The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains. Slowly, I opened my eyes and immediately saw Chak sitting at the edge of the bed. He was silent, slightly hunched, staring out the window. His face was illuminated by the morning light, but there was something missing in his eyes. As if he was hiding something, something too heavy to speak about.
I sat beside him, gently hugged him, and said, "Good morning."
He didn't reply. He simply turned towards me and suddenly pushed me back onto the bed. I couldn't hold back when I looked at his face, seeing that slight smile that meant something was about to happen.
"Time for a punishment," he said with a faint smile, one that wasn't quite friendly or threatening, but somehow both at once.
"Chak—what?" I managed to say, surprised, but it was already too late.
He started tickling me mercilessly. I twisted and laughed, barely catching my breath. His touch was cool, and I was overwhelmed by strange mixtures of emotions. Even as I laughed, I could feel there was something in the air that was more than just play.
"Chak, stop, please!" I begged, rolling around on the bed.
In that chaos, I tried to get up to escape, but we both moved at the same time — I forward, he downward.
And then...
My forehead hit his shoulder, and in an attempt to catch myself, my face crashed directly into his lips.
His lips... mine... touched.
I froze.
My heart skipped, but I couldn't control the flutter of excitement. A kiss? A kiss that wasn't a kiss.
I quickly pulled away, my eyes wide open, feeling like I was about to suffocate just at the thought of it.
"Chak... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just"
I stammered, completely shaken.
He stared at me for a few seconds. His gaze was unreadable. Too quiet. As if there was something in it I wanted to understand, but couldn't.
I got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen. I needed a strong coffee. I started preparing a simple breakfast: fried eggs and vegetables. My hands were slightly shaking as my thoughts kept racing around that moment. Why did I feel this way? What was I feeling about him? And did any of it even matter?
When I finished, I set the coffee and breakfast on the table and waited for him to come. I heard footsteps on the stairs, so I went to the door. There he was, dressed in a simple gray shirt, looking the same as always, but with a certain seriousness about him.
"Come to breakfast," I said, trying to sound calm, but the slight tremor in my hands wouldn't disappear.
"No, I'm going somewhere. I'll be back soon," he replied, starting to tie his shoes.
My thoughts were still in a muddle. What's going on with him? Why is he always so mysterious, always a little distant? When he was about to leave, I grabbed a piece of toast and brought it to him. "Please eat this, you can't go anywhere hungry."
Chak looked at me for a few moments, as if checking if I was serious. Then he calmly said, "If you want me to eat, I want one thing when I get back: a drawing."
"Deal," I answered without hesitation.
Chak took the piece of bread and ate it slowly, and I found myself staring at his lips, recalling that failed kiss. The feeling inside me hadn't settled.
When he finished, he bent down toward me and whispered in my ear, "If I don't like the drawing, you'll face a new punishment, my artist."
At his last words, I shuddered slightly. His whisper lingered in my ears like a promise.
I looked at him and said, "And what will the punishment be, so I can prepare for it?"
"You'll find out when I get back," he replied with a slight smile, then grabbed the door handle and left.
All that remained were my thoughts. And questions I couldn't answer. Where is he going? What is he hiding from me? Why do I feel this constant tension, as if something is approaching that will change everything?
I went back to the kitchen and started eating my breakfast. My thoughts were racing all over the place. I finished eating and cleaned up. Then I went to the art room to grab my sketchbook, pencil, and eraser. I went outside and sat at the garden table. I opened the sketchbook, took the pencil, and began to draw. The lines at first were strange and unformed, but after a while, I realized I was drawing those lips I couldn't forget, the ones I wanted to kiss over and over again.
When I finished, I leaned back and hit my head against something hard but soft at the same time. I looked up and saw Chak...