🎶And when the sun goes down, we'll meet up by the bonfire. Baby, the moon's gon'be crazy cause I think I'm in love with you🎶
~Peder Elias x Cha eun woo~
DOVE 🕊
I received the phone from the chairman, and I was surprised by how expensive it was. Why did she have to buy such a pricey phone? I tried calling her, but she wasn't answering, so I sent a text instead. I was worried about Nana, as she had been ignoring my calls for days. I hoped everything was okay.
When I couldn't reach Xavier either, my concerns shifted to him. I kept trying until someone finally picked up, but it wasn't him. The person on the other end said Xavier wasn't feeling well, and the fact that he wasn't answering himself suggested he was really unwell. My worries about Nana momentarily took a backseat as I became increasingly concerned about Xavier's health. I wished I could visit him and hoped he was recovering well. I was really g worried.
I was still getting used to my new phone and its features when I received a notice from the matron telling me to move back to my old dorm. It wasn't a regular room assignment, since I was the only one being moved. But I was thrilled to be leaving the toxic environment behind and starting fresh.
I wanted to share my excitement with Xavier, but he was dealing with health issues and couldn't visit. It made me emotional, and I felt tears welling up. Elaila noticed my distress and said, "You were never in your room, so it was hard to find you. I had to put up with that bitch Celine all the time." I completely agreed; Celine was a constant pain. While I was grateful to be back in my old dorm, I knew it wasn't just a coincidence that I was moved back.
"Hey, there's a party tomorrow," Mal said, her tone firm and unyielding. "And you're coming with us, no questions asked." She'd clearly thought this through, and I was impressed despite myself. "We've even got your outfit covered, so don't bother trying to wriggle out of it." I laughed, acknowledging defeat, and asked, "What time are we heading out?" Mal replied, "The party starts at 1 p.m., but the real fun begins at 7, so we'll roll in then." I raised an eyebrow, wondering why we were starting so late, but Mal seemed to have a plan.
Well, just in a few hours, Ela had some study group meetings, so she left. Shocker. Ela never really cared about school. And Mal just had to go see a friend, and they were both going to come back late.
It was now midnight, and I was wide awake, so I stepped outside and settled into one of the garden chairs. This area was always buzzing with activity, even at this late hour. Students milled about, and I found comfort in their presence.
With my pencils and diary in hand, I began to sketch, but my mind wandered. The pencil in my hand hovered, leaving a small black mark on the page as I pondered what to draw. Meanwhile, my thoughts screamed Xavier's name, and I couldn't ignore it any longer.
I was consumed by him, and I knew it. It was unrequited love, and I didn't care. His face was etched in my mind, and a single glance from him could make me smile. I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted him.
I took almost an hour thinking about him and drawing circles on my page.
Tell me how much you like me, heaven's bird, and I promise to make you come.
The words suddenly echoed in my head, and I froze at it. That was insane. I
was ruined. I was so ruined. I held my pencil up straight, ready to start drawing when I felt a figure sit right next to me. If I was alone outside, I would have screamed for dear life, but people were still hanging out, so it could be anyone. But people also get kidnapped in broad daylight with a crowd around. In fact, I think kidnapping in that way is easier.
"Hey, heaven's bird." I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I heard his deep voice. I looked up to see Xavier sitting beside me, wearing a blue hoodie and sporting a bandaged head and left hand. I was taken aback, my excitement at seeing him tempered by concern for his well-being. "So, you moved back?" he asked, his eyes scanning our surroundings before returning to mine. I was stunned, my mind racing with questions. What was he doing here in this condition? What had happened to him?
"What?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice, as he noticed my intense stare. "What happened to you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't believe he was sitting in front of me, especially after the torrent of thoughts about him that had just flooded my mind.
"Some racist fucker attacked me," he said nonchalantly, his tone betraying a hint of underlying pain. Xavier nodded slowly, his eyes blinking with a softness that belied his usual confidence. His voice was too soft, lacking its usual depth, and I sensed he was still hurting.
"Why?" I pressed, my concern growing.
