Age Is Just a Number

Zara’s POV: 

“So,” lan said, stretching out the o sound, glancing at me. “Should I kiss you or something?” 

“No.” 

He nods, making a popping sound with his lips. “Thought so,” he responds, and we continue to sit in his car silently. “I’ll pick you up for school on Monday?” 

I pucker my lips, “Yeah, sure.” 

“Well, why are you still sitting in my car? Get out,” he said. 

I roll my eyes and jump out of his car. 

He rolls down the window, “You owe me 13.45 for the chicken legs and ice cream.” 

Before I could even respond, he drove away, leaving the dust. 

I wave my hand around to clear the air. “What a terrible fake boyfriend.” I mumble under my breath and walk towards my house, rumbling for the key inside my purse. “Darn it. I can’t see anything,” I hiss. 

When I found the key, I looked up and leaped back, a sharp chill running through my body. Narrowing my eyes, I take a step closer, “William?” I question. 

He looks up, and I swallow–that look.. 

Releasing a deep breath, I pat my beating heart. “Oh, God! William! Why are you sitting there in the dark corner of my house?! You scare the crap out of me!” 

I stand there, patting my chest, attempting to calm my heartbeat. My eyes scan William’s body, seeing him in red basketball shorts and a white t–shirt, once again with a random band. He ran his fingers through his hair, “I text you about coming over.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was with lan, so I forgot to check my phone,” I said. I remember how my phone. was buzzing a few times while I was crying with lan earlier. 

We were so immersed in our dramatic moment that I forgot to check my phone. 

“lan? The guy from earlier?? William said, but for some odd reason, it sounds deadly. 

“Yes,” I respond slowly and walk towards the front door. I turn towards him. “You know, I always wonder what band is that?” I ask, pointing at his shirt. 

O 

1/5 

He looks down. “Gun N Roses.” 

My eyes narrow, once again staring at the band on his shirt. “Who?” Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“They are a band from the 80s,” he explains. 

“What about your other shirts?” 

“My other shirt?” 

“Yeah, the other ones with other bands.” 

“Linkin Park, AC/DC, Foo Fighters, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Beatles.” 

“Who?” 

I don’t typically listen to music, mainly whatever plays on the radio of classical instruments. It helps me calm down, hearing soothing melodies play while I study or sleep, mostly sleep. 

“They’re bands,” he said. 

“Are they good?” 

He nods, “Amazing.” 

“Oh,” I replied and grabbed the key, attempting to put it through the hole, but my hands were trembling. 

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to put it in?” William whispered in my ear, making me leap forward. 

“Stop doing that!” I said. 

“Do what? 

He asks innocently. 

“Scaring me!” I hiss, attempting to open the door again. 

Darn it, zay! Get your shit together! You are a new woman! You aren’t obsessed with William Yi anymore! So, why can’t I stop shaking!? Stupid heart! Stop beating! 

I can feel a rough hand on top of mine, the other sliding across my waist, causing my body to freeze. “Let me help you,” he said, voice deeper than usual. 

The beating of my chest amplified as he closed the distance between us. I can feel his chest presses against my back, hand aiding my trembling ones in sliding in the key. “See? Gently push the key inside the hole, and it will fit perfectly,” he whispers into my ear. 

I push him off from behind. “I know how to open a door,” I mumble. 

“Really? Because you seem to have a hard time putting it in the hole,” he teases. 

2/5 

I turn around and ground my teeth. “I know how to put it in a hole.” 

1 

Even in the dark, I can see him arching a brow at me, doubting my ability to fit a key inside a freaking lock. “Really?” he said slowly, voice filled with sarcasm. 

“Yeah, I know how to fit it properly in a hole!” I whine, stomping my foot. 

He takes a step closer to me, causing my back to hit the door. “Then show me.” 

I can feel his hands sliding down my back, causing me to involuntarily arched my chest towards him. “Huh?” I squeak. 

“Show me how you can fit it inside your tight little hole,” he whispers. 

“W–Wait, what?” I stutter out, feeling the blood rush up my face. I couldn’t help but tighten the betrayal between my thighs. I can feel his fingers heading downward, tangling it with mine. “M–My w–what?” 

The corner of his lips tilted up mischievously. “You heard me, Angel, your tight littl-” 

I turn around and twist the doorknob open, stopping him from talking. I head inside, hearing him behind me. Flickering on the lights, I take off my shoes. “Where is your dad?” William asks, taking off his flip–flop. 

Probably at some random bar. “He went out with a client tonight,” I said. “So, want some juice or something?” I ask, heading towards the kitchen. 

He follows me, and I grab a container from inside the fridge, only to hit William’s chest coming out. He takes the juice from my hands and places it on the counter. 

“What?” I ask. 

“I haven’t seen you in three months, and this is the greeting I get?” He places both hands on the counter, trapping me. 

“Hello, Muffin?” I squeak out, feeling the intense closeness of us. 

He took a step closer, pressing himself farther into me. “That’s all? No hug?” 

I bit my bottom lips. “We hug earlier.” 

“No, I hug you earlier,” he said 

Slowly, I wrap my arms around his waist, and I can feel him around mine. William didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know what to say, so we simply stood there. 

Was it always this awkward between us? 

“I miss you so much, Angel,” he mumbles into my neck. 

2/5 

After some more silence, I push him back. “So, juice?” I ask, getting out of his grasp and grabbing two glass cupe 

I take it and pour some juice for both of us. 

He takes one, and I take the other, silently, drinking it. I pour more juice inside of mine and continue drinking it, filling up the silence as he keeps staring at me. My stomach feels like it’s about to burst, but I kept drinking more juice, praying it would explode so I would die and not be in this awkward situation. 

“So, why are you here?” I ask when I realize the juice container is empty. Darn it. 

“I thought we could bring back an old tradition,” he said, tucking his lips over his teeth, both hands shoved into his pocket. 

“An old tradition?” I question slowly, trying to remember what tradition he was talking about. 

“Fun Friday,” he said. 

I chuckle, shaking my head. “We haven’t done that since I was twelve.” 

I remember every when I was younger, William and I would do Fun Friday. Usually, I would sleep at his house, and we would play board games, eat junk food, and watch random old movies in our pajamas. When I was twelve, one Friday night, William just told me we were getting too old for Fun Friday and went out to watch movies with his friends instead. 

jamas with 

Imagine, twelve years old, standing outside holding a giant blue pillow in her Princess fluffy socks, ready to have Fun Friday with her next–door crush only to be slammed in the face with a door. 

“I know, but I kind of miss it,” he mumbles. 

“William, you’re the one who told me we were getting too old for that,” I said, and he nods his head, leaning against the table while I put the juice away. 

I 

“I know, but I miss it,” he continues mumbling, giving me large puppy eyes, pouring out his lips. 

I couldn’t help but snort at his sudden shy tactics. “Fine, but let me go change first,” I said, and a smile appears on his face. 

Quickly, I rush upstairs and change into a tank top and a pair of shorts. Tying my hair up, I walk downstairs to see William leaning against the counter. He turns towards me, and I can see his eyes scanning my body. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, grabbing my keys, attempting to control my body temperature. 

He clears his throat, “Nothing. 

“Let’s go. wo 

go, your house, right?” I ask, heading towards the door, and he follows me. 

Walking outside, I can feel the light breeze hitting my face, feeling amazing. My eyes roam over to see William looking at me. “What?” 

4/5