AUTHOR'S NOTE:  I apologize for the lack of updates.  I've been in mourning.  =/  Thank you to all my kind friends that checked up on me... and cried with me.  I swear, you're the best!  And I never thought I'd say this, but...

PLEASE SKIP THE NEXT TWO CHAPTERS 

I've written them purely for selfish reasons.  I'm nervous/wary for even putting these up!  They were never intended to be part of the storyline, but after lengthy consideration I feel compelled to write this now instead of later.  You do not need to read Chapters 37 & 38 to continue the story.  If you decide to, please read at your own caution.

As many of you know, Taeyang's beloved Boss passed away on June 10, 2013.  It was an unexpected death, since days before Taeyang posted a pic of Boss right after surgery and it appeared like things were on the mend.  We all knew the road to recovery would be long and hard, but never did we expect him to leave Taeyang so suddenly.  And based on tweets that followed afterwards... you could tell how deeply saddened Taeyang was. 

I am heartbroken.  As fans, we know how sensitive YB will be during this time of grieving; how he'll blame himself over something he had no control over.  Because Boss was more than just a pet.  He was YB's constant companion - the epitome of "Naman Barabwa".  I can only pray that he'll find comfort through his family, friends, fans, and music during these tough times.  I hope that he can find strength and solace to let go.  To remember that Boss is in a better place now.

After several days of bawling my eyes out,  the next dilemma hit me:  Amina and Boss.  Ottoke.

I intended to bring Boss back towards the end of the story, but my heart just isn't in it.  I can't find it in me to write about Boss as if he were still alive, when I know how much YB misses him in real life.  Even though this is fiction (I have to remind myself of this sometimes!), I know I'd eventually write about Boss's death one way or another - just because this story is set in the future.  I've decided to do it now... so I can get past my mini depression all in one swoop.

So for those of you who think I've written this as a means to exploit something personal and private - I completely understand.  The ethical battle weighed heavily on my mind before I starting writing and it still bothers me greatly.  If this were written 2-3 years from now, maybe I wouldn't be so bothered by it.  Or maybe I still would be.  I don't know.  But purely for the context of this story (ethical matters aside), I think back on how heavily Boss played a role in Amina's recovery, the close bond they shared, and it bothers me more to pretend like his death could never occur.  To force myself to just ignore his death and write about his ghost of a memory.  So why not?  Because it could complicate the storyline?  Drive Amina further into her depression?  Maybe... but that's the way life is. 

Unexpected.

with love - msvickie 06/22/13

“And this is where the magic happens.”

The sound of Amina’s muffled laughter followed closely behind Youngbae’s smile as he led her into his bedroom.  Amina took in the familiar pieces of furniture and décor she had seen from over a year and a half ago.  Only this time, the room was smaller, there was less clutter, and the homey yet awful green Laura Ashley flower wallpaper was nowhere in sight.  They had driven to the dormitory after work and this was the first time that she was seeing the new place.

A small shuffling sound came from inside the closet.

They both looked at each other with curious open expressions before Youngbae walked over and pulled the door open.  There, in the middle of the small walk-in, was Seungri on his knees.  His hair was frazzled and he was sorting clothes into two baskets.  One filled with darks.  The other filled with whites.

“Seungri-yah,” Amina called out, watching in amusement as his wide eyes turned into full blown embarrassment.  “What are you doing in there?” she grinned.

“Ah…” Seungri sheepishly smiled.  “Just some of hyung’s laundry.  I told him I would help him out.  You know, since his album is coming up and all.”

“Oh,” Amina replied.  She could see Youngbae smirk from the corner of her eye.

“Help me?” Youngbae chided incredulously.  He turned towards Amina.  “Ani… this is his punishment for ‘helping’ too much.  I figure, one week of laundry is sufficient for someone who ratted out his hyung.”

“Bae-yah…” Amina quietly coaxed, her eyes twinkling into his.  “I thought you were going to 'thank' him instead.”

“I am,” Youngbae replied matter-of-factly, his lips twitching with amusement.  “He should be honored to touch my clothes.”

Amina grinned.  “Careful.  You may find a few pieces missing or defected by the time he gets done with them.”

Youngbae’s face fell as his eyes went directly towards the basket full of clothing.  He knew Seungri often “borrowed” clothes from Jiyong’s closet from time to time, but Seungri’s tastes and his own varied drastically. There was no way the maknae would be caught dead in his garments.  But ruining them on the other hand…

“Hey!” Youngbae interjected, startling Seungri in the midst of his studious task.  A dark cotton swatch fell onto the floor, causing the owner to immediately flush.  “Is that… are those my boxers!?”

