It was Gary’s turn to be sick. He woke up with a horrid headache. His temples throbbed like mad and he felt like his brain was close to exploding against his skull.

Jihyo woke up to see Gary grimacing, his hands brought up to his head.

“Oppa! What’s wrong?” she immediately went over to him.

“My head…” he gasped. She hurriedly brought some painkillers and water for him. He took it and tried to go back to sleep. Jihyo stayed by his side, lulling him to sleep. Suddenly, fear washed over her. What if he sleeps and never wakes up again?

Like a child, she snuggled close to him… She put her head on his chest. She could hear his rhythmic heartbeat. Thump… thump… thump…

Gradually, she fell asleep too.

A few hours later, she woke up. Gary was still asleep. She checked on him, making sure he was still… alive, before going into the kitchen to make some porridge, in case he wakes up hungry.

She was done cooking, but he hadn’t woke up yet. There was nothing to do, so she randomly switched the channels on the TV. It’s amazing how she could grow so reliant on him, even though they only spent 6 days together.

In the late afternoon, he woke up. Still weak, but his headache was not as severe. He walked out, guessing that she was watching TV, only to find that now, it was Jihyo who was sleeping. He knew she was sleeping from the steady rise and fall of her chest. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and attempted to carry her to the bed. She stirred awake.

“Are you feeling better?”

He nodded. She smiled in relief.

“There’s porridge…” she told him.

He nodded again, and turned to walk into the kitchen. She pulled him back. “I’ll go, you rest,” she said.

“I’m better now,” he said. She didn’t argue anymore.

“What should we do now?” Gary asked, after their meal.

She shrugged. The dark clouds gathered in the sky, threatening rain. “It looks like it’s going to rain again,” she sighed.

“Let’s just stay at home,” he told her. She nodded.

They sat on the sofa and watched as the first raindrops fell.

They watched the rain splattered onto the windows, they watched the lightning split across the sky and they listened to the thunder roar like a tiger.

“When I was a child,” Gary said, breaking the silence, “I used to be afraid of thunderstorms because the thunders were scary.”

Jihyo smiled. That was understandable, she had been afraid too. Even as an adult, she still gets shock sometimes.

“I thought that they were sounds made by monsters,” he continued. “But my mother told me that they were just people in the skies throwing tantrums. She said that when people died, they went up to heaven and sometimes they miss their loved ones so much, so they start crying. And when one starts to cry, the rest follows as well. That’s how we get rain and thunder.”

She smiled. If it were in the past, she would have laughed at the absurdity. But now, she finds it heart-warming… somehow. This explanation made something scary into something bittersweet. It made a natural phenomenon a lot more meaningful… but that’s how life is. And that’s how life