"Because he's racist," he sighed, his words laced with a weariness that unsettled me.
I was bothered, scared, and very much mindful of the situation. "What are you doing here?" I asked, glancing at my apple green wristwatch. It was almost 3 a.m.! How had I been outside for so long?
"I heard you called," he said, his eyes locked on mine.
"So you had to come here?" I asked, incredulous.
"Yes," he replied, his voice gentle. "Mostly because I missed you."
He was reading my mind again, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I missed him too, but admitting it was harder for me than it seemed for him. As he spoke, my heart raced with a rhythm that went "bi di da dam boodup." I hoped my face wasn't betraying my inner turmoil, turning bright red like a tomato.
"Still, you shouldn't have come," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I wanted to see you, I just had to come," he replied, his words sending a flutter through my chest. I tried to temper my hopes, but his tone suggested a mutual interest that I dared not believe.
"Why are you drawing outside? Is that a hand?" he asked, his eyes scanning the page. I followed his gaze and realized I had indeed started drawing, as if in a trance. The hand was unmistakably his.
"Uhmm, I... I'm not sure," I stammered, my face growing hot. I tried to close the diary, but instead, I flipped to a page I wished to keep hidden. The drawings there were the ones that earned me weird looks from others. "Oh dear," I muttered, shutting the diary awkwardly.
"What was that?" Xavier asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Just... it's just some sketch. It's not that good," I said, trying to downplay it.
"I liked it. Can I see?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest. I was taken aback - he had seen it that quickly? My heart raced as I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to show that to him.
I couldn't let him see my diary. No, it was too personal, filled with weird drawings, my innermost feelings, and unresolved trauma. I couldn't risk him seeing that side of me, fearing he'd distance himself from me.
"Please," he said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hmm?" he asked, his cheek resting on his hands as he gazed at me.
"I don't think you'd like anything you see in here," I said, trying to dissuade him. I would have shown him the specific page, but I had no idea where it was, and flipping through the pages would only reveal more of my inner world.
"Why?" he asked, his interest piqued.
"They're weird," I said, trying to downplay it.
"I like weird stuff," he countered, his smile disarming.
"Why aren't you inside?" he asked, his gaze piercing.
"Mal and Ela aren't there," I replied.
"Come to mine, then," he suggested.
"Aren't you going home?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice. He was injured, after all, and needed rest.
"You're chasing me away again?" He laughed softly, his head still resting on the table. The way he was looking at me from that angle made me uncomfortable, to say the least.
"No..." I trailed off, trying to sound convincing.
"Let's go. Let me just put this inside," I said, trying to make a quick escape.
But he was one step ahead. "Let me have the diary," he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I had no choice but to hand it over, feeling a sense of trepidation as I did so.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, trying to confirm as we walked to his dorm. Xavier nodded, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Xavier?" I pressed, my concern growing. "Dove, you care too much. I'm fine," he said, his voice reassuring.
"I can't help it," I admitted.
As he inserted his key into the lock and opened the door, he gestured for me to enter first. I stepped inside, feeling a familiar sense of comfort and happiness wash over me. Despite my racing heart and lingering unease, I couldn't help but enjoy being in his presence.
I settled onto his couch, trying my best not to stare at him as he removed his hoodie. But when his back was turned, I couldn't resist sneaking a glance. That's when I saw it - the drawing I had done on his back, now a permanent tattoo. The ink was darker and more vibrant than I remembered, and my signature was still visible. I felt a gasp rising up, but I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, suppressing the sound.
"Did you tattoo my drawing?" I asked, clearing my throat.
"Yeah," he replied, turning to face me with a smile. "All of them."
My heart skipped a beat - or several. "I told you I liked them," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I couldn't explain why my hands were shaking or why I felt like I was about to burst with excitement. "Don't they look good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
"They do," I responded quickly, my voice barely above a whisper. The tattoos looked amazing, and I couldn't help but admire his bold move.
"Come," he called, beckoning me to join him on his bed.
My diary was in his hand, and I was anxious to see him open it. I wanted to snatch it from him, but that would be too awkward. So, I tried to divert his attention. "I received my phone, and you were the first person I called," I said, attempting to steer him away from my drawings.
