Pink cotton of sugar clouds in reflections of caramel sunbeams

      As usual, we sit in the kitchen together.              Being together is a matter of course for us. Over the years of a long friendship, this has already grown into a habit or, I'm not even afraid of this word, a tradition. When we were at school, we often went to visit each other, whiled away the evenings after lessons and extra classes; after entering the university, cozy home chairs and the familiar view from the window were replaced by the kitchen in the dorm – a real "walk-through yard!". Each of us tried to rent an apartment, but for reasons only the universe knows, we could not even spend a couple of evenings over a cup of tea in new, half-empty uninhabited rooms. And each time we observed another grey urban view from someone else's windows.              The kitchens were different – but we remained unchanged.              Such a frequent change of residence was tiring, so when we once again occupied the kitchen table in the dorm for the third hour, we made a strategic decision to approach the choice of housing as thoroughly as possible. So that certainly nothing could interfere. The catch was only in finances… We are still students, savings have gone to previous unsuccessful options, and there is not enough money from part-time job for all the delights of life. So, it turned out that we rented a two-room apartment and began to live together. It seems to be understandable, but the bewilderment of what is happening does not let go yet.              All these thoughts were coursing in my mind until my name passed close to my ear (and judging by the intonation, not for the first time), and the hand waved in front of my eyes.              “Heeeeyyy! Are you here?”       “Uh?”       “OMG! You got stuck in your mind again? I am asking, will you have some yoghurt?” he has rolled his eyes as usual, and I can't help but chuckle.       “Not again but once more!” I fake puff out my cheeks. “Anyway, because of you, I have already developed a habit – when I look at you, I want to eat pudding. That’s weird!”       “When I look in the mirror, I also want to eat pudding.”       “By the way, how did our pudding maniac exchange his love for the ordinary yoghurt?! Will the Heavens soon fall on earth?”       “You better not be joking around with me like that! Or you won’t have any yoghurt! It's already a tragedy for me that all the pudding was sold out.”              He finally puts the yoghurt and tea on the table and sits down next to me.       “You know…” I start reflectively.       “I won’t know until you tell me”       “Here you go again! I want to share my thoughts, and you're spoiling the whole atmosphere!”       “Aren’t you going to confess your love to me?” with a haughty look, he throws a glance at me and, crossing his arms over his chest, smugly continued “Huh, no wonder! I'm still the most popular guy in the whole university!”       “Phooey on you!” it was impossible to keep laughing. “You? Ahahahah! If a couple of girls confessed to you, it doesn’t mean that you are the cock of the walk!”              To be honest, he is really handsome. Who would have thought that from a cute little boy I met a long time ago at school, he would turn into such, frankly said, a hot young man. Until the last moment I had a hope that those butterflies in my stomach and a pounding heart were a manifestation of teenage hormones or something else, I believed that it would pass. But this condition still does not let me go, after so many years! And it feels like the further away, the more these feelings permeate me through and through. Of course, I try to hold myself together and not be blown. So, I have to hide embarrassment behind a lot of words and barbs and explain the reddened cheeks with indignation at him. Besides, his behaviour towards me doesn't seem to have changed much with age. He still uses biting words, but nevertheless always helps out in difficult moments. A friend who is definitely known for trouble, and not only in one. As the saying runs, a friend in need is a friend indeed. A person like him is really one-in-a-million, no less. Therefore, my choice is obvious: our long-term friendship is much more important to me than passion or sappy romantic crap.              “How is it going at university? These days you often ghost me because of your trainings. We have been living in this apartment for more than a week, and it was only today that we managed to sit peacefully and chat…”       “Uh…mm…Well…” Looking away, he scratches his cheek with his finger. “We have a reporting concert coming soon… I want to, like, prepare well…What about you?”       “Ah, yes, the concert! I should also concentrate more on composing a new song… Stop! It's not about me now! This all is important, of course, but don't push yourself too hard with trainings, otherwise, as soon as you start, you dance until you lose your pulse!”       “That's not true!” he finally turned to me.       “That IS true! I think you should give yourself more indulgences sometimes, you're already the best student from the entire dance department!”       “Maybe you're right… But there is a particularly gifted fellow among the freshmen… What was his name…Hwang something? As a senior, I definitely can't give him the pas!”       “Well, idk how good this smth is but I can say with confidence that you are the best dancer I know!”              “Did his ears really turn red? Because of such a small compliment? Although I'm telling the truth.”              This feature of his touches me, and yes, I admit, sometimes I purposely provoke him to look at these red ears! As long as I can remember, he has always reacted this way to my compliments or praise. I wouldn't say that my words were particularly different from what other girls told him, but his ears always turned red only because of me. Or maybe he reacts so to nice words from the closest persons? Well, anyway, it's still inspiring… Of course, I didn't overdo it, otherwise, he would be arrogant... But the fact remains that boys are less likely to be complimented in life, and I don’t mind saying it to him, even more – it's a pleasure for me.              I remember, in high school, girls were constantly sticking to him, praising him as much as they could. On the one hand, it was uneasy to watch, because back then I had just begun to realize my feelings towards him, and all of a sudden so many rivals… I was really afraid that some pretty girl might pick him up. The feeling of jealousy was poisoning me terribly from the inside. But I should stand up for it, it was a complete shit show – he ignored almost everyone, occasionally “gifting” with a look, especially creative ones. Sometimes his answers to pickup lines shocked everyone around and were saved as memes and stickers for school chats!              