Oh Sehun is an interesting kid. For one thing, he wrote a whole diary entry about milk, complete with illustrations. On another note, he also has the future aspiration of being president not to mention that he dislikes any type of fierce looking dog. He also has this really stupid attractive habit of his lips often, no matter the time or place…not that you notice. Because obviously, you do not notice Oh Sehun. You're just his next door neighbor…since the beginning of time.

    Really, you've known Oh Sehun since the moment your mom held you in your arms and cooed to the neighbor's new baby. Not that you remember because you were only about one year old at the time. That's right! You were Sehun's noona! But did the boy care? Nooo. Even if it wasn't that big of an age difference, only one year really, you think that because you had kissed his boo-boos from the moment you turned six and he turned five you had a right to demand some respect, but no.

    But Sehun has changed over the years, and so have you. You've watched Oh Sehun develop from a chubby toddler to a beanpole child to a slender teenager with looks to kill. You've seen it all. His girlfriends, his boyfriends—especially that Chinese one, was his name Luhan?—and even his heartbreaks. Heck, you were the first one he came to when he cried over his confusing uality.

    Don't you deserve an award for putting up with him all these years? Don't you deserve an award for covering for him whenever he wanted to spend a night out or putting up with his annoying friend Jongin who always tried to hit on you when he had the chance? You aren't getting any awards, though, and you sure aren't getting any younger with him around.

    You dread the day Oh Sehun turns eighteen. Not because that means his parents will finally be able to rest their weary case and stop yelling at him because he's technically an adult. Not because Jongin promised to throw his friend the "biggest party ever", which promised to be "so killer". Not because your house is going to be raided by all eleven of Sehun's closest friends. No. You dread it because the day Oh Sehun turns eighteen is the day when he'll be able to spread his wings and fly away from you. Sehun's always had big dreams, but you're not a part of them.

    "Yo," Jongin calls from the kitchen. You're not sure what he's doing, and you're not even sure if it's legal, but you and Sehun's parents are both out of town on some vacation to "let their babies run free". Sometimes you really didn't like hippie parenting style.

    "What is it?" you call back, flicking mindlessly through channels on the TV. Only a few more hours to go until Oh Sehun is eighteen. You have to keep reminding yourself to not glance at the clock every five seconds.

    "Where do you keep your shot glasses?"

    You immediately jerk up out of your comfortable position on the sofa and run into the kitchen where you are greeted by Jongin's large grin.

    "Relax, will you?" he says, presenting the package of strawberry milk triumphantly. "Nothing illegal, I swear. Sehun would never dare bring it into your house."

    "He'd better not," you say threateningly, but you know that if Sehun asked you if it was okay, you would say yes. You don't like to admit what you felt for the younger boy, but you like to think that it was a sisterly feeling…if sisters basically fell into a wreck every time their younger brother his lips or flashed a tiny bit of skin. Oh gosh, you are so screwed.

    "When is everyone else coming?" you simply ask, groaning slightly at the thought of cleaning up after the party is over.

    "It's only going to be the twelve of us," Jongin replies, and you blink…once…twice…before bursting out into laughter.

    "This is your killer party?" you ask, scoffing. "Excuse me if I say that I've seen better."

    "Why?" Jongin asks, suddenly interested. He leans over the kitchen counter and grins. "Do you go to a lot of parties in college?"

    "That's for me to know and you to never find out," you reply, tapping your lips and jogging to the door where loud knocks are resounding. When you open it, ten boys stare at you, all holding bags or boxes which you assume are presents for Sehun.

    "Is Sehun here?" the Cute One asks, and you assign his name as Luhan because Sehun had specifically told you that you were not allowed to use weird nicknames around his friends anymore. Oh, the things you did for the boy.

    "He went to the store to buy party supplies," you reply, and all ten boys bustle into your house. You can't help but wince when the two tall ones manage to bump into the hanging ceiling light that illuminates the small entrance hallway.