But Xavier was adept at multitasking. "Really?" He glanced at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Do you like it?" He asked, referring to the phone.
"I think it's too expensive... not like I don't like it, I just feel like she shouldn't have used so much," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Xavier chuckled. "What?" He asked, his eyes fixed on a drawing I had done during my melancholic phase. It depicted a girl handing her bleeding heart to a hand, symbolizing her surrender to Jesus.
"Is this girl you?" He asked, his gaze piercing.
"Hm?" I hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
"The girl... is she you?" He pressed, his eyes locked on mine.
"There's always meaning to art like this," He stated, his voice filled with understanding.
I nodded, unable to deny the truth. "Yes," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. It was hard to lie to him; he seemed to see right through me.
He nodded and turned to the next page, his silence sparking my curiosity. What was he thinking? The next drawing showed a girl's face, tears streaming from her eye. I cringed, remembering my melancholic phase. Why did I give him the diary?
I bit my nails nervously. "Do you mind not reading any words you see in there?"
"Not at all," he replied, his eyes still scanning the pages.
"Everything in here is amusingly good," he said, his tone genuine. Not weird? I thought, surprised.
"I bet this is you here, too," he said, pointing to a drawing of a girl sitting in the dark, her head buried in her knees.
"I'm not good at drawing, but I'm quite good at reading art," he said, his eyes understanding.
He flipped through more drawings, surprisingly enjoying them. But when we reached the part where it was all about him, I panicked. "Is this..." he started to say, but I grabbed the book, trying to hide my guilt.
He swiftly grabbed it back, his eyes locked on mine. "Xavier," I said, trying to sound calm, but my voice betrayed me. It was just a drawing of eyes, but my reaction was incriminating. I didn't even let him finish his sentence, my guilt evident.
"I didn't finish my sentence, but from your awkwardness, these must be mine," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"No," I denied, trying to sound convincing.
"Why do they look so good on paper?" he asked, his tone playful.
"Because they aren't yours," I lied, trying to deflect. "He's my favorite K-pop idol."
"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," I nodded, trying to maintain the charade.
But he wasn't buying it. "What's his name?" he pressed, his eyes locked on mine.
"Huh?" I stalled, trying to think of a name.
"You heard me," he said, his voice firm but playful.
"Uhm, Cha Eun-woo," I muttered, hoping he wouldn't notice my hesitation. He was one of my favorite K-pop artists.
"He's also an actor," I added, trying to divert attention.
But Xavier wasn't having it. "Sing one of his songs," he demanded, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Why?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.
"Because he's your favorite," he said, his tone teasing.
I giggled, trying to play along. "Why do you sound like that?" I asked, trying to deflect.
But he just shifted his eyes back to the page, his expression playful. "I thought I was your favorite," he said, his voice dramatic.
I knew he was just teasing, but I couldn't help feeling a flutter in my chest. He was my favorite, and I couldn't deny it.
"But I still want to hear you sing a song of his, even if it's just a short part," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Okay, just a short part." He nodded. I cleared my throat for the short part. "🎼I'm so weak, don't leave me, I want you here with me, I know that your love is gone... I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy. Don't tell me that your love is gone. That your love is gone🎼."
I paused and met Xavier's gaze, his eyes already locked on mine. His intense stare made my heart race, and I felt a flutter in my chest.
"Any other song," he said, his voice low and husky, before clearing his throat. "Make it long."
"By him?" Xavier hummed, his eyes still fixed on mine.
I wasn't shy about singing around him anymore; in fact, I felt quite free with him. But there were moments when he made me feel uncomfortable, like now.
"You sound like you don't like him," I teased, trying to deflect.
"I love to hear you sing," he replied, his voice sincere.
"I can't sing his other songs because they're in Korean," I admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious.
"Oh, let me sing 'Bonfire', the cover he did with Peder Elias," I suggested, trying to find an alternative.
"Okay," Xavier agreed, his eyes never leaving mine.
