"The little things? The little moments? — They aren't little."

—John Zabat-Zin

[Sorry for the long wait! Things have been very hectic @.@ Enjoy~!]

"I told you I'm fine, Jiyong!"

The stubborn man just glared at her as he continued to carry her towards his office. At first, he was about to call 119 but Dara slapped him out of his panic—literally and figuratively. Instead of being utterly concerned about her, Jiyong was now irritated, angry, and more worried about her. They were caught up arguing so heatedly with each other that they even forgot that they were covered in Dara's vomit.

"Like hell you're fine! Christ, woman, you smell like !" 

Infuriated, she hit him upside the head and sneered, "News flash, idiot. You smell like too!"

Their employees watched them with a mixture of amusement and fascination as they continued to bicker and worry about the situation they were in. Apparently, they didn't know they were being watched since they went all out with the insults and swearing. An HR employee who happened to pass by their floor just stood there helplessly as he let his ears bleed from the fight that would most likely result in a lot of paperwork and another company ethics seminar. 

Jiyong slammed his office door closed and hurriedly put the blinds that he installed on her glass windows. Dara now sat at what used to be her 'boss chair', grimacing and gagging at the smell of her putrid clothes. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed him taking out the huge backpack that she noticed that he always carried when she sees him going off to work. Curious, Dara watched him fixatedly, completely forgetting the godawful smell that emanated from her clothes. 

Completely beside himself with anxious thoughts, Jiyong absently pulled out a medicine kit from his bag, making Dara raise a brow. He set it up carefully on the edge of the desk, not even bothering to glance at her, before he went back to rummaging through his backpack. An odd look passed her face when she noticed him taking out a clean shirt  from his bag. Jiyong was so preoccupied with whatever he's doing that he failed to notice the older woman's inquisitive stare.

His figure loomed over her for a bit making her roll her chair away from him thinking that he was up to no good. Preparing for the worst, Dara watched in slight fascination when he opened one of the drawer's on the desk and pulled out some clothes that looked suspiciously like it belonged to hers. grew slightly agape at the sight while her brows furrowed, failing to comprehend why and how Jiyong knew that there were clothes in there. 

"W-What," she mumbled, stuttering and pointing at the woman's tracksuit that Jiyong had nonchalantly placed on her lap. "H-How?"

Finally, the younger man spared her an uninterested glance, his face letting out an involuntary smirk as he went back to looking through his bag. "Do you remember when you were in 6th grade and you pooped your pants." Dara was thoughtful for a second until her face flushed bright red at the memory. Jiyong chuckled at her reaction. "You didn't have any spare clothes back then and you were so embarrassed to have to borrow your class president gym clothes that you vowed to always carry spare clothes wherever you went." 

Throwing her hands up to her face in embarrassment, she muffles, "I can't believe you remember that!" 

Jiyong snorted, "I remember everything about you." he muttered. 

Somehow, that one little sentence got her heart racing more than she'd like. Her eyes flashed to him incredulously but before he could notice, he was already at the door and telling her that he'll be right back. Dara didn't know why but her pulse still paced hurriedly despite his absence. Although his presence was gone, she could still feel him in the room with his lingering scent. Shaking her head out of such thoughts, Dara spun on her chair when her eyes landed on the huge photo mosaic of her and her family—most of them highlighting a young Jiyong and Dara's smiling faces.

There was one picture that made her smile so big that her cheeks started to hurt. Her finger traced over a pouting boy's red, crying face as he held the hand of the girl sitting on the hospital bed. She laughed when she noticed that Jiyong was still wearing his tomato ensemble from his school play. The most that she could remember from that day was a whole lot of crying—her from the pain, and Jiyong crying because she was crying. It was one of those memories that always made her eyes lit up in nostalgia and bliss. 

And now that they're older, it was obvious that some things have changed. 

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" 

But there were some things that still remained the same. 

Dara flinched at the sound of his voice and before she knew it, her chair was turned around to face his worried gaze. There was a damp towel on his hand and a small tube of hand sanitizer on the other. Her mind unconsciously drifted back to the crying tomato photo of him and smiled to herself as she continued to stare at him unblinkingly. 

Jiyong scowled at the look on her face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Dara hid her smirk behind her hand and looked away. Jiyong's eyes were starting to moisture up and if she starts to act out from pain, he'll probably start crying any time soon. Hatching a dubious plan in her head, the conniving girl started to cough and Jiyong was instantly by her side in a blink. 

He was kneeling in front of her, hands gripping on the arm rests of her chair as he looked at her with a mixture of worry and dread. Dara had always believed herself to be a good liar but it was different with Jiyong. The little er somehow always sees right through her. But this time, his face just masked complete concern. The glint of suspicion that she was expecting didn't appear in his eyes. There was an anxious air of seriousness that surrounded him and the furrow of his brow and the frown on his face was making the scheming woman tenser at his every stare. 

