"When I told Hyukjae I was going out to see you, he stood up from the couch and clapped his hands while wiping fake tears from his eyes," I stated and looked at her as we walked.

The right corner of twisted up to indicate the smallest smile I have seen yet. "He did not."

"He did," I said, scratching the back of my head. "He did."

And it was silent again, just as it had been for the past fifteen minutes that we have been walking. I toyed with the hems of my shirt and chewed on my lower lip while staring at the ground. "Look," I started. "I'm sorry for unexpectedly appearing in front of your house early in the morning. If you were disturbed or..."

"How did you even know where I live?" Jihyuk asked.

"I..." I took a deep breath. "I followed you home after that day last week in the bookstore when you met my friends. I'm sorry."

She took my hand in hers and spun herself around, now back to the Jihyuk I knew. "You have to say it," she said. "Or else I'll tell the police that you stalked me. I'm good at acting, you know."

My eyebrows knitted together, I wonder what she was talking about. "Say what?" I asked for clarification.

"Admit your own fault," Jihyuk said, the sullen look in her eyes just moments ago now replaced with the usual enthusiastic gleam.

I sighed. "Okay, I stalked you and it wasn't right. So I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Ani. Admit that you're a bastard."

Stopping in the middle of my tracks, I blinked multiple times to see if she was serious. By the look on her face — her stern expression, set on a grim line, and her eyes intently waiting for my next move — she was indeed serious. The deadly kind of serious. The kind of serious that would result to my degradation and loss of self-respect and dignity.

"You just don't get it," she added quickly. "Your unexpected appearance was somehow, I don't know, disrespectful? I mean, you could have told me you wanted to know where I live and I would have told you...unless you're some thief or whatever." Jihyuk turned to me, her eyebrow arched. "Are you?" And I shook my head no.

With my head hung low and my lower lip jutting out in defeat, "I'm sorry. I'm a bastard," I exhaled, earning me cheers of victory from her. And she wound her arm around my shoulders despite having to struggle with the height difference.

"Now take me to where you live," she said.

"What?!" I nearly shouted back.

In the most innocent expression I have seen yet of her, she said, "Take me to where you live." And she pushed me by the shoulders to stand in front of her. "Guide me."

"Why are you like this?" I asked, my feet already treading the way back to the apartment a few blocks away. "Our place isn't necessarily messy, but it isn't neat either. We don't have much food, and Hyuk might be lazing around or..."

"Aish, just take me there. I don't care about anything," she said, putting me in place.

With a sigh, I paced faster, wondering if bringing a girl to where I live was a smart thing to do. But then again, following a girl secretly to her house was one of the dumbest things I have done regardless.

When we arrived, the apartment was any girl's worst nightmare — used clothes were piled up on the chairs, books and papers and notebooks everywhere, socks with missing pairs in corners, and the most horrifying of them all: Hyukjae in his boxers. Only. In. His Boxers.

"I'm so sorry," I started and was about to begin explaining, but Jihyuk just grinned widely and that was the start of her exploration.

"What do you use that for?" she asked, pointing to a corner behind the door.

I scratched my head. "We don't have a shoe rack and so we keep our slippers and shoes there."

Smiling contentedly, she nodded and took a few steps forward. And that was the start of an intellectually and emotionally challenging question and answer portion with Jung Jihyuk. It was like babysitting a three-year-old. And I tried my best to pacify her curiosity from simple matters like the difference between salsa picante chicken and smoked ham ramen noodles to the reason why my room was painted blue while Hyukjae's was painted green.

"I like the color blue and Hyukjae likes the color green," I explained, almost going insane.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because when I moved in her, the walls were already painted blue and I didn't have time to repaint. And as for Hyukjae, I don't know why he likes that color."

"Why?"

I sighed. "Because our daily conversations don't consist of favorite colors."

"Why?"

"Because we have better things to talk about, like school and the weather and other things."

"Why?" She was laughing, obviously teasing me.

I gave up. "Why are you asking all of this? Do you like Hyukjae?" I pressed, irritated.