    "Yeah. Let's try not to break anything this time," you say hopefully, still sore over the last time all twelve had been in the same household and had ended up breaking your mother's favorite vase. Not a good memory. Of course, Sehun had gotten out of trouble with his innocent face, but you…not so lucky.

    "Where should we put the presents?" the Bun asks. Xiumin.

    "You can put them on the coffee table over there by the couch." You point helpfully to the general direction and then wince as all ten boys try to squeeze onto the couch to watch TV. If it broke, you are so dead.

    "When's Sehun getting back?" the Smiler asks. Chanyeol.

    "Mm, anytime," you murmur noncommittally, trying to think of a way to excuse yourself from the party. You are absolutely sure that if you stay you'll end up a sobbing, blubbering, and totally unattractive mess of a girl. Besides, you still had to keep up the strict noona attitude you had with Sehun, but it seems like you're already replaced considering the amount of older boys he hung out with.

    And they all dye their hair, you bemoaned mentally, staring at the different colored locks. That must be so damaging. I would cry.

    "Noona," Kai trills from the kitchen, and you're off again, getting into the party planning until you can hardly believe it's time for cake.

    "Make a wish," you whisper from your spot beside Sehun as he stares at the eighteen candles flickering on the cake with a surprising amount of intensity. He his lips and mouths something that you would like to believe was "I wish for you", but then his lips are pursing in the cutest fashion possible, and all the candles are extinguished.

    You're the first to clap along with Luhan, and then everyone is embracing the birthday boy, pushing you off to one side where you decide to be useful and go retrieve a knife. When you're back, the Panda Boy—Tao—is crying, and Cutie Pie #1—Kyungsoo—is dabbing at his tears with a napkin.

    "What did I miss?" you ask, plopping down in your seat beside Sehun and sending Luhan a glare when he tries to move closer. No! You want to be selfish just this once.

    "I can't believe this is the last time we're going to see him," the Tall One says quietly. Kris.

    "Why?" You are completely clueless and completely suspicious of the way that Sehun's eyes seem to be flickering around the room, landing on anything but you. "Aren't you guys all going to the same college?"

    Jongin is the one who breaks it to you, quietly but firmly. "Noona, Sehun is leaving the country. He got a scholarship to go study performing arts in France."

    "France?" you squeal, and then you are placing your hand over your mouth to keep the sobs from spilling out. "France?" Your voice is high, squeaky, and entirely not you. "I'm sorry," you apologize when the tears start to flow. "I—I have to go!"

    "But this is your home!" the Troll exclaims. Chen.

    "I know!" you yell, but you don't have time to think before you're running out of your house and onto the street. Oh gosh. That was so embarrassing. You probably scarred Sehun for life. You probably scarred yourself for life because you were right. The day Oh Sehun turned eighteen, he was going to leave you, and you were going to be left with a painful, unrequited love.

    Someone's calling your name, so you run faster, though you're not sure that you could outrun any of Sehun's friends if they actually chased after you because they're all dancers and super athletic and not like you, a girl who prefers to spend her time inside rather than outside.

    Your feet take you to the neighborhood park before your brain even thinks of the idea, and like in all the bad romance movies, you sit on the swing, pushing furiously into the mulch with your feet and soaring into the air. Maybe, just maybe, if you fly high enough, you can forget about everything that's changing and that will change. Because Sehun is leaving. Because your feelings are still unconfessed. Because you're the biggest idiot in the world.

    You sigh and let your head rest against the cool chain of the swing. It's still cold outside though not as bad as before, but you still find yourself shivering after a few minutes. You wonder where Sehun is and if he even cares if you're crying. Your answer comes a few minutes later when Sehun saunters up to you and sits in the swing beside you.

    "I didn't know you would take it so badly," he says quietly.

    "Neither did I."

    "I would've told you before, but—"

    "Don't speak," you tell the younger boy before standing up and wiping at the remaining tears on your cheeks. "I understand. You're growing up, and when people grow up, they go their separate ways."