“Hyung, you said your laundry,” Seungri dryly replied, feeling affronted.  “That includes everything.”

“Neh,” Youngbae retorted.  “But I didn’t say you could make love to them with your hands!”  He grimaced.  “Just… just go!  I’ll do my own laundry.”

“Jinjja?” Seungri piped up, glowing relief evident in his brown eyes.  He crawled out on his knees and grabbed Youngbae’s hands, bowing profusely.  “Gomawo hyung!  Gomawo!”

“Yah!” Youngbae spat, feeling mortified with each passing second.  He flushed even more upon hearing Amina’s laughter behind him.  “Get up!” he ordered, shoving Seungri’s hands away. 

Seungri quickly stood up and gave a deep formal bow, going on about how relieved he was to be taken off punishment, telling how much trouble he had when one of the sweaters turned out to be both black and white, and explaining how his hyung probably just saved his life because he had to hold his breath the entire time while sorting because the smell of sweat from the workout clothes reeked so bad.

“Yah!” Youngbae exclaimed again, feeling at his wits end.  “Just leave!”

“Arasso, arasso,” Seungri bowed meekly again, as he backed out of the room.  He closed the door behind him, but could still hear the echoes of Amina’s laughter in the hallway.

“Aish…” Youngbae hissed under his breath.  He went into the closet and picked up the discarded boxer, tossing it none-to-gently inside the proper basket.  He started taking off his own sweaty shirt and stripping off his sweatpants.  He eyed Amina as she sat on the edge of the bed, the spasms from her laughter still far from over.  “Do you find it funny?”

Amina wiped tears from the corner of her eyes and slowly nodded.  “Neh,” she grinned.  “Because he’s right.  Your clothes really do stink.”

Youngbae came out of the closet, clad in nothing but his boxers, and walked gingerly to the bedroom door.  “Oh, is that right?” he arrogantly asked, raising an eyebrow.  He secured the lock and slowly made his way over to her.

“Neh,” Amina replied, still smiling up at him.  “I told you… it’s your sweat.  No human being sweats as much as you do,” she explained.  “You should probably go see a doctor about it or something…”

“Why do I need to go see a doctor when I have one right here?” he huskily asked, planting his fists on either side of her hips as he leaned down.

“Bae-yah!” Amina panicked, seeing his sticky skin descend upon her.  He had a mischievous grin on his mouth as he crouched forward, blocking any chance of escape.  His face hovered directly over hers, backing her onto the mattress.  With assured confidence, he buried his nose into the crook of her neck.

She shrieked.

He immediately clamped his hand over .

“Shh!”

Amina stared at Youngbae wide-eyed.

“I’m the hyung in this apartment, so we have to set an example for the dongsaengs, arasso?” he whispered.

Muffled noises.

He removed his hand.

Amina grimaced.  “I could taste the sweat on your hand too,” she groaned, as he chuckled quietly on top of her.  Her eyes filled up with wonder.  “How in the world did you end up with two of them this time?”

“Well someone has to keep Seungri out of trouble,” Youngbae replied, his eyes roaming affectionately over her face.  “And since Daesung and I hardly go out, we figured it was best to keep him close by.”

She eyed the grin on his face, feeling her own lips tug up at the corners.  “Poor Seungri… he’ll never have fun now with you two.”

“You don’t have to go out to have fun,” Youngbae replied absentmindedly, his efforts concentrated on untucking her undershirt.  “You just have to be creative, that’s all.”  His hand slipped under the thin material and started moving up along her torso.

Suddenly, it became difficult to catch her breath.  Amina let out a small gasp when she felt his hand cup her .  “J-just creative?” she whispered shakily, feeling her world spin. 

“And quiet,” he whispered against her lips.  “You have to be very quiet.”

He pressed his lips on her soft pliant ones and began kissing her slowly, moving his head at an angle.  Amina parted , allowing him to sink deeper, kissing her with more pressure this time.

A persistent buzzing came from below. 

Amina broke off their kiss and turned her head towards the sound, his mouth blowing raspy breaths of air against her ear.  “Bae-yah… your phone.”

Another buzz.

Youngbae lifted off Amina, his eyes scanning the hardwood floor.  He walked back towards the closet and dug through his sweats, pulling out his smartphone.  It was his umma.

“Yoboseyo?”

Amina could hear the sound of his mother’s concerned voice.  She slowly sat up, smoothing her shirt back down into place.

“Today?”  Youngbae asked, his eyebrows creased in concern.  “What did they say?”

There was a pause in the conversation as someone else came on the line.  Amina furrowed her brows, a sense of uneasiness settling upon her shoulders.

