Chapter 57. His romantic feelings

Evan calmly walked without any hesitation to a destination only he knew about, so I attempted to remove my hand from him. "Evan, you can let go of me now," I uttered, looking at the few opened stores with bright lights inside them. I didn't notice how already late it was, but the moon and star above us, plus the rays coming from the shops and street lamps, were enough to make the evening surrounding luminous sufficient to see Evan's eyes even though his ball cap shadowed them. "I'm not letting you go," he murmured, though there was some shyness in his aura. "What if you suddenly leave me again?" I would've laughed at Evan's words and how he seriously emitted that line, almost sounding like a line from a drama, if this was just an ordinary day between the two of us wherein he had a spare time to act weird or funny suddenly. But it wasn't. The situation was kind of serious. I didn't mean to leave earlier him, though. The circumstance earlier was too much to handle. I wanted to suddenly disappear, knowing some people threw bad judgments on you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave without telling you or Ms. Grace," I mumbled, and he finally let go of my hand, the warmth from his hand slowly fading away, and I could feel the breezy air replacing it. Evan didn't say anything and walked ahead of me. His one step would take me about two steps to complete his, so I quickly hurried up to close the growing distance between us. Panting, I looked at my wristwatch and realized that it was already past 9 p.m., though there were still stores packed with customers. At the end of the road was a tailoring shop, and I could see a lady standing on a small ramp from the glass outside as the tailor took her measurements. A small ice cream shop was also still open, wherein many students-who were likely just come back from their group study sessions or cram school-flocked it, quickly choosing their desired flavors. I wanted to grab a rainbow sherbet-flavored ice cream, but Evan was walking so fast, so I even hurried up. "Evan, wait up!" I screamed and noticed we had arrived at a bus stop. And fortunately, we didn't wait for too long. A bus had already arrived and parked at the curb, letting in and out some passengers. Without saying anything but merely letting me puzzled out all by myself, Evan quickly dragged me onto the bus. After swiping his bus card twice on the card reader machine, he slowed down, walked down the aisle, and looked for an empty seat with me still behind him. Luckily, the passengers weren't that many, so there was ample space at the end part of the bus. "Let's sit here," Evan said, letting me sit first behind the window area. He then followed. "What are we doing here?" I rasped in a low volume, ensuring the other passengers wouldn't be disturbed. Evan just gave a teasing smile and leaned on the seat, his long legs diagonal on the floor. "Evan, what are we doing here?" I asked once more, though the answer was pretty obvious. "We're riding a bus?" he snorted. I scrunched my nose, trying not to get annoyed. "I mean, why are we riding a bus, and where are we going?" "Because I want to spend time with you somewhere where it feels nice." I did not say anything to protest more, and after a few moments, the bus finally took off. I had no idea where Evan was taking me, but it seemed like he had a clear destination in his mind seeing how composed he looked. The only thing I knew was that Evan must be happy because his song won again, so I presumed he'd likely wanted to celebrate with me again. Such thought made me happy, and I sighed out of relief, knowing the familiar Evan-the funny, friendly, annoying guy-I knew was finally back. Maybe, he really didn't hate me at all. Maybe, I was just being overdramatic because the romantic feeling was weighing hefty to endure all by myself; that's why I doubted him. Also, I remembered him saying he wanted to tell me something. I probably should also use this time to apologize for blurting out such a confession that he didn't expect from me. "Congratulations," I uttered, not looking at Evan. "For the win." "Thank you. I'm thrilled you were able to watch me today," Evan remarked and darted his gaze at the musical show being played on the small television inside the bus. I could tell that he really was happy. That, even though I did a terrible thing, he still appreciated the time I spent watching him perform."How was, uh"-he scratched his nape, evident shyness showing-"my stage?" I felt like I had asked the most challenging question, and my brain wasn't even halfway prepared for it, so I, too, even stuttered, my hands fidgeting on my trembling knees, "Y-you looked, uh, you looked cool today." I leaned my head to the window and silently watched the motion of views outside as I drew on the window through its moist. Evan didn't respond, but I could see him smiling ear-to-ear through my peripheral vision. The bus was moving at an appropriate speed enough for me to observe the city lights. We passed by some entertainment companies, residential complexes, malls, and other buildings until I didn't realize I had dozed off. My head was already leaning on Evan's shoulder when I woke up. "Sorry." I quickly removed my head from his shoulder, feeling a little shy. We held hands and hugged each other several times, as though it had occurred to us that we had developed a knack for being so touchy with each other's presence, but I had no idea why I suddenly felt ashamed of myself. "How long was I asleep?" "Five minutes." A few seconds later, the bus came to a halt, and Evan was quick to grab my hand before I could even stand up. A cold air breeze instantly crusted my face when we stepped out of the bus, some strands of hair covering my face. But such air motion didn't hinder me from seeing Seoul's night view from afar. It was rather a beautiful sight to acknowledge that I had to gasp in astonishment. "Han river?" I beamed as I tied my untrimmed bangs covering my face with a hair tie I found in my