While Luhan and Yoona were making plans about what they'd do to renovate Luhan's house, 30 kilometers away, Sehun is lying on the rooftop of Krystal's dorm, wondering why she's taking so long to return.

   I'd be home by 9, I promise Thehn. She blew him a kiss

   It's already 11 and there were no signs of her, no wafts of her perfume or the familiar groan she utters every ten minutes.

   He pulls out his phone and types: where are you? I miss you. Please come home.

   "No, no. Too desperate." He clears his message and writes in a new one: where are you now?

   "No, that's too boring. Ahh, I got it." Clearing the message again, he types and sends: where u at?

   This isn't the way to win her over, Sehun has realized that much, however the years spent with her taught him this is the only way for him to stay this close to her. Close enough that he could see the baby hairs on her face sway in the wind. Close enough to hear her sobs when her acrylics and watercolours demand too much of her. Close enough to wrap an arm around her shoulder when she needed extra reassurance that she's going the right way.

   He could still remember it as if it was yesterday: the day he first met Krystal.

    All of a sudden, the plain indigo sky before him fades into the brilliant blues of the past. The night's coldness leaves his bones, and in its place resides the familiar warmth of a spring afternoon. He was back to the year 2008, a time when everything was simple and the only problem he had was how much he could swindle out of Luhan to add to his weekly allowance.

   He was in the school library, not to drool over pages like Luhan, but to rest his head between them and get some much-needed sleep. He just finished the draft of his term paper which was due the following day.

   The perfect book was already in his hands. It was the latest edition of some sort of encyclopaedia--thick and boring enough to lull him to dreamland.

   Now, here comes the quest of finding the perfect spot to get some z's. Unfortunately, their library was designed in a way that all the tables and chairs could be visible to the attending librarian.

   Sleeping in the library was taboo and could earn you a resounding smack in the head with a book and a lengthy sermon by the librarian. It wasn't something he was excited to experience so Sehun turns his back to the tables and other students engaged in their studies.

   He walked over corners, in between shelves, and finally finds the perfect cubbyhole. If he hadn't been looking for a place to hide, he wouldn't have found it.

   Oh Sehun sat down, made himself comfortable, placed the book on folded knees and drifts off to lalaland.

   It's the sound of pen scraping against paper that roused him from sleep. The signs of pain introduced itself to him in the form of aching joints and a stiff neck.

   "If you really needed to sleep, you could have gone home. You didn't need to come here and invade my personal space. You should thank me for being kind enough to not spit in your face for what you've done," He jumped at the sound of a girl close by.

   He turned and saw a wave of cascading, dark curly hair, a slender neck adorned with layers of gold and black chokers, and finally, the girl who may have been very beautiful if it wasn't for the scowl on her face as she doodles something on her notebook.

   She stared at him and he's hit by a storm. "If you're awake enough to salivate like that, you might as well get up and go."

   Conscious, he his lips and tasted dried saliva. Talk about making a good impression. He must have been dreaming about doughnuts again. Man, he really needed a glazed one right now. "I'm sorry, and thank you."

    It's as if a switch has been flipped. The girl perked up and flashed him the brightest smile he's seen his entire life. "You're welcome! Feel free to come back here anytime."

   Talk about a split personality disorder.

"Here, take this as a souvenir and as a token of our friendship."  She tore a page from her notebook, folded it, placed it in his hands and instructed him not to open it until he's safely out of the library.

   Oh Sehun stole one last glance at her in her uniform and left, wondering how psychos could be like mushrooms that sprout randomly.

   He unfolds the paper in his hand once he's out of her sight.

   It was a sketch of him. He was sleeping with his mouth open, drool slipping from his lips, and a little note and signature underneath it: whatever food you're dreaming about, I'm here during this time if you need someone to eat with. Yours now, Krystal Jung.

   The memory fades, but the smile lingers on his face. From that day, he has never been alone. He'd be invading Krystal's privacy by snoring on her cubbyhole in the library, or looking over her shoulder as she sketches faces after faces. In turn, she would turn his wallet upside down and demand for a bubble tea from the shop down the street.

   Given the time, he would also become her informal critic. The tiniest details in her work would be scrutinized by his sharp eyes and even sharper tongue.

