the boy on the cliff ☯

chanyeol

I wake up early, before the sun has risen, before anyone is awake. I pull my covers around me tightly and stuff my head into my pillow, but I am wide awake. There is no way I can get back to sleep now.
I hate just lying there, staring at the I ceiling. Eventually, I slip out of bed and stand on the plush carpeted floor, blinking the sleep out of my eyes and yawning, glancing over at the digital clock on my desk.
5:28 AM
I groan quietly.
It is mostly dark, with that hazy, airy light that only appears in the early morning.
I pad through the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen, my bare feet slapping almost inaudibly on the cold floor tiles.
It is colder down here, and I shiver involuntarily, goose bumps rising on my arms.
I pour myself a cup of water and lean against the wall as I drink it. My teeth clink clumsily on the glass. The water is satisfyingly cold and refreshing, and I down it in almost one gulp.
I pull my jacket off of it's hook by the door and pull it over my shoulders, wonkily pushing my feet into my trainers at the same time. I open the door.

The sand is wet from the rain and it crunches as I walk over it, towards the waves rolling lazily up the shore as the tide comes in. It is getting lighter now, and I can hear birds singing in the distance somewhere. They chirp and titter and the sound rings through the hills like a song on loudspeakers.  I love sunrises. Maybe more than sunsets. Sunsets are the end; sunrises are beginnings, beautiful and brand-new, every time.
I stop still, a few steps before the tide-line, and watch the waves turn to froth before me. The beach feels lonely, abandoned. A pile of drift wood and net and plastic has washed up by the bottom of the cliff, to my right.
I can remember sitting on the beach when I was younger, bitter and sad, jealous of the other kids splashing in the waves.
I push those memories away quickly, right into a far corner of my mind. I don't wanna think about that right now.
I kick off my trainers and my toes sink into the fine, dark sand.
I can't help myself. I roll up my pajama bottoms, wade into the sea eagerly as if it's drawing me in. It is September, and the water is numbingly chilly. I keep walking until it lapping over my knees. I can't feel my toes, but I ignore it.
I love mornings, even though my eyes ache and my limbs are sore and limp from exhaustion. My body is only ever happy when I sleep for a thousand and one hours, seriously. Trying to sleep-in in the mornings is hard, for me. Getting to sleep at night is harder.
I rarely ever come to beach, even though it is maybe a fifteen minute walk from my parent's house. I come to swim almost every day in the summer now, but it is forgotten in the winter, by me, and everyone else in the entire world. No one ventures here in the colder months. People say the waves are too rough, too cold, dangerous.
Being here when I know I shouldn't be is strangely exhilarating. Though I should probably go back home. The tide really is coming in, and if I'm not careful I will get trapped at the foot of the cliff. I turn back and start walking back up to the shore. My feet are mottled blue and purple with cold.
I pull on my trainers, not bothering to tie up the laces, and tramp back up the hill. The sun has risen now, and is shining, bright and white, just above the horizon.
I let my mind wander, no longer distracted by mind-numbing ocean. Chanyeol pops into my head almost immediately. Is he asleep? Anyone sane would be. Anyone normal. But something tells me Chanyeol is neither of those things.
He's... Sort of like me, I think. Maybe that's why I like him so much. No - "like" doesn't seem to say everything I mean. "Like" is vague, immature, playful, noncommittal. That doesn't even describe an ounce of what I feel for Chanyeol.
Its hard to think about, hard to explain.

When I get back, my parents still haven't woken. I tip-toe inside the house, closing the door quietly behind me and avoiding the spot on the landing outside my bedroom upstairs where the floorboards squeak.
The room is cloaked with sunlight now, everything illuminated.
My digital clock informs me that almost two hours have passed since I left. I hadn't realised I was out for so long.
I snap into action, getting dressed quickly, spend at least ten minutes looking for a pair of socks that actually match, and stuff the homework that I finished last night into my school bag.
The whole morning so far seems eerily disconnected from my real life.

