.

WAS 4:

“Did you love me?!”

“Yes…with all my heart.”

TRUTH

“Did you love me?”

“With all that I am.”

That’s true.

“Was your proposal, genuine?!”

“Yes.”

TRUTH.

“Was your yes, sincere?”

“I was sure of you, it was right from my heart.”

She’s saying the truth.

“Did you cheat on me?!”

“Never.”

TRUTH

“Did you cheat on me?!”

“No.”

It was as if the pain her heart felt woke her up. She dreamt of her and Jiyong in a dimly lit room. It was like in a movie, where they interrogate criminals. There was a faceless person, who’s checking the polygraphs. It’s as if her body got some wires attached, she wasn’t sure of what is exactly happening in her dreams. What she knows was she’s facing Kwon Jiyong. Her dream was too vivid that his eyes boring into hers is still felt by her conscious body. Her dream was cut short, for she knew he lied and her soul woke her up.

She felt a tear escaped from her left eyes, “Oh…”

After years of not feeling anything, a genuine tear was fueled by a dream of him and her in a room. She groaned, “No.”

The no’s were countless in between her sobs, she refuses all the feelings that embraces her this cold lonely night. The rare nights when memories of them skips through her brains, the happy ones that weighs more pain because she longs for it. She curled up all alone in her bed, “Jiyong…” It’s the first time she cried out of longing, at least the pain was only secondary. It was a development, and she has no idea why. She cried in her sleep, wishing that she will not have another dream of him again. She allowed herself to cry because when the sun rises, her heart will be on guard again.

As the woman cries to drift back to her sleep, a man chose to read a book, to perish thoughts of her. No matter how hard he tries to, he can never. He can’t, and he won’t. Especially when he flipped a page of the book he’s reading there was a neon pink post-it, crisped by time. The ink has faded, he chuckled at how she wrote a random message with her cute handwriting and her signature doodle, “Jagi—do not skip meals. Be strong! I love you!” She knows that he rereads his books and posted all the little messages on pages where he likes a quote. The little things are not so little after all.

“I am proud of you, baby!”

“I will miss you!”

“I miss you.”

There was even a polaroid of her, and “Girlfriend shot!” was marked, her little hearts made him jello. He chuckled tracing the little corners of the fading polaroid. Funny how what he feels for her will never fade, she was his…she was his one and only.

He whispered before planting a kiss on the photograph of her, “I want you back…” like always. It was a little prayer before he can meet her in his dreams. He needs to be alive to get her back where she’s supposed to be, right beside him.

In the cold silent nights, “I miss you so much…” He lulls himself to sleep with memories of them. The blissful ones so he can have his sweet dreams. Even there at least, she spares him a glance.

---

Sandara knows the look the man in front of her, is giving. She cackled, “He sees me as a woman.” To say the least, it was flattering but she has been used to it. But somehow, nobody has ever given her the intensity of Kwon Jiyong’s gaze. The gaze of him, where love just pours in and overflows.  

She remembered the event both attended, she never turned to face him, but she feels his stares are burning holes somehow drilling into her soul. That time, her heart does not have the erratic beats, but his mere presence suffocated her.

“You stare too long, my friend.” Too long for it to be platonic. The man with her chuckled, “If we get spotted by Dispatch, what will your agency say?” he asked.

“That you are a friend.”

“Like you said, I stare too long to be just a friend.”

“Trust me-- you are.”

She’s too cold and too cruel. It was as if she went back to being herself, before Jiyong crashed down her walls, like the armoured Titan that he is. Armoured with pure love and adoration, but also equipped with empty promises and contradictions. He coated his words and gained her trust that he will be different, what she tasted was just utter disappointment.

The man cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts, “It’s been years, since I played this game you got Dara.”

“What game?!” she sneered. “Do not be bitter, it doesn’t suit you.” His remark annoyed her. She appreciates the companionship and the good words but once her friends try to change what she feels her teeth clenches with despise.

“I am the one who decides of what I should feel.”

“Then throw away whatever you feel for him.”

“I did throw him away.” She snorted.

The man smirked and stopped himself from saying more than what he should. She is stubborn, but she’s been lighter than before, it was a little step. “People talked about you and him in the Vogue event, how was it?”

“Normal.”She turned her face to the window on her left, and she did not even touch her food. She ordered the white wine that her tolerance can take, but he only saw her take a sip once. They have been in the sweet confines of the restaurant for an hour or so.

“Define normal.” He lives in the way she smirks, pretending she