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It is not often that Wave is left utterly, irrevocably speechless. He prides himself on being eloquently silent – most people don’t deserve to hear what he has to say, after all – and, when fancy strikes, he regards the situation with a quick one-liner that either diffuses the tension in the room or increases it, making it someone else’s problem entirely.
The point being – Wave is not used to having the words brimming in the base of his throat being ripped out of him so mercilessly and carelessly.
Wave glares at the horrible pink note in his hand.
“You have a nice smile,” it says. Who even says shit like that?
Wave glares harder, hoping that it is enough to burn it completely.
“What are you glaring at?” Punn asks, causing Wave to flinch and put the note away in a panic – only for it to fall on the floor.
Before Wave can even turn around and pick (read: crumple) the note, he hears:
“'You have a nice smile?’ Are you sure that this is for you and not for a Wave that, you know, smiles?” Ohm questions, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
Wave glares harder, reaching out for the note held in Ohm’s hands which he only succeeds in hiding behind his back.
“Tch tch,” Ohm tuts. “Who wrote this for you?”
Wave sighs resigned. “I don’t know,” Wave admits. “Can I please have my note back?”
“Nope,” Ohm says, peering into the note. “When did this person even see you smile, huh? You never smile.”
“Hey,” a new voice – that makes his breath hitch, something Wave will admit only to himself in the middle of the night – from behind says. “Wave smiles, alright. What’s happening, though?”
“Pang!” Ohm exclaims, running towards where Pang and Punn now stand. “Wave has a secret admirer! Look! They wrote it in a pink note and all!”
Wave clenches his fist and turns around, definitely not prepared for Pang’s bright, teasing smile as he peers into the note.
“Someone has been looking at you,” Pang says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Isn’t this exciting?”
“Nope,” Wave answers, a little defeated, grabbing the note out of Ohm’s hand, and fleeing.
***
In all fairness, Wave should have probably thrown the taunting pink note away.
It doesn’t matter to him; he honestly can’t bring himself to give a shit if someone likes him or not. It’s most probably a prank. And if it’s not, they probably don’t even know him at all. It’s just an attempt at flattery; probably someone who wants a favour from him. Even if Wave entertains the minuscule possibility that it is not; that it is something probably even beyond that, that someone actually likes him, there’s only one person that he wishes would say this to him.
That one person, who is currently grinning from ear to ear at the pink note that Wave should’ve definitely thrown away.
Wave sighs.
“Why aren’t you excited?” Pang asks, digging his toes in Wave’s thighs. “This is so exciting! If this happened to me, I wouldn’t stop gushing about it!”
“I don’t care,” Wave answers, concentrating on the History textbook on his lap. “I really do not give a damn about this.”
“But someone likes you!”
“So?” Wave asks, shutting the textbook.
“Who do you think it is?” Pang asks, sitting upright with his legs folded.
“I don’t know,” Wave answers. “I don’t care.”
“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have kept this note,” Pang points out.
Wave hates that he’s right. It’s a curse in disguise–being so intimately known by someone. Wave wouldn’t change it for the world.
“It’s weird, right?” Wave asks. “This is so weird!”
“How is it weird?” Pang asks.
“Someone slipped it in my diary. I have definitely seen them before, then, for them to have done that. And I don’t even know their intentions for saying that to me!”
“Trust me,” Pang says, “They mean it. This isn’t a joke or anything.”
“How do you know that?” Wave asks.
“Well, my best friend is kind of amazing, so it’s not too hard to believe,” Pang says casually, as though he is noting the weather and is not, currently the reason for Wave’s brain short-circuiting.
“But,” Pang pauses, waggling his eyebrows, “who do you want it to be?”
You. “No-one,” Wave mutters, opening his textbook again. “Let’s study, okay? This is what we are here for.”
Pang pouts but puts the note back in its place and shifts so he’s sitting beside Wave, their arms brushing against each other.
Wave thinks that he’d be content if he just had this for the rest of his life.
***
The notes don’t stop.
It’s the lunch lady who gives him the note next.
“The note was there when I came in the morning,” she explains, digging through her pockets, handing Wave another, less fancy note which says–
“Please don’t throw this away. Give it to the boy in the maroon jacket and glasses when he comes for lunch. His name is Wave. Please, please, please. Thank you!”
Wave doesn’t open the lilac note until he reaches the lunch table.
“I wish I could share all my meals with you. Seeing you in the morning makes my entire day.”
Wave does not blush. He does not feel the heat rising up his neck and does not also elicit a tiny smile at the words that he absolutely does not keep reading over and over. He also does not flinch and scramble to keep the note away when Pang, Claire, and Namtarn join him for lunch.
“Another note?” Pang asks, a little smug.
Wave sits a little upright, concentrating wholly on the food in front of him and does not bother Pang with a reply.
“Are you blushing, Wave?” Claire asks.
Wave turns to glare at Claire.
“I am not,” he says. Because he is not. He couldn’t, ever. He doesn’t even think that it’s biologically possible!
“Are you sure?” Pang whispers leaning close to him.
