Do you know how extremely hard it is to be within fifty feet of the person who's just kissed you and basically told you that he likes you despite everything that's standing in your way-- without reaching up and touching your lips every couple seconds?

Yeah. Extremely hard. I couldn't think. Everything was one gigantic blur of craziness. I was like a girl on drugs. I just let Jung Ah pull me everywhere. Away from my aunt's house, to the airport, onto the plane, and back into the Incheon International Airport.

It was excrutiating to be so close to him, and yet never able to get that single thought off of my mind. Just looking in his general direction, just hearing him laugh, just somebody saying his name or even something similar to his name would make me turn bright pink and hide deeper in my chair.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. Everything was so mixed up. Every plan I'd made over the past several months had evaporated into thin air. Nothing made any sense. I couldn't interpret the scientific reasonings for the weather over Korea, explain why a plane was able to fly, or translate what anyone said into English. 

Every thought in my mind automatically led to the feeling of his lips, soft and warm against mine, tasting like bananas and cream.

My cheeks turned pink, and I hid behind Jung Ah when I saw Zhou Mi turn around and look at me, despite the crowd all around us in the airport. I was pretty sure Jung Ah knew that I was acting strange, but she hadn't said anything about it.

We took separate vehicles to back to our individual dorms, and as soon as I arrived I threw my keys onto the kitchen counter then went into my bedroom to collapse onto my bed.

I pressed my fingers against my eyelids, trying to force the images out of my mind. I couldn't think rationally about this if I didn't stop freaking out over a recurring image.

I didn't even know how I felt about it. I knew that everything about what had happened was against my own rules of right and wrong. I knew that I was born in August, 1996, and he was born in April, 1986. I knew that I was American, and he was Chinese. I knew that romance amongst idols rarely worked out, especially with differences in age. I knew that all of the romances I had created all of this time had been completely imaginary.

But why did I still want to ignore all of that? No logic in the world made any of this right. Then again, why did I always treat him the way I did? Why did I still cherish his picture, still enjoy his company, still desperately want to touch his face, still... still... Why did my heart still jump when he sat down next to me?

Of all the people in this world, of all of the males I had pulled into my life, why did I keep him close? Why was this feeling so different from the infatuation I'd had before?

Before, with Ryeowook, with Sungmin, with Eunhyuk and Donghae, the feelings had been an extreme heat, a flaming desire that had made words flow from my tongue before I even really thought about them.

But this... this was like an illness. It rose like a hard lump in my throat, making it impossible to even say anything. The fire that burned through me now was like a fever, that rose into my forehead and brought beads of sweat to the surface of my skin. I actually got up and went to my bathroom to get the thermometer, just to check if I really was sick, but no-- my temperature was normal.

I crossed back through the living room towards my bedroom, looking up at the walls as I passed. I stopped, looking up at the line of my drawings across the wall. "SuJu 13 + 2".

I walked to the end, at the very last drawing in line.  It didn't look very much like him, to me. His skin was far too dark, his face too round, his eyes too big, and his nose not long enough. yet I could still tell exactly who it was supposed to be. 

I quickly went back to my bedroom, running away from the eyes of the picture. 

I continued like this for almost a week. I went right back to filming, but I still couldn't focus. My acting was sketchy, and we would have to film five or six time before I could get through a scene without forgetting several of my lines. 

On the last day, the director reminded Hyuksoo and I that our kiss scene would be filmed the next day, and that we should probably spend some time becoming really familiar with each other. But when he dismissed us for the day, I left as quickly as possible.

I didn't depend on anyone for help. I didn't ask anyone for their opinions. to be quite honest, I was scared to. If this got out, it would be a horrible scandal. I didn't want to hurt him like that. I could only imagine what it had taken for him to do that, for him to even ask me that. If he heard the criticism that would come up against him...

No. I wouldn't let that happen to him. Zhou Mi endured enough criticism that he didn't deserve already. 

The thoughts went round and round and round. The Jung sisters visited, delivering my cat back to me, but I was completely lost in the clouds. Dozens of times, they would ask me a question several times before I would even notice. They left fairly soon, probably feeling uncomfortable.

I sat on the bed with KyuMin in my lap, still arguing with myself. I remembered the way he'd listened to Evanescence just because I'd said that I liked them. I remembered when he'd read Emily Dickenson poetry, just because I'd said that i admired her. He'd remembered every small thing I said, even when it had been tiny, passing information to me. 