   I like drawing people's faces, just as they are, like without any pizazz. I like being able to portray them as they really are because it's only through this that real beauty shows itself. I'm obsessed with beautiful things. A car passed by them as they continued walking home. Krystal would sometimes share snippets of herself and hand them out to Sehun with the knowledge that he'd take care of her pieces.

   And he does. With every single breath, he does.

   Krystal Jung is a butterfly’s wing; something so fragile it’d crumble if held in the wrong way and Sehun was determined to keep her whole.

   You’re obsessed with beautiful things and so am I. I’m obsessed with you.

   He could hear her main door creak open and like a dog who waited on his master for far too long, Sehun jumped out of place and ran to greet Krystal. 

   “What took you so long? Do you know what time is it? Is this a time for respectable young ladies to be going home? Tsk, tsk.” Hands on his hips, Sehun paints a picture of a strict disciplinarian.

   Krystal has to laugh at that. “Relax, Thehn. Let me get comfortable first before you sermon me, ‘kay?”

   Sehun moves on to the kitchen, banging pots and pans until he’s faced with the electric kettle. He heats it up and calls out, “Are you still hungry? I made some mac and cheese earlier.”

   “Hmm, sounds delicious. I’ll take up your offer!” She calls out from her bedroom. “Luna-unnie chose one of those fancy restaurants to dine in. You know, the ones that serve you tomato with a shred of lettuce and charge you a hundred thousand won for it.”

   Sehun fixes up Krystal's meal together with her coffee.

   “I would have died of boredom from her stories about her boyfriend,” Krystal reappears in her Hello Kitty pyjamas and a bare face. “It was great that she brought a childhood friend of her along. His name’s Kim Jongin and he’s just the sweetest piece of chocolate that I’ve ever seen.”

   The fork from Sehun’s hand drops to the floor with a clang.

   He stares as Krystal makes herself comfortable on the table and devours her plateful of food.

   “I mean if he was a piece of food, he’d definitely be chocolate. He’s got the moodiest aura and the darkest eyes. There’s something about him that I find fascinating.”

   Meanwhile, Oh Sehun is as plain as they get.

   He picks up the fork and heads to the sink to wash it off. He has to use his left hand to hold his right one for it was shaking so much.  

   “I’d actually been talking to him the entire night, didn’t even notice the time pass by.”  

   “That’s great, stone.” Sehun croaks out. It’s weird how he could still manage to talk even when his ribcage feels like they’re caving in and squeezing all the air out of his lungs.

   “Look, Thehn, look!” He looks back and Krystal is flashing her phone at him. It’s Kim Jongin, calling. “Let me just answer this.”

   She begins making her way to the rooftop.

   “You still have to finish your food! That call can wait!”

   “No, it can’t! I’m not hungry anymore!” She retorts and disappears upstairs.

   The half-eaten plate and untouched mug of coffee keeps Sehun company as he waits, and waits, and waits.

   It would be easier, he finally decides, if Krystal just took the knife off the shelf and stab him with it a thousand times. It would be better. It would have hurt less.

   It’s only about an hour later when Sehun finished cleaning up the kitchen when he went up to the rooftop to check on Krystal.  

   The skies were darker now, darker than Sehun has ever seen them, without any signs of twinkling stars above. Krystal is lying still on the rooftop, eyes closed in surrender to sleep’s tight grip. Sehun takes a deep breath and forgets about Kim Jongin (that little bastard) and Krystal refusing to finish the food he prepared for her for the first time. For now, it’s just him, the night time, and the sleeping princess on the roof.

   Gently, he scoops her into his arms and lifts her over his shoulders. Being a heavy sleeper, Krystal wouldn’t have noticed how Sehun laid her on the bed, tucked the sheets around her shoulders, and sang a soft lullabye only Sehun could have heard.

   And count the stars to form the lines,

   And form the words we’ll sing in time.

   I want to keep her dreaming.

   It’s my one wish, I won’t forget this.

[a/n: new chappie up! REALLY GETTING INTO THIS WRITING-THINGY AGAIN AND I HOPE I CAN CONTINUE TO FINISH THIS STORY. I KNOW IT'S NOT MUCH BUT MG YOUR COMMENTS MAKE ME FEEL REALLY GOOD AND GREAT :) SO YEAH, THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT!]