Shin Dongwoo had never told her he loved her.

Not even once.

Of course, he tries to show it. He always showers her with gifts and attention. He holds her hand whenever he can, and hugs her tight until she pokes his cheeks and complains she can’t breathe.

I love you.

Three little words, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, even though the words run through his mind a million times a day, when he’s with his friends, when he’s with her, and all those other moments when out of the blue, her face pops into his mind and he stops everything that he’s doing and just stares off into space for while, a foolish smile lighting his face up.

I love you, he thinks every time they sit together on the couch in companionable silence, with her legs thrown casually over his own, she reading one of poetry books and he sketching her profile on the sketch book he always brings along.

I love you, he thinks when she rolls her eyes at him as he delivers one of his jokes which always sounds funny when heard from other people but not from him. She laughs anyway.

I love you, he thinks as he watches her twirl her fingers around her hair, nibbling at her pen as she tries to write yet another poem.

I love you, he longs to say every time they part, and there’s a soft look in her eyes that makes him want to reach out and hug her and tell her everything she wants to hear.

But he doesn’t, and as always, he just smiles and kisses her and keeps on showing her how much he loves her. And she never complains, never asks why. She just takes his awkward silence with a smile.

I love you.

He doesn’t want to say it so casually. He wants to say it in a way that would be sweet and romantic and unforgettable, because that’s exactly what she deserves for being the most perfect, most beautiful person in his life. He doesn’t want to say it even after she says she loves him, because he feels the words would somehow lose its meaning, and become an obligatory response for the words she has spoken.

I love you.

He wants to make it special, not just a passing moment that would be forgotten quickly. Dongwoo then has the idea to tell her when the first snow falls.

But then she starts to drift away.

There are less hugs and less smiles and less kisses from her and while Dongwoo desperately tries to hold on, it’s like she’s the one who wants to break off.

I love you, she tells him again. But this time it sounds more like a dare.

To which he responds with another long silence as he debates with himself, willing himself to say exactly what she wants to hear. Dongwoo opens his mouth then closes it again, a fish out of water.

She sighs, a long resigned sigh that somehow hurts Dongwoo more than words ever will, because with it he feels the last fragile thread holding them together snap and break.

Winter rolls around and he’s with her again, and Dongwoo tries his best not to cry when he sees snow falling outside the window. The first snow.

I love you, Dongwoo says now, squeezing her hand, but she doesn’t squeeze back.

I love you, he tries again, but she doesn’t even look his way.

I love you, and this time a tear escapes from his eye and he brushes it away and more tears follow after and he does nothing to stop them.

I love you, but the doctor is pushing him away, covering her face with a white blanket and muttering a string of condolences that do little to make him feel better.

I love you, he says one last time. I’m sorry.