As soon as class is over, I start putting all my stuff away in my backpack and rush out of class as quickly as I can. I don't want to be stopped by anyone or anything holding me back because today is the day Ernest and I are hanging out. His class ended earlier than mine, so he told me he would just meet me at the gallery. Luckily, it's not too far from the university, and I can just walk there without having to get on the bus or subway.

I start heading off-campus when I hear my name being called. Shit, it's Don. I can't ignore him. I turn around and see him jogging over to me. I try not to look impatient, but I'm in a rush.

"Ye-jun! Where are you running off to, bro?"

"Just going home," I say, not knowing why I feel the need to lie to him.

"Well, do you have plans for tonight?" Don says, hinting at us hanging out.

"Umm, no, but I think I was just going to stay in tonight."

"What?" Don says, surprised.

"What?" I respond to him with a slight annoyance in my tone.

Don looks at me with confusion. "But it's Friday night! Why are you staying in? Let's do something!"

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to ruin my plans with Ernest. "I don't know, Don. I was just planning on having a quiet night."

Don gives me a pleading look. "Come on, man. We haven't hung out in a while. Let's grab some drinks."

I feel torn between my loyalty to Ernest and my friendship with Don. "I don't know if I can tonight, Don. I already made plans with someone else."

Don raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Who?"

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I want to tell him. But then I decide it's better to be honest. "Ernest. We're going to an art exhibit tonight."

Don looks surprised. "Ernest? You mean the quiet guy you're partnered with?"

I nod. "Yeah, we've been hanging out more lately.”

Don looks at me, almost as if he's trying to read my mind, and responds, "I see. I didn't think you guys were that close."

"Well, we have to work on a project together, so yeah, we kind of have to spend some time together," I explain.

"Well, I guess I won't keep you, but if you guys are so close, then maybe the three of us should hang out," Don says in a way that sounds like he's trying to push for something.

"I mean, yeah, I guess I could plan something," I say with some hesitation in my voice.

"Well, I won't keep you then," Don says, sounding a bit defeated, but I know he'll get over it.

With that, we say our goodbyes and I continue on my way to meet Ernest at the art exhibit. I feel relieved that Don didn't push the issue further and happy that I can still make it to the art exhibit on time. I quicken my pace and soon find myself outside the gallery. As I enter, I spot Ernest looking at a painting with rapt attention. As he stares at the painting, he almost looks like a different person. He's so engrossed in the painting, and seeing him like this makes my heart beat faster. He looks up and sees me, a smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, Ye-jun! You made it!" Ernest says, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sorry I'm a bit late. I ran into someone on my way here," I explain.

Ernest nods understandingly. "No worries. I'm just glad you're here now. Come on, let me show you my favorite piece in the exhibit." Ernest takes hold of my wrist, walking me as though he was a little kid, trying to show their parents some crazy thing they built. I don't even try to wiggle my way out of his hold. If anything, I don't even feel embarrassed, and I don't think Ernest notices he's holding onto me. I feel my ears getting hot, but I want him to keep holding onto me.

We go in and out of narrow white hallways, passing by all sorts of colorful pieces. Then, with a sudden halt, we stop in front of a large painting of a woman.

"I love this piece," Ernest says, his eyes glued to the painting. I stare at the painting, trying to understand why he loves it. All I see is a woman staring at something or maybe someone, with a floral backdrop. She doesn't look sad or mad, and no emotion is really shown on her face.

"Why is this your favorite painting here?" I ask, curious about what he sees in it.

Ernest turns to me, a smile on his face. "I just think it's so beautiful. The way the colors all blend together, and the way the woman is looking off into the distance, it's like she's contemplating something. Plus, I just love how the flowers in the background give the painting a really dreamy, ethereal feel."

"Hmmm, that's actually a very simple response," I say, somewhat surprised.

Ernest looks at me with an inquisitive look. "What do you mean?"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I mean, I was expecting some crazy abstract answer from you, kind of like how they portray artists in the movies," I say, hoping that my response doesn't offend him.

Ernest laughs quietly. "Oh, yeah, I don't have any crazy theories about this painting. Maybe some of them, but I just like this one a lot."

I take another look at the painting. It's very nice, and I can see why Ernest likes it so much. I wish I had the same emotional response to anything like Ernest does with paintings. Suddenly, Ernest shakes my wrist a bit. I didn't even notice he was still holding onto it.

"Are you okay, Ye-jun?" Ernest asks, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," I reply.

"You don't seem okay; your face says otherwise.” I must have been making a face when I was thinking about having an emotional response.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about you... Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I was just thinking about how cool it is that you have such a passion for this," I continue, realizing that I was stumbling over my words.

Ernest's cheeks turned red instantly. "Oh!" he exclaimed, looking down for a second. "Sorry, I didn't mean to react like that," Ernest awkwardly laughs.