Wave flushes. His neck erupts in goosebumps and his traitorous heart skips a beat.
“Shut up,” he says.
“So defensive, Wave,” Namtarn says. “It’s alright to feel flustered. Anyone would be.”
“You know,” Ohm says, joining them at the table, “the first note he received said that he had a good smile! A smile!”
“A smile?” Namtarn questions. “Oh, wow. They’re really enamoured by you, aren’t they?”
“Not enamoured,” Wave replies. “They’re being wrongfully cheesy and said something extremely cliché. It is certainly not true. I don’t smile.”
Pang hums, transferring the mushrooms from his plate to Wave’s – an unspoken rule, formed by Wave’s love for it and Pang’s hatred for it. Wave smiles in reply.
“Sure,” Claire replies, folding her hands on the table. “If you want to be in denial for so long, then sure. We’ll go with that.”
Denial. What does Claire know? Just because she seems to see through everyone does not mean that she can see through Wave too.
The lilac note burns through his pocket, seemingly agreeing with Claire.
***
The next note is a baby blue note slipped into his locker.
“If you could look for the definition of perfect in the dictionary, there’d be a picture of you, Wave.”
“Damn,” Pang says when he reads it. “They really like you, huh?”
(Wave reads all the notes in Pang’s voice, because it’s horribly convenient, that way.)
The next one is a black note with silver letters glaring at him, given to him by a waiter in a café when he’s with Mon, Korn, and Pang. It’s deeply embarrassing.
It says, “I wish I could spend all my days with you by my side. We could change the world, you know?”
(The notes loosen something on his chest. It’s nice being liked for once, rather than being on the other side of the table, he thinks, looking at Pang.)
“Do you not have an idea of who it is?” Korn asks, looking at the note. “Maybe from their handwriting or something?”
Wave shakes his head. “The handwriting is different every time.”
“How do you know it’s the same person then?” Mon asks.
Wave shrugs his shoulders. He just has a feeling. A strong feeling and an ardent desire.
After that, there’s a note on his coffee mug (“You’re brilliant. I could listen to you talk all day.”), a note on his desk (“This is probably getting annoying for you but I need to tell you these things, you know? They seem to spill out so easily whenever I see you and that won’t bode well for anybody. Anyway, I’m like, half-way in love with you, in case you didn’t know. Hope you have a good day.”), and a note on his backpack (“You’re so cute when you fidget with your hoodie strings. You’re cute, always. You make my day.”).
Wave is just a breath away from losing it.
“It is getting worse, Pang!” Wave exclaims. “This is horrible!”
“Horrible, how?” Pang asks.
Because you don’t seem to give a damn that someone else likes me! Because you wouldn’t care if I start liking someone else! Because –
“Because they don’t know me at all!”
– I like you and you won’t ever, like me back.
“Why do you say that?” Pang asks with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Because if they knew me, they’d know that I appreciate them coming to me rather than cowering behind a note!”
“Cowering behind a note?” Pang asks in a small voice.
“Yup,” Wave says, shaking his head in disbelief. “If they really liked me, you’d think that they’d have the courage to come up to me and say that.”
“Maybe,” Pang says in that weird, small voice of his that Wave decidedly does not like. “Maybe, they’re just scared.”
“Why would they be scared? I am not so heartless that I’d make fun of them,” Wave answers.
“You’re sure that you won’t like them?” Pang asks.
“Yeah,” Wave says.
“Wouldn’t you want to keep an open mind for them, though?” Pang asks, following a peal of mirthless laughter. “Like, wouldn’t you give them a chance? At all?”
Wave’s heart has been enraptured a long, long time ago by someone who smiles as easy as he breathes. Wave has been enraptured a long, long time ago. He would not be able to give his heart to someone else even if he tried.
“Nope,” Wave answers, hanging his head.
“But you like the notes,” Pang says. “You smile at them!”
“They're… nice,” Wave admits.
“Not nice enough for you to like that person?” Pang asks.
Wave furrows his eyebrows and leans towards Pang. “Why do you care so much?” Wave asks.
“I don’t,” Pang clearly lies.
“What’s the matter, Pang?” Wave asks.
“Nothing’s the matter!” Pang answers, standing up in a hurry. “I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
***
Wave does not see him tomorrow.
Or the day after that.
Which, okay fair, because it was the weekend but it still bothers Wave to no end. So, he decides on doing this fun little thing called, 'talking to his friends other than Pang’. It is not going well.
“So you’re worried that you said something to him?” Namtarn asks.
Wave nods. “Pang never, ever avoids people, Namtarn. He’s always, you know,” Wave says, gesturing around signalling ’Pang always being up in everyone’s noses’.
“Mhm. So you’re telling me that you can’t think of any other reason why he’d be avoiding you?”
“I can’t,” Wave says. “I mean if he wasn’t okay with my cynical opinion about people in general, he’d never make the effort to befriend me in the first place.”
“That’s the reason you can come up with?” Namtarn asks, sipping her coffee. “Really, that?”
“What else could there be?” Wave asks.