“Hyung…” Youngbae’s deep concerned voice began to rise.  “What did they say?” he repeated again.  He listened intently, his dark brown eyes flickering with alarm.  The contours of his jaw line tightened with every passing second.  “Ani, bring him here,” he gritted out.  “Neh, I’ll call Dr. Lee.”  He hung up the phone and looked at Amina, evident worry written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” Amina breathlessly asked.

He could see the same worry mirrored in her deep brown eyes, the anxiousness that lingered there.  He pressed his lips together, as if by some force he could hold back the news.  “It’s Boss-ah.  He wasn’t feeling well all day so they took him to the vet.”  Youngbae bit his bottom lip and glanced away, his eyes unfocused on a distant object.  “They say he needs surgery for a herniated disc.”

Amina felt raw fear form at the pit of her stomach.

“I told hyung to bring Boss-ah back to the city,” Youngbae woodenly continued.  “I want a second opinion.”

Amina stood up next to the bed on shaky limbs, feeling her heart race.  “Is he in pain? Where are you taking him?”  She tugged on Youngbae’s arm, gaining his attention.

“There’s an animal hospital by our apartment.  Lee Jaeyong sajangnim is who we usually visit,” Youngbae calmly spoke, even as mind raced ahead.  He could see that she was getting worked up about it.  “He’ll tell me the truth.  Whether surgery is necessary or not.”

“Then we should go,” Amina frantically appealed. 

He began to shake his head.  “You shouldn’t go.  You’re already upset.  It’s not good for the baby…”

“Ani, take me with you,” her voice cracked as she rushed through her plea.  “I want to go.”  Her eyes begged him.  “Please…”

Youngbae looked down at her ash-stricken face, feeling his own façade crumble before her.  He nodded his head solemnly.  “Fine,” he relented with a heavy heart.  “But hyung won’t be here for awhile, so it’s no use going straight there now.  We’ll go back to the apartment and wait.”

She began to shake her head in protest.

“Neh,” Youngbae ordered, his eyes steely and determined.  He gripped both of her arms and looked into her frightened eyes.  “I need you to calm down.  If you can’t calm down, you can’t go with me.  Arasso?”

Her breathing hitched.  “A-arasso…” she nodded jerkily, pulling herself back together.

After taking the quickest shower in the history of her life, Amina frantically balled her wet hair into a semblance of a bun and hog-tied it down to her head.  She didn’t even bother drying every inch of her body as she wrestled with her sweats, the cotton material snagging in spots against her wet skin.  She shoved on a sports bra and grabbed the nearest shirt available in the closet.  Walking frantically around the room, she opened her nightstand and tucked Boss’s favorite chew toy inside the palm of her hand before slipping the over-sized t-shirt over her head.

“I’m done.  Let’s go!” Amina anxiously urged, as she breezed through the hallway and made a beeline towards the foyer.  She began shoving her feet into muddied worn tennis shoes, not even bothering with socks. 

There was no movement in the apartment.

Did he already leave?

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as panic set in.  “Bae-yah!” she yelled, feeling on the verge of hysteria.  She took a couple of steps into the galley-way kitchen and felt her breathing return to some semblance of normalcy.  Because the moment she started in, she could see the back of his broad shoulders outlined by his white t-shirt, his hair faintly damp from the recent shower.  He stood frozen in front of the open pantry.

“Oppa… let’s go,” Amina cried softly, stepping up and around to face him.  She peered into Youngbae’s eyes and could tell he was thinking hard about something.  She followed the direction of his gaze until they landed on the bag of special doggie treats.  A small throbbing began deep inside her chest. 

Amina quickly grabbed the bag and shoved the pantry door shut.

“C’mon oppa… let’s go,” Amina pleaded, tugging on his arm.  But he didn’t budge.  There was a haunted look in his eyes that was beginning to scare her.  “Oppa?” Amina whispered, her eyes silently begging him to look at her.  She pressed his forearm into her abdomen and his cold skin.  “Oppa...”

“D-do you… do you think I tugged on his leash too hard that day?”  His heartbroken eyes implored her.  “The day I grabbed him from you?”

The guilt-stricken tone of his voice made hot tears sting the back of her eyes and blood rush to her face.  He was blaming himself already.  Amina shook her head, her red lips trembling with pain.  “Ani… you could never hurt him.”  She blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her vision.

He nodded solemnly, but the uncertainty and doubt still lingered in the depths of his eyes.

“C’mon oppa.  Your hyung should be close to the city by now.  We should be there when they arrive,” Amina quietly coaxed.

They arri