes, maybe I have become more biased towards Jaehyun - but he actually put in the effort when I was upset.

I am beginning to become more confident.

Maybe I lied. I am not confident by any means, I am actually the least confident person, in this school and probably the entire village.

"Taeyong." Jaehyun called my name, his voiced echoed coldly throughout the almost empty, white room, bouncing off of the walls and directly into my ears. We have been sitting in silence for fourty-two minutes, my back is beginning to ache - begging for any form of movement, but instructions say we must sit in silence... And not move. We already broke the first rule, so I shift in my seat to look at him. I know we're alone, so saying something won't hurt me... But I still prefer being quiet, he might cut off my tongue if I open my mouth. "We're alone, aren't we?" The grin on his face says it all, now I regret ever calling him a good student - he appears to be breaking that title by standing up and leaning his hands and arms onto my desk, looking directly at me. What is he doing? I really don't know. But, I still nod my head at him, double-checking the window on the door just in case. "Lean close to me, okay?" I do it, then I know what he's about to do.

He's hoping to kiss me again, as if he thinks I am dumbfounded to it still.

Despite me not really knowing the full reason as to why he has urges to connect mouths with me, as he had done it three times yesterday, I still find this whole kissing thing just as entertaining as he does. This whole situation between us, it's amusing, maybe even accelerating, it makes my blood plump more quicker - which is of course, healthy. He's doing me a favour. This is just a fun way of making your heart healthy, right?

Then he becomes still, like the unmoving water in his plastic bottle, sitting a metre in front of me, on his desk. The water is untouched, fresh and probably warming up in the summer heat - this room lacks air-conditioning. "Want to play a game?" He asks me, when we are just gazing at each other again, thankfully it's not an awkward gaze, or I would probably die from it! "We sneak out, and I take you to the dance studio. How's that? You like dancing, don't you?" He messages his cheek as he speaks to me, which is something that is not very common.

I nod my head.

Immediately, the game has commenced.

After a few moments of Jaehyun picking the lock with a paperclip, a skill I find scarcely gratifying to witness, we soon find ourselves hand-in-hand, as if we have done it thousands of times before. I have never ever held somebody's else's hand. Not even once. At least, that's what my memory tells me. Maybe me and my sister held hands once. Frankly, I am jealous of his soft palm that rests in my own, at the same time I am sorry to it: because my own hand is sweaty, gross. He doesn't seem to mind, actually, which takes me by surprise. I like him... Walking with him like this, in this thrilling moment, is like playing cards with the devil, because we both are aware that we are breaking many of the school rules as we do this - and we may even get suspended from school if we get caught.

The dance studio is empty when he drags my sorry ass inside of it. I can hear his almost silent breaths, fast and ever-so-slightly heavy. Then, my blurry vision then focuses on his charming face. To describe that face, it is very difficult, because I have never seen someone look at me this way before. It's as if I my gaze is set on a huge cinema screen, upon it, is a view of a famous actor's face, a very handsome actor too, and he smiles through the windows of his soul as he closes his mouth in serenity, he catches the light that crept through the gaps in the certains, it highlights the edges of his face in an excellent way, he absorbs all of the energy. He opens his mouth again, to say something, but then he pauses - just for a split moment I believed that he actually felt the same way about me looking at him, but I decided not to believe that, even though he must be. I am self-conscious, and amongst my insecurities lies love as well. I never thought I was philophobic, no, not until now. "We won the game," He says, a smile etched into his skin, but it only lasted a few seconds until he spoke again "Now all you have to do is dance."

He must be joking. I have never danced in my life! That means I could never be good at it. I frown, removing my hand from his, to then grasp and squeeze at the uniform grey trousers that I wear on a daily basis. I want to say something to him, anything, but I can't, it feels as if someone has sewn my lips together.

"I won't judge you, I know you like it. You're allowed to dance just like the other's." For some strange reason he does not sound cringe worthy when he says those words, but instead as if he is playing an outgoing character in a Broadway theatre. "All you do is watch other people, you need to start making other people watch you. Like I do." I immediately feel my heart picking up speed, it's as if he knows how to make me embarrassed, and he enjoys it, he enjoys seeing me turn pink, like a blooming in spring - tulip. Perhaps it's more red. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me into him, for a hug. I realise this is just what I have wanted all of this time, a hug, I have not had one of those for a while, it makes me feel relieved and safe, like nobody else can touch me. It's the sort of hug where you can feel the latter's hand's gently stroking your torso, and their breath on your neck. "Thank you," he whispers, he whispered it in such alow tone that I believe that it might not be meant to be heard. Why is he thanking me? I don't understand what I have done to earn this gratitude from him.

Jaehyun is the one to pull us apart. Therefore, I am devastated. I was enjoying that warmth and comforting feeling I felt as we hugged one another.

Before I know it and can process it, he surprisingly begins giggling, well, not like a five year old, but he's giggling. I don't understand what is funny. But then, I realise that he was strolling through his phone, until music started playing from it. The music was the sort of music that you would commonly hear on the radio. I soon realise that this source of sound is intended for me to dance to, or at least it is there to inspire me to. "Close your eyes." He then says as he place's his phone on the table positioned beside the massive mirror wall, after he approaches me again.

I hesitate, but end up closing my eye's for him. I would usually never do this, even if a stranger paid me hundreds. The trust must be genuine. I imagine that I must look awkward in front of him. Eyes closed, messy hair and uniform due to the running and silly business, I also have a skinny figure which makes the uniform look too big, my bag is dangling from my fingertips, digging into my skin and turning them white from the pressure. I eventually drop my heavy bag, which is much more loud in this silence. As I wait for something to happen.

Nothing happens for a while. So I peek one of my two eye's open and look left and right, I see nothing in front of me or around, my heart plummets- "I told you to keep them closed!" My heart then is immediately revived from that short awful feeling, as I know he is still here, and I nervously but swiftly snap my eye to a close again. "Dance to the music." he tells me.

I stifle my breath.

I really want to.