    "It doesn't have to be that way!" Sehun looks panicked now, and you wonder if he's panicked at the idea of leaving you or leaving his friends behind.

    "Sehun." You give him that "look", the look that you use to reassert that you are the older one among the two of you. "Sehun, I know."

    He says your name then, and you're about to complain about his lack of manners when he grabs you by the arms and practically hauls you to the top of the twisty slide. You try not to notice how well-defined his arms are. Oh Sehun has definitely grown up well.

    "Jump," Sehun commands, and you stare at him from the top where you're crouching disbelievingly.

    "I'm not going to jump off a slide," you say primly.

    Sehun his lips, slowly, teasingly, and you swear that he's doing it on purpose. "Noona, please jump!" he says with as much aegyo as he can muster.

    You jump, fully prepared to land on your own two feet, but then Sehun catches you in his arms, and you are left breathless.

    "I'm not a little kid anymore," he mutters petulantly.

    "Yeah," you say quietly. "You're not." You let out a little squeal when he shifts you from two arms to only one and close your eyes tightly for a few seconds, afraid that you'll fall. But you don't. Because Sehun holds you securely in his grasp. His other hand is rummaging in his pant's pocket.

    "Here," he says, and he opens a velvet box in front of your eyes, and you struggle in his grip because that's a wedding ring, and you're too far up off the earth to keep your head grounded.

    "Who are you proposing to?" you ask, your lips. You suddenly realize why Sehun did it so much. It worked surprisingly well to combat dry lips from nervousness.

    "You," Sehun replies seriously, and he brings you in closer to his chest with both arms this time. It's cramped and a little bit sweaty, but he manages to maneuver it so that the box is right in front of your eyes. All you have to do is just reach out and take it.

    "Why?" You don't reach out. Instead you turn your head away, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. "Why when you've never said anything for eighteen years? Why when you've dated and loved and been heartbroken? Why?"

    "Because when I was younger," Sehun says, and his eyes are once again flickering to look everywhere except you, "I always wanted to marry you ever since you kissed my paper cut in kindergarten. Once I set my sights on a goal, I'm very hard to dissuade."  Sehun gives you a smirk that sends your gut reeling.

    "Sehun," you start, but Sehun closes the box with a snap and puts it back into his pocket before placing his hand on your face.

    "I don't expect you to say yes right now. I'm not a five year old, but I just wanted to let you know that the offer is always open…now…or in the future."

    "Sehun!" And this time it's an exclamation of joy and also of longing because you so want to say yes now, but that would just be crazy, risky, and so dangerous. "Sehun, I can't marry you right now." Even if the boy knew it was coming, the expression he makes nearly breaks your heart. "But I can…give you something. A birthday present."

     When your lips touch his, everything in your brain short circuits, and you can swear there are jolts running through your body as you shiver, be it from the coolness of the night or the warmth of Sehun's mouth against yours.

    "Give me the ring," you command because you are the older one after all and therefore have more experience in all matters. You know how to handle this. Sehun his lips, hands it to you, and kisses you once again before giving you a cheeky grin.

    "Don't get smart with me, boy," you exclaim, but you don't mind when he insists to continue to hold you as you slip the ring onto the ring finger on your right hand. "It's really beautiful."

    "Just like you," Sehun says so quickly that it takes you a second before you comprehend the words and envelop him in a tight hug. There are tears in your eyes again, but this time they're created from happiness, not sadness.

    "Don't fall in love with any French girls, okay?" You try to hide your sobs in Sehun's shoulder as he sits down heavily on the mulch-covered ground.

    "I won't," he replies in a tone so serious that you look up with teary eyes and receive a firm, strong gaze. "It's you. It's always been you. It's only you. I would never leave you behind."

    "I'll wait for you," you promise, and it's true. Because no matter how much time it took, it already took you eighteen years to get this far. You're okay with waiting a few more.