I smiled, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
"🎼Hit me up. I'll come and get you at the train station. Head down the 405. Two o'clock I drop you off down at your grandparents. I park my car, say hi... And baby, tonight we'll have a good time. Forget all our troubles, close our eyes and let go. I don't mind if we get our drinks on. Your mama may not like it, but I sure as he'll will.
And when the sun goes down, we'll meet up by the bonfire. Baby, the moon's gon'be crazy, Cause I think I'm in love with you. Gather all of your friends, bring a bottle of gin, make the neighbours go mad just doing what we do.
We'll be dancing to songs from the old days. Swing from the trees. Bend over rules cause we just love how it feels.
By the bonfire, baby the moon's gon'be crazy, Cause I think I'm in love with you.
Morning come, we'll swim away all of our hangovers and wash our sins away. Driving home, I let you DJ in my Range Rover. Oh man, I love this place.... 🎼"
When I finished singing, I found Xavier gazing at me with an intense, soft-eyed stare. I swallowed hard, my heart racing. "What's wrong?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I want to kiss you," he replied, his words direct and sincere.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his eyes seeking permission.
I pressed my lips together, my mind racing. Wasn't this too sudden? Too weird? I nodded, despite my reservations. Gosh, wasn't I too easy? Too desperate? But I couldn't help myself. I was desperate, and I couldn't stop myself from wanting him.
As his face drew closer to mine, my teeth almost chattered with nervousness. I curled my toes in panic, feeling like I did the first time he kissed me. I was nervous then, and I was still nervous now. But I couldn't resist the pull between us.
His lips finally met mine, and the familiar sensation washed over me. Each time he kissed me, it was a new experience. This time, it was slow and deliberate, building in intensity with every passing second. He wasn't gentle or soft; his lips were passionate and demanding. Within moments, he was hovering over me, his lips burning against mine in a sensual caress. I couldn't remain passive; I kissed him back, my hands instinctively cupping his face.
His soft tongue traced the contours of my lips, and I opened my mouth, inviting him in. It was a little strange at first, but I decided to follow his lead. Our tongues glided against each other, intertwining in a rhythmic dance. To my surprise, I got it right, and I loved it. The kiss was so intense that my body began to ache. My hand wandered to his soft hair, and I tugged on it gently, feeling the burning desire within me. I couldn't take it; my body craved something more, but I couldn't allow it – not yet, at least.
I was reluctant to pull away, but my body was overwhelmed. It was like being told to leave a place you love, like Disneyland, or being forced to stop playing when you're still having the time of your life. My body was trembling with desire, and I had to muster the strength to stop. I placed my hand on his chest and gently pushed him away. He instantly broke off the kiss, looking at me with a hint of surprise. My chest was heaving, and I struggled to catch my breath. My breathing kept hitching, and I felt like I was going to collapse.
"What happened?" he asked, chuckling amusedly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I gazed at him in silence for a moment, my desire still burning. Could I reveal my true feelings? His loose hair hung between us, and his jaw clenched slightly. "Didn't you like it?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
"I did," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, my words tumbling out without pause.
I chuckled at the desperation in my tone, feeling a little embarrassed. Oh my, Xavier lay beside me, his hair draping over his forehead, almost reaching his eyes. His bandage was hidden beneath his locks, which framed his perfect features. He had the ideal hair, and it looked stunning in every style. His face was chiseled, with no imperfections in sight. I couldn't help but think he would be beautiful even as a woman. I wasn't exaggerating; Xavier's beauty was truly captivating.
"What happened then?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I don't think I was done."
"I wasn't done either," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't want to go any further. I wanted to control myself." I mumbled the last part, but I'm sure he heard it, judging by the smile on his face.
The comfort level I was experiencing around him was getting absurd. Normally, I would keep that thought to myself. "I'm glad you did," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I wasn't able to control it. I never know how to." He was too straightforward, as always.
"You saved yourself there," he teased, chuckling.
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
Xavier laughed. "I'm kidding." Oh.
🍁🍁
🎵bonfire (cover) by Peder Elias and Cha eun woo.
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