He wasn't even my bias member. I didn't fangirl over him. I never had. I adored his smile and fiercely protected him, more than any other member. Suddenly I realized that any real thing I had ever done for Super Junior had been for Zhou Mi. Because... because...

Because I loved him.

It shouldn't have been that difficult to accept. It shouldn't have. But he'd always been with me, every step of the way. There were still so many doubts I had, so many questions I had for him, wondering if he was completely alright with whatever was going to happen. 

I'd gotten so used to platonic love that I hadn't even imagined that anyone would ever even remotely like me.

My phone buzzed, and I moved the grab it, trying not to disturb the sleeping cat on my lap. 

"Hello? Henry?"

"Are you coming to the welcome back party or not?"

"Oh my god, yeah! I'm sorry... I totally forgot about it..."

"Are you okay? You've been really... out of it lately."

"I'm... I'm fine. I'll be there soon, okay?"

I don't know why, but I just couldn't stop myself from staring at him. Every time he met my gaze, I would want to tell him everything: that I didn't care about the ten years, that I loved him and that I had always loved him, though it had taken me so long to realize it. But every time I was given the chance, the words would dry up and die in the back of my throat only moments after I had opened my mouth. Me, who always had something to say; some sassy demand, some snappy comeback-- but now that I had decided what I wanted and what I was willing to risk, I just couldn't tell him.

So I just stared, taking him in, every detail of him: the curve of his lips that had been so soft and sweet on mine, the smooth skin over his high, fine cheekbones that had felt warm to my touch, the dark brown of his eyes that had reflected the warmth of Hawaii's sunset when he had told me that he would wait for my answer...

An answer that, although I knew what it was, I couldn't seem to give.

I love you, I thought. I love you, and I don't want anything to hurt you, and nothing else matters, not even ten years...

But it would not come out. No words ever seemed right.

Frustrated, I turned to go, muttering something to Henry, who seemed concerned. At first I was worried that he might make m stay, but he just seemed to follow my gaze as it travelled once again, against my will, to Zhou Mi's face as he sat playing cards with Siwon and Heechul-- and just nodded, letting me go back out the door. 

Back in my own quiet dorm, KyuMin meowed at me, then went back to sleep. It was still in the warmth of day, I realized, and he was sleepy. It didn't look like my cat would be of much comfort.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat down at the desk with a sigh, holding my head in my hands.

I had to give him my answer. But how? I had the knowledge of five languages in the palms of my hands, and yet I seemed incapable of simply finding the right words.

I let one of my hands fall, and, in my absentmindedness, it struck my pencilholder, sending its contents all over. 

Cursing under my breath, although KyuMin was the only one there to hear, I started grabbing pencils and pens and carelessly tossing them into the pencilholder. i leaned down to grab a pencil that had rolled off the desk onto the floor, saw a glimpse of color, and remembered the drawing that Patrick had made me, that Mom had sent with one of her letters. I had taped it to the side of my desk.

I reached out and touched the colorful, cartoony drawing that somewhat depicted patrick and I holding hands, then let my forefinger trace the slow, careful, yet messy letters. "My sister is the best songwriter in the world."

I smiled a little, straightening back up. Armed with a pen, I almost automatically pulled out a sheet of paper and let all of my memories and emotions pour out. 

I may not be the best songwriter in the world, but I was, after all, a songwriter.

I sat in the practice room, where I had rushed to as soon as I had finished writing. Sheets of paper sprawled all around me, and dozens of attempts to compose the song recorded on the keyboard, and raw fingers from repeatedly playing chords on the ukulele, I finally was ready to sing the final run-through.

I'd started writing the song at around two in the afternoon. But now it was almost midnight. 

It had taken me much less time than it usually did to write this song, despite the fact that I had very carefully written it in Mandarin, and had had to call Victoria once or twice to ask about the specifics of a word, and she seemed really curious about why I wanted to know, but I was too focused on my work to give her any answers. I'd explain it to her eventually. Probably.

I hit "play" on the keyboard, readying my voice for the final run-through. 

"Even as I write this song, I'm thinking of you,
thinking of what I might say.
Everything I think of, it never seems enough,
though I know, somehow, there has to be a way...

It's hard to describe what I'm feeling...
None of it makes any sense.
I took for granted that you remembered every word I said...
God, I'm such a mess.

This question haunting me...
to find an answer that somehow helps you see.
I struggle to somehow say the words
that choke in my throat whenever I see you.

How do I tell you
what words cannot describe?
How do I say to you
the words I cannot find?

Because, despite it all, I'm still...
finding the right words.

And I don't say this out of pity--
I say it because it's true.
You stood by me when I lost my way,
so I wanted to finally thank you.