“Figure that out for yourself,” Namtarn says, standing up. “I’ve to meet Mon for a… for a project! Got to go!”
“Hey, wait!” Wave exclaims after Namtarn’s disappearing figure.
“Shit,” he mutters, sitting down on the wonky canteen chair.
“Wave,” a voice – the one that makes his stomach swoop down and low, – calls from behind him.
Wave scrambles in his chair and gives out a very dignified squeak and turns, coming face to face with the person haunting every single one of the empty spaces left behind in his absence.
“You’re here,” Wave states in an extremely casual manner.
“I’m here,” Pang replies, holding out what seems to be a piece of cake and… a note.
A note.
Wave throws himself into the wobbly chair with a sigh.
“Did they come to you now?” Wave asks. “Oh god, did they bring me a cake?”
“Wave,” Pang says, taking a seat across him. “Read the note.”
“Who’s the cake for?” Wave asks, clutching the white paper in his hand.
“Who else if not you?” Pang replies.
Wave blinks up at him.
“You bought the cake for me, Pang?” Wave asks.
“Who else would I do things for, if not you?” Pang replies, easily.
Wave feels a little frozen before the world tilts and shakes and rattles him on the inside.
“What are you saying?” Wave asks.
“Read the note, Wave,” Pang says, with a hint of trepidation softening the harsh edges of those words.
Wave opens the note. It is in Pang’s handwriting.
“Wave,” it says. “You asked me to stop cowering behind these notes. You asked me to face you. So here I am.”
Wave looks up at Pang, his breath caught in his throat.
“You make me strong, Wave. Except when it comes to this. This, as in, this. You, Wave. I am so scared of how much I feel for you. I thought I could hide my feelings and be happy with the fact that you chose to be close to me, as my best friend. I thought I could hide them and stifle them and fold them and store them in my heart. But every day that I spend with you makes me want to scream just how much I like you from all the rooftops of the entire city. It’s making me lose every bit of sense and semblance I pride myself on having. I like you so much. I couldn’t hide it from you anymore. Hence, the notes. I like you so much and I don’t want to lose you. I hope we can still be friends after this.”
It is not often that Wave is left utterly, irrevocably speechless.
Except, of course, when it comes to Pang. The bane of his exceptions.
“You like me,” Wave states – impressively steady Wave will remark after the most terrifying moment of his life is over – his mind whirling in absolute disbelief.
Pang refuses to meet his eye. “I do,” he says in a small voice.
“You wrote these notes for me,” Wave states again because he cannot do anything except repeat all of what has transpired in the past minute or so.
“I did.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
With shaky hands, Wave leans forward to gingerly touch Pang’s upturned palm.
“Do you know why I was so annoyed at them?” Wave asks, his mind whirling with inexplicable happiness.
Pang looks at him, for the first time in forever and sags his shoulders. “You hated them.”
Wave shakes his head, grazing his finger on Pang’s palm before enveloping it with his own.
“I was annoyed at them because I thought that they weren’t from you,” Wave admits.
He tightens Pang’s hand in his own. “I kept collecting them because I always read them in your voice.”
Wave hears Pang’s breath hitch. “You… what?”
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Wave asks.
Pang nods his head, and then shakes again, and then nods his head again, before pensively looking down and shaking his head. “What are you saying?”
“I like you, stupid,” Wave admits, his heart in his throat. “I like you a lot,” Wave continues.
Pang rips his hands away from Wave’s and rushes to Wave’s side.
“You… like me?” Pang asks, holding Wave’s arm.
“I thought I was so obvious,” Wave says.
“I thought I was so obvious!” Pang exclaims, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I– If not me, then surely our idiot friends.”
“I like you,” Wave says, a small smile on his face, revelling in the fact that he can say that now.
“I thought you did not like me on most days,” Pang replies.
You are my favourite person. “You are my favourite person,” Wave replies.
Pang’s smile widens even further. “It really works in my favour because you are my favourite person.”
“I cannot believe this,” Wave says. “I hoped, and I wished, but you were always so– so happy that I was receiving those notes. I did not dare going beyond an unrealistic desire.”
“I can’t believe it either!” Pang exclaims, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “I thought that you’d show some signs but…”
“But I didn’t,” Wave replies.
“But you didn’t,” Pang says, shaking his head.
“What a fool,” Wave says. “Should’ve just come and told me.”
Pang’s hands find their way to Wave’s face. “You are the most important person to me,” he says. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Wave replies with absolute certainty.
Pang’s thumb caresses Wave’s cheek. “You really like me, huh?” Pang asks.
Wave looks at Pang. As if he were capable of anything but that. “I like you a lot, Pang,” Wave replies. “You make my day. I love hearing you talk. We could change the world together. I wish I can spend all my days with you.”
Pang presses a kiss on Wave’s cheek. “I like you too. So, so much.”
It is not often that Wave is left utterly, irrevocably speechless. Pang keeps finding new ways of ripping the words out of the base of his throat and leaving him entirely breathless. Wave keeps finding new ways to love Pang.