pocket. "What are we doing here?" "To talk about things," he softly said in a way that quickly gave me a hint about what he was referring to. I turned my back on him, heavily breathing while trying to gather my thoughts with my hair tangling as I struggled to tie it. I knew it; he wouldn't let such a foolish act of me slide that easy. He really had to say something about my confession, and I would respect him. I exhaled slowly, appreciating the city lights before our eyes. "Okay." The night was ordinarily silent, and the calm movement of the water in the river was calming to the naked ears, like a piece of absolute music soothing you after a long tiring day. We made our way to the grass area where some people-mostly couples-occupied the spots. I silently followed Evan as he shifted to a place with fewer people. When he finally found the perfect spot, he removed his mask and sat on the grass, his eyes gazing at city lights spread out miles and miles from afar. I fondly stared at him as he took several photos of the view. Something was quite off about Evan. Like something was bothering him. He probably realized I was still standing, so he gestured for me to sit beside him, which I followed. Although I'd often pass by this place, I couldn't remember the last time I spent some time by the side of the Han river, so I playfully rubbed my hands on the grasses, enjoying the city lights from afar and the cold breeze riming me. A beer would've been nice on calm nights like this, but I remembered something that shouldn't have disastrously occurred the last time I got drunk with Evan, so I quickly dropped my prospect. "Evan, I'm sorry," I whispered, and Evan was already staring at me with pure confusion plastered on his face. "I'm really sorry." "Sorry for what?" His voice oozed with concern. Crisp and clear-cut. I created a terrible situation between us-a circumstance that I could've avoided if only I weren't stupid enough to let my feelings soar. And yet Evan was still being concerned about me right now even though I crossed the line of being just friends with him. And how did I repay the friendship he gave me? By romantically falling in love with him. I wanted to slap my head or swim away to the deepest part of the river because I knew perfectly well that developing such a romantic feeling for him made him feel uncomfortable. "For making you uncomfortable because of what I did." Evan suddenly fell silent as he studied my face. He had already removed his ball cap, so a billion stars and the luminous moon above us permitted me to see an eccentric light glimmering in his eyes. And although he had partially removed his makeup and changed into casual clothes from his rock star outfit, he still looked handsome to me, so I was fast to avert my attention back to the city lights. Or else I'd shamelessly cry in front of him. I attempted a smile just as when I saw his concerned expression deepened. "What exactly did you do?" A slight frown creased my brow, puzzled as to what he meant. He wasn't drunk that night, was he? So it was not safe to assume that he didn't hear me confessing to me. "That I . . . said something to you when I was drunk that night. About my feelings for you." "Oh. I don't understand why you're being sorry for that," Evan reckoned as he threw a pebble into the river. "Do you regret what you said about me?" "No! I mean, maybe. Because I feel like I've taken your kindness for granted." My voice cracked, and suddenly, there was a strange pressure in my eyes, which had me standing up abruptly. "I'm really sorry, Evan. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," I whimpered and bit my lips because I could already feel my eyelids getting even heavier. "Having you as a friend is something I'm happy about. I didn't mean to cross the line. If only I could make these feelings quickly disappear just so you'd stop avoiding me and become my friend again, I will . . . but I still can't, Evan," I sobbed. He stood up and leaned a bit to match my height, his hands on his knees, and whispered, "Hey, it's okay." He still smelled nice-cozy and cottony this time with a bit of baby powder scent-even though he sweated earlier at the music show. "Misty, don't cry." I exhaled heavily and looked back at the city lights. "No matter how much I tried denying these feelings away, I just can't help feeling this way for you, Evan." This time, I felt my tears rush down my cheek, and I was quick to wipe them with the sleeve of my suit. "I've never felt this way before, but you make me smile and feel at ease just hearing your voice. And even though you tend to make fun of me often, I really liked every moment with you. Above all, you being caring and kind to me"-I turned to him and attempted a smile-"gives me the comfort I've never felt with someone before." "Misty, listen to me. I'm not-" "I promise I will remember to put salt in your fried eggs so they won't taste bland. The fine-grained salt! Just please stop avoiding me anymore because . . . I really missed you, Evan," I wept and hastily turned my back to him because the last thing I would not like to happen was him seeing me shed endless tears. "God, I look ugly. Don't look at me!" An incredible force must have ruptured my ears, or did I hear Evan laugh at my remark? "W-Why? Why are you laughing?" I stuttered and sniffed my nose. But then, a few seconds, later on, I felt his hand on my shoulder, twisting me to face him. "Misty," he paused, blinking his eyes twice. "Did you mean what you said?" "Yeah, I will not forget to put salt-" He puffed out a few more chuckles which had me frowning my eyebrows. "No, I meant . . ." he trailed off, cupping my face with one of his hands. "Do you . . . truly love me?" he asked in an oddly affectionate tone, and my heart tumbled in my chest although I kind of had an idea that he would ask me that. "I, uh . . ." I couldn't continue any longer, so I simply nodded and removed his hand from my face. "I didn't plan this to happen, Evan. You must be thinking that I created this whole fiasco all this