I want to be there to protect you,
to stand together against those who scorn us.
I don't care; it doesn't matter,
because I'll dive into Hell for you if I must.

This question haunting me,
to find an answer
that somehow helps you see.
I struggle to somehow say the words
that choke in my throat whenever I look at you...

How do I tell you
what words cannot describe?
How do I say to you
the words I cannot find?

Because, despite it all, I'm still...
finding the right words.

How do I tell you I love you?
I finally know it now.
I ache to touch your face, feel your arms 'round me,
if I can only figure out how...

How to answer this question haunting me--
to find an answer
that somehow helps you see.
I struggle to say the words
that choke in my throat whenever I look at you.

How do I tell you
what words cannot describe?
How can I say to you
the words I cannot find?!

Because, despite it all, I'm still..
finding the right words.

Oh, oh...
finding... the right... words..."

I silenced the humming ukulele strings in time with the keyboard's music, and tried to make myself stop crying. I set the ukulele back into its case. I couldn't do this when I performed it. Whenever that was. Great. So I had a song. That still didn't really help me with this problem. Trying to make him hear it would just be tacky, and not end well, and--

"You know... you only really needed one word." 

I jumped, startled. When I looked up to see Zhou Mi, leaning against the wall of the room, smiling at me, my heart suddenly started going at around light speed. 

I wiped the tears away. "And what word is that?"

He crossed to me, then pulled me into his arms, the way he had held me in Wisconsin, when I was scared. "Yes. All you had to say was yes."

I buried my head in his shoulder, clutching him so tightly I was afraid I would crush him. But I didn't let go. My throat closed again, and there was nothing else for me to say. I didn't know anything. I didn't know what would happen after that moment. But I knew I wanted to hold onto him. 

But then he broke away, looking down at me, brushing a lock of hair back around my shoulder, his eyes sparkling. "Why did you think you had to explain anything to me?"

I reached up, letting my fingertips skim the surface of his face, the curve of his cheekbones, the dark circles under his eyes, the tiny hairs at the edge of his face where his ear met his hair. My fingers curved around his neck, and I could feel his pulse beating through my hand.

I pulled him down to me, at the same time stretching up to the tallest height I could achieve. And I kissed him, a much longer, softer, deeper kiss than on my aunt's property in Hawaii. Then, it had tasted sweet, but now it was flavored by the salt in my tears.

"Don't ask me questions. If I start thinking, everything stops making sense."

Of course, eventually I had to start thinking about something, or I'd be running on pure instinct, and believe me, that would not be a good thing. 

But by then, I was feeling extremely embarassed about everything I did. Sitting down. Standing up. Picking up my music. Accidentally spilling the contents of my sheet music folder all over the floor.

Eventually I just sat down on the piano bench and started braiding my hair, to keep my hands busy. I was so extremely jittery that my words started running together, and I had to take a deep breath and start over several times.

"I just never expected... anything. That's the thing with strong-willed girls like me. Men are afraid to like me, so I guess I got... afraid of liking anyone. So I don't really understand everything."

He sat down on the piano bench next to me. "I don't know why. You were just always full of surprises. Most people get intimidated by working with all of the guys at once, but you would just hit them over the head with a spoon and chase them back to their rooms. You weren't gentle at all, or sweet, or scared of anything. I didn't know what to think."

"I'm not scared of nothing..."

"I didn't know that. I remembered the day I asked you to help me write a song. What was it, two and a half years ago?"

"Roughly."

"You were so flustered when you came in. And then you saw me and burst out laughing. I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or not. And then you ranted about the difference between a SuJu fan and an ELF. You were so tough and strong and then... you softened when you talked about your little brother." He laughed and shook his head. "You were so many different things, all in one small body."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me of my height."

"I didn't mean that--"

I grinned. "I'm just kidding, Mimi." Suddenly my smiled disappeared into an open-mouthed terror. "I can still call you that, right?!"

He smiled slightly. "At this point I don't think it matters anymore."

His words faded into silence, and I felt my fingers go still as they finished the last loop of the braid. I let it swing back over my shoulder, then let my hands rest in my lap. "I just don't know why in the world... me of all people. I'm not beautiful, like Song Qian, or fashion-conscious... I don't come from a good family, and I have a fairly volatile personality."

His expression softened. "I'd never met anyone so strong. And brave. You barely even knew me, but you risked your career to protect me. How could I not start to like you? And you put up with the members better than anyone I'd ever met. Like you were the older one, not them. Let's just face it, Niuwang. You are the most incredible human being I have ever met, and although I knew you're barely even an adult, and tried to stay away from you, I had no idea how I ever lived for ten years before you were born."