At this thought, I cover my face with an unexpected chuckle.       “What’s wrong with you?”       “I just remembered how girls hit on you at school! It was so hilarious”       “Nothing funny about it. They didn't come off me, and I didn't know what to do anymore. Maybe you could help, but NO you watched and laughed at my suffering!”       “«Oppa, you’re my ideal type. Can you give me your number? »        «Sorry, I don’t have a phone»” I quote one of the memorable moments especially emotionally. “And you were holding the phone in your hands! Ahahah! You could at least hide it in your bag in advance so that it wouldn't be so obvious!”       “Well, yes, the inconsistency came out. All you need is just shaming me in front of the others! I was young and dumb” a wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows.       “Ah! Ah! Here is one more!” I abruptly approach him and slap him on the back a couple of times.       “Maybe better not?”       “Maybe better YASS!       «Oppa, let’s go for cherry blossom viewing together. When and where?»       «What about going to Yeouido Park near Hang River in 3023?»       I even felt a little sorry for that girl then… How did this even come to your mind?!”       “I don't feel sorry for anything. I just made it obvious that it will never happen.” In addition to the frowning eyebrows, a wrinkled nose appears.       “Oh, dear! You're so screwed up, just like Mr Wrinkle (Jureumi)!” I'm definitely choking with laughter because I can't say another word.              A redly orange sunbeam runs along the wall, taking our attention from the hot tea. Outside the window, residential buildings of an unfamiliar area, bathed in the rays of the setting sun, spring-like naked trees, preparing to dress up in the robes of young foliage, and the sky. Its barely noticeable blueness turns into all shades of pink and purple, and cotton of the same sugar-pink cumulus clouds hangs over the horizon. Perfectly for recording a track!       We both gazed at the landscape with fascination and enjoyed the tranquillity of the moment. There is really something intimate, homely about it. I finally open my yoghurt and lick the foil of the lid.              “You're just like a child!” he says touching my cheek and wiping the tip of my nose with his thumb.              I feel like my cheeks are on fire. I hope this is not noticeable in the rays of the setting sun. His smile is usually snide, but now there is tenderness in it. I can't take my eyes off it and I smile unwittingly too.              “As long as I remember you, you've always done that.”       “Oh, really? He-he… Thanks! I didn’t even notice that!”       “Keep eating” Letting off my cheek, he sips some tea and begins to eat his portion of the dessert.              Why is he so caring all of a sudden? His only one life mission is teasing me! But now he did that to me and continued sitting just as if nothing had happened. What am I supposed to do? My heart is pounding like crazy, and I can't even take a cup, who knows if my hands are shaking too. Now the silence has become a little uncomfortable…              “Look at that cloud! It looks like a cat!”       “Where?”       “That one!” I point my finger at the window.       “I don't know where to look! Can’t see!”       “How can it not be seen?!” I move up to him from behind almost closely and, looking over his shoulder, point my hand in the direction of the cutest cloud ever. “That one! Look, it’s just like a round muzzle with ears! Isn't it beautiful?”              I turn to him, waiting for an answer, and he looks right at me. So close that I can literally feel his breath. My plan to relieve the tension has ended in fiasco. I will never believe in my life that he was looking at me all this time while I was fascinated by the view.       I.DON’T.BELIEVE.              “Yeah, beautiful…” he says in an air-like whisper.              Reflected sunbeams frolicked in his large dark-brown eyes, giving them a caramel-brown hue. No exaggeration, I am ready to plunge headlong into their sweetness and crystallize inside. Well, actually I’m already. I'm already stuck in this alluring and sticky caramel. I was literally pulled out of my thoughts – he grabbed me by the waist, and I find myself on his lap! And at what point in time did my hands end up on his shoulders?!              “Now I can see better…” he says, keeping his hands on my waist.              “Well, here we are… in pink clouds of my life. His eyes don’t look like he's joking… Am I right?”              His gaze slides down and stops at the level of my lips. As soon as I barely nod, he leaves a light kiss on them as if asking permission. If this is a dream, then I definitely don't want to wake up, because at least here I can do everything. As if hypnotized by his gaze, I snuggle closer and run my hand through the slightly grown hair on the back of his head and finally kiss him. It seems that the heart is about to stop if it continues to work at such a speed, and caramel shards fly in front of closed eyes. And I'm floating above the ground like the very cloud that must be covering the sun right now, and does not let the sun let out sunbeams. Instead, the kitchen is filled with ragged breathing and long-desired touches.              “You know…” his husky voice is so close that it seems to be everywhere.       “I won’t know… until you tell me…” I breathe out next to his ear.       “Here you go again… I want to share my thoughts… and you're spoiling the whole atmosphere…”       “Aren’t you… going to confess your love to me?” I can't help but say.              We both giggled from deja vu, however, every joke has its share of a joke, right? And, slightly adjusting hair near my face, he says:              “Yes, I confess to you. I've been a very... very long time lov…”       “Me too” I hug him tightly and bury my face in his shoulder.              Love you ... for a long time ... — at the same moment it sweeps over the skin under the T-shirt and responds somewhere to the left in the chest.              Meanwhile, the sun has time to go under the horizon, but even in the dimmed twilight, the sky is still full of colours, albeit different – deep, delicate. Now it's no longer cotton candy or caramel sugar, but the dizzy sweetness of the world's best-aged wine tipped over the horizon.