beautiful past | x.mh

{2.6}

since he
        sat in front,
        he would sometimes,
        took steps back,
        and sat down
        in front of me.

        I was a bookworm,
        and books were always,
        with me.

        he would ask,
        “what does it tell about?”
        then he would hold it,
        flipping through the pages,
        while I explained,
        and he would read,
        the synopsis,
        as we talked about the content.

        every morning,
        around 6: 30
        or more,
        I usually slept,
        with my head on the table,
        and he would again,
        sat in front of me,
        either talk about things,
        or teased me.

        he would knock on the table,
        and whenever
        I lifted my head,  
        he did the same position,
        as I did,
        and acted as if he was asleep.
      
       “you snore while sleeping,”
       he said
       before gesturing a circle
       at his chin,
       “there's a drool dripping.”
       and he made a disgusted look.

       “bugger off, minghao.
       I need some sleep,”
       I smacked his shoulder
       with my hand.

       he laughed,
       “what were you doing
       last night?”

        I ignored him,
        and continued to sleep.