With a last awkward cough, Dara patted her shrinking lips and blinked down at him. Her body was in conflict as she tensed and relaxed at the same time when Jiyong brushed her hair away from her vomit-stained chin. She swore that the man had yet to blink. It came to the point that she debated on whether or not his moistening eyes were a result of his fixed gaze or the urge of his sensitivity. 

"Change your clothes and I'll help clean you up." His voice came out so soft that she thought that she was looking at a different person. There were times where he had been gentle and considerate of her but it was always masked with his playful, bantering nature. The Jiyong right was looking at her so sincerely that she couldn't help the guilty scrunch of her face. Before she could assure him that it was all a ruse, he got up and walked to hold the plain white shirt that sat on the couch. 

Her eyes started to widen when she saw him taking off his blazer and hearing the rustles of him ing his shirt. Far too stunned at the recent and current events, her hands gripped on the arm rests tightly as she let her traitorous eyes watch the scene with slight fascination.

His back was too her front and observed the lines, indents, and muscles that showed as he finally took of his shirt. Even the way he tossed it to the side made something in her... quiver. Quiver with need? Hell no. Quiver from fright? Yes. Quiver from fright because of the mountain of thoughts going through her head? Hell ing yes. 

As always, her eyes landed curiously on the tattoos he had on his body. She'd always thought that Jiyong was too moral for his own good. He'd never curse until she started to express her potty mouth and he always seemed to give her a detestable look whenever they talked about drugs or when she says that she was going out to drink with her friends. Clearly, that was Jiyong from the past.

The man in front of her right now had tattoos, a more audacious vocabulary, and was willing to go out to drinks with his own buds. Seeing such a difference made her wonder if he was really still the same. Just what happened in those two years that made her forget? She racked her brain for something—for anything—but she couldn't find anything. 

Or maybe it just refused so that she could save herself from pain. 

Just as she grimly lolled her head back, Jiyong came back to view, wearing a clean and simple t-shirt. He raised his brow at her when the woman just stared blankly at him. 

"What's wrong?" 

She was asking herself the same thing.

"Dara?"

What was wrong with her?

The tender graze of his calloused fingers snapped her out of her melancholy and she blinked, glancing away since she didn't have the heart to look at the same concerned eyes anymore. 

"Hey." It was a whispered croak. "Talk to me, Dara..."  

She allowed herself to look at him but couldn't manage herself to speak. She would if she could but felt clogged and restricted. She couldn't even open to sigh. It was as if her body was shutting down and going into a defensive state. At one moment, her pulse rang in her ears. She closed her eyes and opened them to see a younger version of him. No tattoos were peeking on his neck and on his forearm and his face still adorned that slightly rounded jaw of his. His adolescent face however, wore the same tortured expression. 

"Dara." His voice was muffled. "Why are you doing this?"

What was I doing?

She closed her eyes again and opened them to see the same wounded look. Instead, his face showed subtle signs of age. The corners and lines of his face grew sharper and the inked marks of the past were etched on parts of his skin. He was saying something... something about promising to take care of her and saying that everything will be alright. It all felt familiar. Even the way he pressed his lips against her knuckles sent a ripple of uncertain recognition to her body. 

"Let's get you cleaned, alright?" 

Frozen by her own thoughts, Dara let Jiyong remove her blazer and rested her tracksuit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking at her as he started ing her blouse while she looked back at him with the same silence. It seemed like Jiyong was trying to show his restraint by not trying to peek at her but Dara didn't even care. Her eyes were too fixated on him. At the last button, he carefully helped her arms out from the sleeves as he draped her jacket more snuggly towards her. 

As he started to zip her up, a drop of something landed on her hand. Dara's hunch was right. Jiyong did cry. But he was too focused on tending to her that he didn't even notice his own tears stain his pristine shirt. His jaw was clenched tight but his hold on her was soft, almost faint. 

Finally opened, but no words came out. Jiyong was now patting and cleaning her face with the damp towel that he brought. His tears flowed freely but still, he refused to give in until an involuntary hiccup erupted from his throat making him cover his eyes and weakly put his head on her knee. He really is a crybaby, she thought.

Jiyong couldn't stop it and he cursed himself for not being able to. He gripped his thighs and breathed deeply to try to calm himself down but he couldn't. He was too weak and he didn't know what to do. 

"Jiyong..." Dara's hand brushed his hair sympathetically and she moved so that she could sit with him on the floor. His head immediately found its place on her shoulder while her hands instantly wrapped his body to soothe his back. She felt his arms wrap around her too as he snuggled closer and tucked himself tighter. 