The bell rings, loud, shrill, clear, piercing my eardrums. I collect my books, stuffing them messily into my bag, and sling one backpack strap over my shoulder. As I leave the classroom I am lost in a sea of students, all swarming to lunch. I am pushed back, jostled and shoved, squashed against lockers and other people, until I am at the back of the crowd.
When I finally get into the lunch room, the queue for food is practically a mile long. I join the end of it, sighing. My stomach grumbles loudly.
I finally get to the front. I take my tray of food and head for my usual table.
Sehun and the others are already there. I slump in my seat, throwing my tray down in front of me with a clatter, and attack my lunch hungrily.
I'm starving, and I barely notice. Only when I look up between mouthfuls, do I see.
Chanyeol is not here. 
I glance around frantically. He's not anywhere.
Disappointed.
That's all I feel. Like he's let me down.
He must be ill, I tell myself. It's not... It's just... He's too ill to come into school. Something like that.
I miss him immediately. I never realised I'd notice his absence so much. I miss the subtle stares, the smiles. I even miss the infuriated glares. I just want him here, so badly.
I can't even say why, exactly.
Like... My configuration of atoms misses his configuration of atoms?
That's literally all it can be. But it feels so much deeper and stronger than that. My heart, my soul, attached to his.
God, how soppy and lame can you get? I think. This is becoming a problem. I need to sort my brain out.
Yet it rings true. My heart hurts when he's not here. Actual, physical pain. Its as if someone has put my chest through a blender.
Sehun taps my shoulder. "Daydreaming?" He asks, leaning back in his seat. I notice I have frozen, mid-bite. When did that happen? I wonder. I didn't even realise. "I see your crush isn't here today."
On any other day, I would have spluttered or hit him or protested, or all three, but it doesn't feel like the kind of thing I can deny any more.
So, instead of freaking out, I simply say
"Mmm-hmm."

I wiggle my shoulders, trying to get my backpack to sit more comfortably across them. I'm walking along the street in the breezy late-autumn sunshine. The signs of winter are already immerging, pushing away the last traces of warmth. The fallen leaves that once crunched satisfactorily under my feet are turning to brown mush on the pavement.
Ahead of me, I see a dark, lanky figure sitting on the wall. There is notebook is in his hands.
It only takes a few seconds for the information to click into place.
It's Chanyeol.
I can feel my heart in my throat.
I can't walk past him. I don't want to. No.
I want to cross to the other side of the street, but he'll notice. I can't do that. It'll be awkward.
Reluctantly, I keep walking forward, and do the only thing I know how to around Chanyeol.
Look away like I don't realise he is there.
I'm a few metres away when he lifts his head and notices me. I stare at my shoes, still walking toward him.
My cheeks are warm, I can hear my own heartbeat.
And then I've passed him. I realise I was holding my breath. I exhale through my mouth slowly.
"Hi."
I almost have a heart attack. I swivel my head back.
Chanyeol is looking at me attentively. He closes his notebook and puts it down on the wall beside him.
"Hi." He repeats softly.
"Oh.. Hi." I reply. It comes out barely a whisper.
"Erm.. I.." I continue. "I really need to get home." I turn back round a little, but Chanyeol reaches forward and grabs my sleeve tightly.
"No, wait." He tells me. "You saved my ass on that cliff. I don't care if it's cliche, do you wanna go for a coffee?"
My face currently feels equivalent to the sun. How red must I look?
"I..."
"Cool." Chanyeol cuts me off, jumping down from the wall and unzipping his backpack to squash in his notebook.
He starts walking down the road in the opposite direction that I was going. I am frozen to the spot, dazed, mesmerised.
When Chanyeol is a few paces away he turns back.
"Coming?" He enquires.
I nod frantically and fast-walk up to him. Our feet fall into step with each other, synchronising.
"Where do you want to go, then?" He asks. "I never go there but... D'you like Starbucks?"
"I, um... Sorry. I don't really... Like coffee?" I say tentatively, fiddling with my bag strap just for something to do with my hands.
"How can you not like coffee?" Chanyeol shakes his head disbelievingly.
"Okay." He concedes. "Milkshakes, then"