Jihyuk laughed all the more and took my hand to spin herself around. Then she pulled me into my bedroom where another round of restless questions ensued. I followed her to my study table as she sifted through my things. "Ya, don't mess with my stuff," I reminded sternly. And Jung Jihyuk was indeed Jung Jihyuk as she looked me in the eye and yanked open the drawers and disorganized everything.

"Oh really?" she said, still staring directly at me. "What are you going to do about it?"

And I tugged at her wrists, pulling her away from the table before I could have a mental breakdown. She was laughing. "See what you did?" I said. "You shuffled and crumpled my research papers. Did you know I arrange everything properly according to the dates? Aish. You just had to barge in and like a tornado, destroy all my..." I trailed off, now realizing that her laughter has ceased.

When I turned to her, she wasn't paying attention to me. Jihyuk was standing in front of my bedside table and examining a family picture I had kept at the bottom of the drawer. I snatched the photo from her hands. "There's such thing as privacy," I said and turned my back on her to keep the picture away, somewhere even I wouldn't get to see it.

"I'm sorry," she muttered softly. And she was only apologetic for half a minute. Afterwards, she was back to her little field trip. The next thing I heard from her was a gasp, and Jihyuk was already dragging me to the piano. Pushing me down by the shoulders, I knew where this was leading, more so after she sat beside me and leaned against a wall as she watched me. "Play for me."

"Ani, you messed with my stuff," I said, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly.

And she frowned. The beautiful girl who calls me a bastard and messes with my things frowned. "Please?" she tried again, to which I shook my head no.

She sighed sadly. "Pretty please?" she begged.

I rolled my eyes. "Promise me you won't mess with my stuff again," I said.

Raising her hand up, she repeated after me. "I promise not to mess with your stuff again."

And fulfilling my part of the mutual deal, I played. She kept quiet all throughout as my fingers traveled octaves, gliding along the keys fluidly and playing from memory. In a minute or less, the piece was finished. When I turned to her, she was looking at me, and I don't know how long she had been staring. "Did you even listen?" I asked.

But she never took her eyes off me. And so I stared back, unfazed. After uninhibitedly staring, she looked away first. And in the faintest voice, Jihyuk spoke my death sentence. "I should go." And she stood up.

"Will I see you again?" I said. But she only looked down at her hand, which I didn't realize I was holding onto. I let go.

She smiled. "I am not going to die. Sunmi would probably be looking for me and I didn't tell her I was going out with you."

My forehead creased in confusion. "We're going out?" I didn't know dating only took a few weeks. I haven't even kissed her, because wanting to kiss her was a lot different than actually kissing her.

She smacked her own forehead. "I meant, I haven't told her that I would leave the house and go out with you—I mean—" Jihyuk stuttered, and a sly grin spread across my face. "You know what I mean. Bottom line is: she's looking for me. And so I have to go." And without another word, she left my side and walked out the door.

I followed her doggedly, almost tripping on my own feet in my haste. She stopped behind the couch where Hyukjae was sprawled lazily.

"I'll ask you about your room soon," Jihyuk said.

And I ran past the living room to walk her even just until the front door. Just as she twisted the knob, "I need your number," I said, immediately fishing my pockets for my phone.

"What do you need it for?" she pressed.

Even after realizing what I had blurted out, I didn't dare take my words back. "I'll call you," I answered, handing her my phone. She typed her number in and I hoped she would put her real number instead of typing random ones. I wasn't a bad person. After she was done, I led her out of the door and watched her walk towards the elevator until the doors closed.

"You like her," Hyukjae greeted as soon as I returned.

"What?" I almost shouted in protest. I scurried to my room to hide my face. "I don't!"

He chuckled and followed after me, leaning against the door frame. "Here's a tip: she likes it when you're confident. It's cute when you're shy at first. But if you keep being embarrassed and blushy all the time, she'll get bored and irritated."

"I am not trying to be cute!" I protested.

Hyukjae left and laughed. "She's right. You are a bastard."