He wasn't sobbing or making a sound but she could feel him drenching her neck down to her shoulder. Eventually, Dara cupped his cheeks to look at him and found the familiar face of the little crying tomato. A chuckle slipped past her lips as she let him rest his forehead against hers.

Suddenly, Jiyong's warm lips covered her giggles and Dara found herself succumbing to his relaxed pace like it was the most natural response. She didn't know how long was the kiss or how sane her mind still was but eventually, they found themselves pulling a part and going back to their initial position.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he muffled against her shoulder. 

His shyness after crying always endeared her. "I was fine from the start." she assured him. "I drank two mugs of coffee... I just drank too much." 

Dara got a hum in response and squeaked when he suddenly lifted her to his lap and sulkily embraced her again. Their cheeks brushed against each other as he sighed, "Stop worrying me so much." 

She rolled her eyes and gave him a hard pat on the back. "I'll try to restrain myself." 

"Don't hang out with him anymore."

"What?" Her head perked up but he put his hand on her nape and made her lay it back against his shoulder. "Who are you talking about?" 

"The guy your trying to making me jealous with." 

She snorted and lightly hit his head. "I'm not trying to make you jealous, pabo-yah." 

"But I already am." His hold on her tightened. 

Dara sighed in resignation and patted his back once more. "How childish." 

"Don't leave me alone." 

Her hand stilled as the memory of the same phrase echoed in her ears. There was that same desperate tone that made her heart clench and want to hold him much longer. Their temples rested against one another as she hummed and combed the back of his hair. 

"I won't." 

"Go on a date with me." 

Dara's head perked up again and Jiyong was unable to make her put her head back on his shoulder. She was looking at him with wide incredulous eyes while he looked at her with complete seriousness. 

"Go on dates with me." he corrected himself. 

She swallowed the growing lump on before she answered, "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm getting desperate and..." He tipped her chin towards him and made sure she caught his gaze. "I can see it in your eyes." 

She slapped his hand away and staggered as she stood up. See what in my eyes? Dara thought frantically. Panicked, she started heading for the door when he grabbed her wrist and pulled him flush against him. Dara refused to meet his eyes, scared that he'll see something in them again... scared that what he was seeing was right. 

"Give me a week." He pleaded. "Go on dates with me for one week and if you still don't feel the same at the end of it," The pained glint in his eyes begged her to look at him but she didn't. "If you still don't love me after that... I'll let you go. I won't bother you with confessions or proposals anymore but I'll still be by your side. I-I'm sorry but I can't stay away." he croaked. 

"Jiyong—"

"I won't bother you throughout the week." he added hurriedly. "I'll only be with you during our dates but you have to let me do what I need to do during then. Give me a week, Dara." he repeated, placing her hands on his cheeks. "Give me a week to prove myself." 

"I'm scared." she blurted out.

Jiyong kissed her head and closed his eyes as he let out a strained breath, "Don't be."

"You'll hurt me."

"That's the last thing I'd do." 

Her desperation grew worse. "I'll hurt you." 

"I'll take everything." 

"Jiyong." she begged. "I-I don't love you." 

He smiled sadly but his determination didn't wane. 

"I'll love you enough for the both of us." 

Her heart was running a million times a minute while her mind was going into complete chaos. Why did he have to do this? Why did she have to be the one? Why doesn't he understand? 

"Just one week, Dara... please." 

Why wasn't she fighting against it as harder as she should have?

"Okay."

Because there was a part of her that wanted to see... wanted to believe...

You let this happen.

-Day 1-

Jiyong wasn't kidding when he told her he won't bother her until their date starts. In the morning, all Dara got was a simple hello and a smile before carpooling to work like always. Jiyong didn't even try to make a conversation and she felt that he was getting a little too overboard with his promise. Because of that, she'd try to get a response out of him by asking some random and mundane questions. His answers however were always short and straightforward, leaving Dara scowling in her seat. 

Despite his stupid silence, Jiyong still had the decency to walk her to her new cubicle and remind her about her tasks. Dara just nodded, a little confused and irritated about his lack of response. However, before he could disappear to his office he said, "I'll take you home later and be ready by 7. Wear something casual." He was about to stalk off but she stopped him by asking where they were going. Jiyong simply glanced back and shrugged, "Just wear something comfortable." And then he was gone. 

Now the clock struck close to 7pm. Dara sat, bored, in her couch as her foot tapped relentlessly against her hardwood floor. She wore an red plaid shirt with a blank tank underneath and a pair of jean short and her worn out Vans. Her mom was at Kwon's, probably gossiping with Jiyong's mom about her doomed love life. She was just distractedly flipping