Weeks passed as usually, and the girl found herself growing more and more fond of Luhan's presence in her life. Seeing him was like breathing – it was necessary for her. Her hand was really getting better (she was able to make her fingertips twitch) and with ignoring the news, came a kind of calm she hadn't felt in a long time. There was no need to make herself feel bad by looking at the bad in this world, by knowing it. Luhan taught her that, and owing to that mindset she found herself becoming happier with each day that passed. 

However, one thing never left her mind. She didn’t try to show it, but it was evident at the back of her mind. Curiosity regarding Luhan. Still, she didn’t know anything about him. What had his life been like before he'd gotten admitted into hospital? Since when had he known about his illness? What about his family? There was so much she didn’t know. Hell, she didn’t even know his exact age, as he never talked about himself.

Once when Hana tried to pry indirectly, he easily avoided to answer properly.

“Luhan,” she had whispered, whilst leaning against his shoulder. Although the boy looked fragile, he didn’t feel like that. His shoulders felt robust and they were broad for his build. His arms were rather lean, but nonetheless they had muscles, which Hana came to realize right after she'd asked him a certain question. “I don’t know anything about you … Tell me about the boy called Luhan,” she softly mumbled, noticing that he stiffened a bit. Within a second, she was lying on the ground, her hands almost touching his chest as he was hovering above her, having one arm propped up to support his weight, since he didn’t want to crush you.

Holding her breath, she stared up at him with wide eyes. The proximity made her nervous and she noticed her heartbeat becoming more and more evident in her ears. “Lu–” she began, but her voice broke off as she could suddenly feel a touch on her cheek.

Luhan gently cupped her cheek; his skin felt wonderful against hers. “These sessions are not for me, but for you, did you forget?” He asked in a soft tone, tenderly gazing at the girl. The look in his eyes captured Hana, just like every time she looked in his eyes, making her unable to grasp a single proper thought. And the sensation of his palm touching her skin wasn’t making it easier for her.

How was she supposed to successfully find out something, when he was doing something like this?

Having lost the focus, she mumbled, “Mhmm,” still unable to tear away her gaze from his hazel eyes. The male smiled at her dazed expression, as his hand moved from her cheek to her hair. His fingers grasped a strand of hair, which he put behind her ear. “Good girl,” he whispered and patted her head lightly, before suddenly sitting up, leaving a dumbfounded Hana lying on the ground back.

“It's not about me,” he added quietly, once he was sitting again. The girl hadn't heard it.

With the passing time, came autumn and the Chuseok holidays. The latter being something Hana wasn’t content with. Chuseok holidays were the few days in which the visiting times in the hospital was extended because many patients' family used the holidays to visit them, as they were free from work during those three days. And the girl couldn’t help but feel anxious at the very thought of her parents visiting her. She wanted to avoid it as much as possible. Just when she had successfully forgotten about the world outside the hospital, the holidays had to arrive, didn’t they? There was always a cruel twist … 

She felt torn, not knowing whether she wanted them to stay away or whether she wanted them to come. At the thought of seeing them in this hospital, she began feeling weird. It was a mix between hope and the feeling of knowing you'll be disappointed anyway.

Hana tried to ignore it. She wanted Chunseok to pass quickly, without having to deal with a possible reunion with her parents that might or might not disappoint her. So, when the first day of the holiday began, the girl forced herself not to think about. If they came, so be it, and she'd get scent of it on the day it would happen. She didn’t want to cudgel her brains with it.

However, it was hard not to think about it, when the hospital was filled with families. When she walked through the corridor, all she could see were smiling faces, all she could hear was hearty laughter, and all she could feel was envy. The children or adolescents – even adults – looked so sincerely happy when they saw their families. They hugged each other and happily talked, exchanging greetings and talks. The children were especially delighted at the presents and food. Songpyeon, Hana thought with nostalgia. That had always been her favorite during the Chuseok holidays. 

It was hard to see all those happy families, as it gave such a huge contrast to what hers was like. Feeling her heart literally clench at the sight, she quickly escaped to her room. But what she didn’t expect, though, was the sight of her parents standing in her room once she opened the door.

Hana froze, feeling unable to breathe properly, and her hands trembled slightly – whether that was from happiness or anxiety was unclear to her. “Hana,” both of her parents called out. The girl's ears twitched at the sound of her name. During the past few weeks, the only voice saying her name that she'd been hearing was Luhan's; and now it felt weird to have her parents say it, but she couldn’t deny that one feeling. She actually missed hearing their voices say it; even if she herself would never admit it. Even if she herself would never realize it.

Besides that, the girl realized how long it had been since she had last seen them. The only times they had been to the hospital was when she got admitted to it right after the accident and one week after that. The following weeks, they had called her, telling her work was keeping them busy. After a while, phone calls became messages on the answering machine; those became text messages. Day after day, those became rarer. Soon, it seemed like her parents didn’t even feel the need to apologize for not being able to visit her. But Hana never called them anyway. The reason? She didn’t really know it. Maybe to see if they were actually interested in their daughter's well-being? Or maybe simply childish defiance? Did she want to tell them that she didn’t need them? The reason remained unclear, but that didn’t matter. The silence between her and her family soon became standard. And either both sides were too stubborn to break it or both sides weren't interested in each other's life anymore.

The bad news Hana had seen in the newspapers didn’t help, either. The girl began to feel the same negative emotions she had felt years ago (before things seemed to have become better thanks to her breakthrough with her art), and soo