t h i r t y - s i x

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If you enjoy Chinese songs, you can check out the song attached to the chapter :3

* * *

If I had my life to live again, I'd find you sooner.

* * *

Three knocks.

The blond patiently waited on the other side of the threshold, ice-calm.

Well, not exactly.

His mind was running a hundred miles per second, juggling between questions for which he was unable to respond to at that moment.

J-just what am I doing here?

Is he inside? What if h-he's with a girl again?

Ugh, and I'm awkward as ever! T-this was a terrible idea...

Sage indecisively pulled the hood of his sweatshirt back and forward, eager for any distraction to the predicament he found himself in;

Standing before Xander's door.

His mind went back to the last time he did something similar, which ended up with a discrepant meeting with a pissed Xander. However, shaking those thoughts from his head, he focused on the present.

There was no response.

Sage's hand coiled back in a fist as he lifted it to the door again, but halfway, he stopped.

Should I knock again?

What if he's sleeping, or doing homework?

Xander wasn't at school today, so could he really have homework?

P-probably, I don't know! I heard t-that senior year is tough.

After waiting for a few more minutes, Sage's hope became deflated, and reality returned to him.

Just because we ... doesn't mean I can come here now.

X-Xander probably doesn't even want to see me anymore, right?


Sage disliked the aching in his heart as he turned with the intention of heading back down the hall. His plan never came to pass, however, as he froze when he heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Thinking it was his mother, Sage braced himself for the lecture he would receive, and later, landing himself an overdue two-week grounded period just like the other time Cecilia witnessed him cuddling with Xander.

Air didn't flow into Sage's lungs anymore-

In the instance blue eyes found their way to his.

And suddenly, Sage's sense of purpose completely evaporated.

W-what am I doing here?

Internally, he chastised himself for standing there like an idiot when he could have easily ducked and hid in the bathroom. That way, he would dodge the bullet of awkwardness associated with seeing Xander, and the imminent recollection of crying before him, then, kissing him.

Then, of course, ripping himself away, then running off like a headless chicken.

Xander was as cool as a cucumber as he closed the distance, just enough so he could look at Sage.

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