"It's okay," I reply, smiling. "I was just lost in thought for a moment, that's all."

"Well, I'm sure there's something you have a passion for, or at least something you did have a passion for," Ernest says, giving me a reassuring smile. I start thinking about music and how much I used to love playing the guitar.

"I used to like playing the guitar," I say shyly.

"Really?" Ernest's eyes widen with excitement.

Ernest's eyes light up as he says, "That's so cool! What kind of music did you like to play?"

I feel a spark of excitement as we start talking about music, my shyness melting away as I share my favorite artists and songs. Ernest listens intently, nodding and asking questions as we walk through the gallery.

As we continue walking around, discussing our hobbies and admiring more paintings, a security guard suddenly stops us: "I'm sorry, but the gallery is closing in about 10 minutes." We look at each other in surprise, realizing that time has flown by. We apologize to the guard and make our way outside.

Standing there, we don't say much to each other. I glance up at Ernest and notice his hair blowing in the wind, and his nose turning a beet red from the sudden drop in temperature.

"Hey," I murmur, catching his attention. Ernest looks at me with his big, doe-like eyes. "Yeah?" he responds softly.

"Would you like to take a walk for a little while?"

"Sure."

We start walking, our feet crunching on the pavement as we make our way down the empty street. It's late and the city is alive with the sounds of cars passing by, distant chatter from bars and restaurants, and the soft glow of the street lights reflecting off the buildings.

As we walk, I steal a glance at Ernest. I can't help but notice how his eyes sparkle in the city lights, and how the tall skyscrapers tower above us, making us feel small yet important in this bustling metropolis. My heart flutters as I realize how much I'm enjoying our time together at this moment.

We chat about everything and nothing, our conversation ranging from the iconic architecture to the lively nightlife. Ernest tells me about his family and how he's not very close with them, but how he adores his little sister and would do just about anything for her. I can't help but smile, seeing how much he cares for her. He asks me if I have any siblings and I tell him how I have a little brother who's in high school back in Korea.

"Are you close with your little brother?" Ernest asks.

"Hmm, I used to be, but I think we've grown apart. Besides, my parents adore him," I trail off, thinking about how my brother must think I'm some sort of loser.

"I'm sure your brother probably misses you," Ernest says in a kind tone. He probably noticed my sudden mood change when talking about my own family.

I don't respond, and we just continue to walk in silence. I begin thinking a lot about Ernest, wondering what he must have been like in high school, what kind of friends he has, what his family is like, and even about his first kiss. These thoughts race through my mind when I suddenly feel the brush of Ernest's hand against mine. I don't move my hand, and instead let it linger there. Why am I doing this? And did Ernest mean to do that? He doesn't jolt his hand away. I can't help but wonder if he's feeling the same thing I am.

We find ourselves in a small park, surrounded by towering buildings and the soft hum of the city at night. We sit down on a bench, not saying much to one another.

"So, what are you thinking about?" I ask, hesitantly.

"Umm, not much I guess, just thinking about stuff..." Ernest says timidly.

"Did you have a good time today?" I speak up eagerly.

Ernest turns on the bench to face me directly. "Oh, Ye-jun, I had a great time! I'm so happy you agreed to come out and show you some of the amazing paintings we saw!" Ernest's smile is so wide that I can hardly tell if his eyes are open or not.

I chuckle. "Well, I'm glad I came along. It was different, but I like hanging out with you." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret saying them. I curse myself internally, turning my face so he doesn't notice my sudden change in expression.

Ernest doesn't seem to notice and speaks up in the same tone of voice as before. "That's great, Ye-jun!"

We sit there in silence for a while, taking in our surroundings. My heart is pounding like crazy and I feel anxious. I don't know how to talk with Ernest, and I don't know why. Suddenly, I look down at the ground and see a white speck, then another, and another.

Ernest shouts, "It's snowing!" He sits up from the bench and tries to catch the snowflakes in his mouth like a little kid.

I can't help but smile at the sight of him enjoying the snow. It's a beautiful moment, and I feel a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence. The snow continues to fall, covering the ground in a blanket of white.

We sit on the bench for a while longer, talking and laughing, enjoying the peacefulness of the snowfall. As we start to get cold, we stand up, and head through the snow-covered park. We walk in silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of the snow beneath our feet.

As we reach the end of the park, Ernest turns to me and smiles. "Thanks for tonight, Ye-jun. It was really great."

I smile back. "Yeah, it was. Thanks for showing me a good time."

Ernest leans in and gives me a hug, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I jump a little, but then I return the hug, embracing his warmth and not wanting to let go. I feel his heart beating, and it's calm, while I know mine is racing. As we part ways, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for him. Maybe, just maybe, there's something more here than just friendship.