time. I'm sorry . . . for developing these feelings for you." Evan didn't respond for a long moment. He then plopped himself back to the grass, his eyes gazing at the luminous stars, a hint of considerate words wanting to come out of his mouth. "I used to be . . . unappreciated. Some of my friends way back in high school even remarked that I didn't have a good voice whenever we sang in karaoke rooms, so for them, my chance of becoming a singer was impossible," he said out of nowhere. "I hate those friends of yours," I responded. Evan shook his head though there was an apparent smile on his face. "Thanks to them, though. They gave me the courage to prove them wrong. However, things didn't turn into what I expected them to be when I first entered the music industry," he denoted as if he was reminiscing his past self. "I was just making music, hoping that people would listen to my work one day. People called me a nobody because I wasn't making it into the charts. So I'd always find myself here with a bottle of beer, alone, sad, and contemplating my thoughts. Doubting myself if I could be a great singer, a great idol just like others, to be specific." His lips curled into a sour smile. "But now a lot of people appreciate you and your music. They love you, Evan." He brushed his hair upwards and locked it by putting his ball cap backward so that I could see his whole bright face now. "Yeah, and I'm grateful for them. They make me happy ." He smiled, looking genuinely happy at the thought of his dear fans. "There's no Evan Park without their support. I can't bear losing them." He couldn't bear losing them. He worked hard for so many years to build his career, so even I was scared by the mere thought that losing his fans would be like losing your special ones. And I completely understood. At this point, I already accepted that this same night would be the end of my unrequited romantic feelings for him. After this night, everything must be back to normal. I needed to get my act together and stop these feelings for Evan, so he could just entirely focus on his life as an idol. Me too; I needed to focus on publishing my book and editing our clients' manuscripts instead of pushing these feelings on him, which affected him. "This is like my go-to place whenever I feel sad." I bit my lower lip to stifle the sudden pressure behind my eyelids again. "Evan, why are you telling me all of these?" "Because . . ." He stood up once more and approached me. "I'd like to spend time here not only during the sad days of my life . . . but also during the happy ones. And you have no idea how happy I feel now," he remarked; every vowel and consonant was firm and concise as if he wanted me to register the next words he was going to say. I swallowed a gulp, and finally, I could breathe again. A train of thought maneuvered in my brain. Was Evan saying something I wasn't expecting him to say? "Evan . . ." "I liked you from the very start, Misty-truly liked," he suddenly confessed, which had me feel a loud thudding behind my chest. I could singly feel a ripple of absolute warmness crust my entirety. And then, in an enraged tone, he fretted, "No, scrap that." I felt my heart sink at his sudden regret in confessing. "Evan, you don't have to-" He took one step, and the space between us had become small again. "I liked you when you confronted me for being too loud that night-no, early morning- I was having a noraebang. I liked you when you made fun of my tiny fingers. I liked you when you laid down with me in the middle of the road. I liked you that morning when you didn't put salt in my fried eggs. I-" His lips pursued a thin smile before sharply exhaling like he was on the verge of delivering the critical part. "Misty, I like you every moment you spend with me, and the more time you spend with me, the more I get to know you . . ." he recited, very calmly, like he had prepared all of this in a long time. I blinked about three times when I felt the pressure on my eyes and finally let out some awful tears. "Evan, you don't have to-" "My likeliness toward you has gotten worse." Suddenly, my heavy heart discerned a fresh wound, like a thousand little fragments of broken glasses were pressed deep in it, not caring that it was unbearable for me even to hear what Evan would say next. "I'm sorry." "It has gotten worse because I'm . . ." he hesitated, tucking a strand of my hair that had escaped from my tying. ". . . in love with you, too, Misty. I truly am." He pursued a shy smile before running his hand on his hair. "You're always running in my mind, and you'd probably laugh over the fact that I even think of you before making music or before I close my eyes to sleep." It took my brain a long time to process everything Evan said, to realize that he had just confessed his romantic feelings to me. Not because I transformed to be a complete idiot, or that my brain finally halted functioning, but because . . . it was beyond impossible to even imagine that he learned to develop such feelings for me-because we lived in different worlds. "Evan, are you drunk?" He let out a contagious-sounding like a whoop of laughter. "I prefer to confess my love with a clear mind and not when under an alcohol influence." I snorted at him, my mind rearranging everything that happened that night I drunkenly confessed to him. "I'm in love with you, Misty. More than you could've ever imagined. I should've told you, I know. I've been feeling this for a long time now, but perhaps, I was just an idiot for not telling you. I was also afraid you'd feel uncomfortable." Evan unexpectedly closed the small distance between us by wrapping his arms around me; his inviting warmth-baby powder, almond, and milk-scented fragrant-oozed all over me as I buried my face in his neck and returned the hug. He tightened his hug, one hand on my back as the other one reached my head before he softly planted a kiss on it. "It seems like you washed your hair today," he deadpanned, eventually chuckling at the end, which had me grunt, but he didn't let go of me.