She didn't even want to think about what had happened after. What happened after was something she wasn't proud of. Other than vomiting, she had made a complete fool out of herself when she had allowed him to walk her to her house.

It was still the same house she grew up in. The only difference was that the house paint was fresher and the lawn was mowed back then. She didn't have time for those these days. Repainting money could be used to buy Ahreum's necessities and all the time she could use to mow the lawn was all used in the rose farm.

He knew that house like the back of his hand—he used to be the boy next door, after all—and he had spent quite a lot of time there when they were kids. That was probably why it wasn't all that hard for him to carry her intoxicated self on his back and walk her home. He knew precisely were the spare keys were kept, too. Fifteen years after he had migrated to the big city, he had confidently walked to the corner of the porch and crouched, retrieving the spare key from under the troll statue.

She talked herself into changing the hiding place for it for years now but there was this big risk of her forgetting where the new place was going to be so there it stayed, under the troll statue at the corner of the porch for more than three decades of her life.

And so, there they were— and he remembered.

He had no trouble finding where her room was. It was at the right of the kitchen and beside the nursery which was what he had known as her parents' bedroom before. He carefully placed her on the bed before sauntering unwelcome in her bath. She could hear water running and she was quite sure that he was going to tell her to wash up. She got up before he did and went to the bath and shooed him away.

She didn't tell him to leave and also didn't say her gratitude towards him. In fact, she took her time in the bath, scrubbing her body and herself sober. She assumed he was going to leave because she, in fact, didn't even invite him inside the house.

But he didn't. He was there, sitting in the kitchen, helping himself to a glass of hot cocoa he had heated up in a pan. She had made it in the morning but didn't had the chance to drink it but there Hae was, sipping on that same hot cocoa from a cup and behaving like it was natural for him to just be there.

That would've been a normal sight fifteen years ago, but now, it wasn't.

Not at all.

"Long time no see." He greeted her warmly.

"I thought you left already." Dara answered, clutching her robe around her body tightly. Underneath the robe was her mommy pajamas but she felt exposed, her face all bare right in front of him.

"I wanted to talk to you in the party."

"Then, why didn't you? I was there the whole night and you had all the opportunity to talk to me."

"You were busy with a fellow." The was a hint of something in his voice but she didn't know what it was so she just ignored it.

Smiling, she answered him, "Ilwoo is a nice chap. He entertained me for the whole night. Had a lot of fun even if I don't really like those kinds of events."

"He entertained you, alright. Kept passing you all those drinks but didn't even have the courtesy to help you when you were puking all your insides out."

"Were you stalking me?"

"If I say yes, would you call the police on me?"

"Maybe. I'm thinking about it now, actually."

"Dara."

"Look, Hae, you said you wanted to talk."

"Yes, but truthfully, I know you've got a lot to drink tonight. Maybe I'll come over tomorrow and see if it's a good time?"

"There's no good time for me, frankly." She said, folding her arms up to hug herself. "How have you been?" She finally asked, composing herself as she walked towards the table. She sat beside him, handing him a cup for him to fill with hot cocoa.

"I've been here and there."

"I would guess so. You never bothered telling me where you were going, after all."

"That was fifteen years ago, Dara."

"And you had that much time to tell me at least where you were."

"Would you have understood?"

"I would have tried."

"We both knew you wouldn't have even if they all told you to, right?" Hae asked.

"No, I suppose not."

"How's your stomach?"

"What?"

"Your stomach. You were puking your guts out—"

"I had a little too much to drink. "

"Well, that guy Ilsan—"

"Ilwoo—"

"What?"

"His name is Ilwoo. And I was drinking on an empty stomach. So don't blame him. I was entirely at fault here." Dara said, taking another sip from her cup, when Hae stopped her. "You're in my territory, you know. I'm head of household here."

"I took the liberty of heating up that cream of corn I saw in your cupboard. You weighed like paper when I was carrying you. Figured you'd want to eat."

"What you cooked isn't really food, Hae."

"Your stomach's pretty upset. Just looking out for you."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, if you must know." Dara defended, watching him standing in the middle of her kitchen and looking at her with genuinely concerned eyes.

"Perfectly capable, you say? All you have in your fridge are snacks for little kids. Is that all