The words came from him in a rapid flurry, like the white flecks in a snowstorm back home in Wisconsin. Unlike the snowstorm, though, it didn't make me want to run and hide from the impending coldness by huddling under a blanket with a cup of cocoa. Well, maybe it did. But not by myself.

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as I could. "Stop that," I demanded, my voice muffled from the way my chin was tucked over his shoulder.

"Stop what?"

"Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. I'll never leave this damn room."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I let go of him, then laced my fingers through his. "Unfortunately, I have to go home at some point. I have a drama to go film tomorrow morning. Quite a romantic, dramatic scene..." I grinned, teasing him.

"Did you have to remind me of that?"

"Oh, is Mimi jealous?!"

"You're doing this on purpose."

"Of course I am! You know how much I love seeing men in misery! It fills me with satisfaction."

"It's great to see that you're no kinder to me than you were before."

"Of course not! If I were to change, you wouldn't like me as much, would you?" I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, my own heart aching for him. "I'll see you soon, Mimi. And believe me, I'm still going to be your Niuwang. I quite like myself, now. I see no reason to change that now."

"Don't enjoy yourself too much," he called as I stood up and let my fingers slip away from his.

"If you love your job, you'll never work a day in your life."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love your job."

I smiled at him, leaning my head against the doorway, so I wouldn't appear to be as dizzy as I really was. "I love the job itself. Quite a bit. And the people I work with." I meant it both ways. I really enjoyed working with Hyuk Soo and Hyun Woo. Not quite as much as I enjoyed working with Henry and Zhou Mi, though. "I'm not a giant fan of who I work for, though."

I smiled one last time, then went through the door, walking down the hallways of the company like someone who'd recently drank incredible amounts of alcohol. Though, of course, what I'd had was much better than alcohol.

I sat down on the bench next to the hospital bed, trying to ignore the sound of gunfire around the hospital. The South Korean and American forces were continuing to prevent their forces from being forced back south. And the hospital was no longer a sanctuary. It wasn't safe anymore. For me, or for any of the soldiers under my care.

I leaned forward, laying my hands on the soldier's neck. "Do Shik, I have to leave. They're evacuating the hospital." 

He reached up and put his hand over mine, squeezing it harshly. "Then why are you still here, Rosaline?" He said my name like he was mocking it, despite the undertone of his voice that indicated the excrutiating pain he was in.

"You're my patient. I have to take care of you."

"Just go, Rosaline. The army that's approaching is my own, anyway."

"You're still sick."

"I'll be fine."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Lim Do Shik. I'll stab you in the leg with a pencil again."

His hand tighetned on my wrist, and he looked up at me plaintively. "If you're here when they arrive, they will kill you. Please, Connor-shi. Leave me behind, and go. Jin Hwan will take care of you."

An explosion rocked the ground under my chair, and I leaned forward and kissed him, gently and softly, lacing my fingers tighter into his. I straightened up, and then suddenly Jin Hwan was there, grabbing my arm.

"Rosaline, we have to go! Hurry!"

I let him pull me away, my fingers slowly releasing themselves from Do Shik's grip. I was saying goodbye.

"CUT!" the director yelled, then stood up and clapped. "Very good job, Queen Be! You're back!"

"I was back a week ago..." I countered.

"Maybe so, but you weren't really yourself, were you? This entire project, I'd never known you to have such little focus. It's good to see you back to the fantastic actress we know and love."

"Well, thank you, Director. You're making me blush."

"What I want to know is when she planned to throw all of the careful camera placement plans out the window, and just kiss him," Hyun Woo commented, letting go of my hand and nudging Hyuk Soo on the shoulder.

"Drama kisses are awkward. It never feels realistic. Personally, if I'm in love with a man, I don't really want to just barely touch his lips. I want to kiss him. I was trying to show that through Rosaline."

Hyuk Soo's eyebrow went up. "And you know this how?"

I bit my lip, feeling heat rise into my cheeks. Suddenly I heard Min Hee's voice in my head. Well, I guess we all have our little secrets, don't we?

"Speculation. When you're someone who's been single as long as I have, you start to imagine these things," I lied, but only slightly. I actually had been imagining those kinds of things for quite some time.

"Just the epilogue episode after this!" yelled the director, "See you all next week!"

I flashed a smile at my two co-stars, then spun on my heel to head out the set's doors and meet my manager.