*this is a sequel of this. Please read it to get a clearer picture of what's happening.

It's been quite awhile now but I still love the way he looks at me. Shy and half-cocked as though he is caught off guard, like he is retracting his steps to remember all the ways to make me smile. Initially, I was scared because it always seemed like he looks cold and unforgiving. But as the days went by, I realised that it wasn't that he couldn't smile or communicate.

It's just that his smiles and warm looks were only reserved for me.

"Thank you..."

Every Sunday, I will come out and sit by the beach and he would bring me flowers without fail, telling me stories about his day, his work or even asking me how my day went even though he most likely would have heard it from his maids and bodyguards.

And sometimes, he attaches me to a metaphor I've never heard before, when I thought I must have heard them all.

"Have you ever have your heart broken...?"

Even though I know that we're supposed to be an engaged couple, I still couldn't bring myself to call him name of affections and as much as he tries to cheer me up and all, I could still sense the fear and awkwardness in him, though I wasn't quite sure the reason behind it. I asked that question because I thought that someonebroke his heart once and now he couldn't bear to be apart from the ocean. I kind of linked it with the fear and awkwardness, thinking that perhaps, we had this engagement in a fit of impulse because the woman he loved, had dumped him or something. That's why he couldn't bring to tell me the truth.

It took him a moment or two before he answered, staring at the sea and letting out a weak smile.

"I didn't, but I broke someone else's heart instead."

I raised my brows, surprised at the revealation.

He didn't look at me, but just continued, staring at the vast, blue sea, "don't you think it's strange how the smallest things can wreck a ship? Like a rock, or a wave, or a hairline crack in the hull. Just like how these small little things wreck a ship, she was easily affected by me. A small gesture from me can make her feel all so warm and fluffy inside, or like a mere 'no' can broke her heart into a million pieces."

I could see his expression softened and my heart ached for him. All of a sudden, he turned around and looked at me, giving a smile.

"You know, you're my little stowaway..."

He said it sadly, tenderly, as though I can sink him.

And I recognized that smile. That handsome smile that was filled with a confusion of remorse and love and I had seen it somewhere. It was one of those times when I think it could surface - when I sense it at the top of my tongue. When I feel it struggling to hurry from my chest like a beach ball that can only be held beneath the water for so long.

But then, it never came.

Just like how my memories never did come back.

I let out an apologetic smile, breaking away from his gaze, "Do you know that kind of feeling? Like you've lost something but can't remember what it was. It's as though you're trying so desperately to think of a word but it won't come to you. It seems as though I've said it a thousand times before and it was always there - right where I've left it. But now, I can't recall it. I tried so hard to make it appear and it almost does, but it never does."

I gave a sigh and finally found the courage to look at him again, giving a sheepish smile, shrugging my shoulders, "I guess this is how amnesia feels like huh?"

I saw him frowned a little, "is regaining your memory really that important to you?"