Somehow, there’s no pain. 

You focus immediately without drowsiness and swing your legs off of the bed,  running out the room towards the one place in your mind, hoping, that you’ll still make it towards what you’re trying to get.

“Amara!?”

You stop in your tracks and almost fall onto the floor as you meet Baekhyun’s eyes.  The memories threaten to flow right there and then, but you’re going to save it for later.

“Baekhyun,” You approach him and take out the pen from behind his ear, scribbling on his palm.  “Go to this address.  A post office is there, find a messenger that would react to the name Silvia.  Ask him for a package, the passcode is Silver.  Bring it back here and let nobody know of it,” Before you leave, you add.  “Tell him that Amara sent you.  Tell him my thanks and the fact that I owe him more than he could ever imagine,”

You continue your run then, leaving Baekhyun to himself to register the message you’ve given him.  He’s clever; he won’t have any trouble retrieving that package.

“Kris!!” You push the library doors and they open with a loud bang.  “Kris, give me back my mother’s ring!”

You search your surroundings and leap over the stairs, swinging yourself above the railing and coming upon two crouching figures, who straightened up immediately, facing you in the narrow aisle. 

“Why?” He had an amused tone in his voice.  “You know what this is now, Silly?”

You throw a kick at him and successfully catch him in the stomach with your fist when he avoided your leg.  “Don’t call me that,” You snatch at the ring he’s hanging by his throat the way he did to you.  You satisfiedly smirk when he lets out a cry of pain.  “See how it stings now?”

“You wretched woman,” He a breath through his teeth.  “You’re supposed to be down because of that drug,”

“Hell, you think you’re the only one with immunity?” You grab at the Queen’s arm and fling her backwards, making her faint as her head hits the wall behind Kris.  She was not going to escape this one.  “I went through all that training, remember?” You pull out the knife from his belt and kick him down, letting it hover above his throat.  “Remember?”

You glance at the ring and notce that the edges were scraped.  “Ah, you used this already,” You muse, putting it on your finger after you yank the chain off.  “I suppose you got nothing,”

You laugh at the expression on the man’s face and move close to his face, letting your noses touch.  “Let me guess, a cute doll and a child’s clothes?”

“You and Silvia, you two are the same foxes,”

“Yeah,” You move the knife to his cheek and draw a thin line with the edge.  “We are,” A box shows from a dark corner by the shelf, and you tug at it with your arm, kicking it back down with your leg.  Glancing at the stirring Queen, you tilt Kris’ head up with the knife you’re holding.  “Do you prefer the castle or your rat’s hole, hm?”

You stand up to let Kris move and watch as he takes the Queen with him, using his entry (the window) as his exit.  You keep your eyes on him as he climbs down the stairs, down until he reaches the ground, running out the exit, repeatedly glancing back at you.  You notice he’s already planning something else to get what he wants, and you think to yourself; ‘I’ll be looking forward to the next time we meet,’

You fling your knife and keep a stoic face when you see him avoid it by a hair’s breadth. 

He does have a lot up his sleeve.

As he disappears from the grounds and from your eyes, you clutch at your chest, wheezing at the sudden rush of movements you had.  The drug really does bad things to your body.  Hugging your knees and setting your head in between, you wait until your heart rate calms down and your breathing returns to normal.

And then you crawl towards the box, looking through its contents.

There it was, a doll, shaped like Silvia, with white yarn to show her silver hair and in the plain dress your mother always wears at home.  You remember how she had made it for you, giving it to you as one of your birthday presents.  She gave you one each year, which she tidily set in this box, saving it for you to see, now, probably.  The clothes she had made herself, sewn herself, embroidered herself.  Hairpins that matched your hair or the ones that don’t, but she insisted did.

You laugh to yourself at the memories and grit your teeth, trying to choke back a sob.  “Mother,” You whisper, breathing in the faint smell from the old box.  You don’t care if she weren’t your real mother, she was the closest person you have ever been with in your life.  Silvia was.  The one who cared for you when no one did, the one who nurtured you with all the love she had, sparing none for herself.  You had loved her so much.  As she did towards you.

“Amara! I got the pa—“

You notice Baekhyun’s voice and fall into his arms when you feel them around your shoulders.  “Baek,” You let down all your guard and slump onto his chest heavily, making him hit the wall with a quiet thump.  “Baek,”

“I’m right here,” He hugs you to his chest, kissing the top of your head.  “It’s okay, it’s going to be alright,”

You cry until you can’t anymore and breathe calmly when all the sobs finally subside.  You rest comfortably on Baekhyun, your body framed by his, so close and so warm.

“Hey,” You sniff, looking up at his jaw.  “Do you remember how we first met?”

The memory rolls in, switching from the dark night to a sunny day, one colored with the happy chirp of birds in the trees and the blue sky facing the earth.  You were out on your part-time job, with the uniform hat on top of your head.  You had your wig on, as usual, a comfy shirt and jeans to complete it.  The apron was tied around your waist and a smile was decorating your face.

“Yes, thank you very much for your purchase, a 2 minute wait will suffice,” You bow at the customer and turn at your heels to proceed with her order.  Your hands slip into the equipments, stirring, pouring, whipping, basically everything as your mind wanders to the grocery list in your back pocket.  You’re going to have to get some eggs and milk.  Chanyeol has been whining for some pancakes and it’s getting really annoying.

“Here you go,” You serve the coffee and smile back at the customer as she slips out the door.

“Hey, Yuna-yah,” A friend of yours calls out from the back.  “Your shift’s ending, it’s my turn,” You laugh as she smacks you playfully on the arm.  “Don’t go taking all the credit,”

You untie your apron and hang it inside your locker, exchanging it for your things.  You never use your real name outside the house, right? You change the green hat for your black one, and slip outside the front door, yelling, “I’m going!” And grinning as your friend tosses you your favorite candy.

You pop it inside your mouth and slip your head underneath the strap of your bag, letting it fall across your shoulder.  This job shift ends midday.  Your next one is in a grocery store.

“Hello, ma’am,” You dip your head at the manager, who hugs you and pats your back.  She hands you your apron and takes off your hat, stashing it by her table.

“Gotta show that pretty face if you wanna work here,” She winks at you and you laugh, excusing yourself to do the task she just gave you.

You jot down the prices of the vegetables and fruits, organizing them on their shelves.  You slip the notepad into the pocket on your apron and shake your head as a whole bunch of spinaches are misplaced.  People do that a lot.  They take, then think twice, and when they decide they don’t want it, they just put it down.  “Think about it once and for all then decide.  You can think, then think twice, thrice, so on, such fickle-minded beings, we are,” You mutter to yourself, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you place the greens onto their proper shelves.

You finish up in this section of the store and take the escalator to the second floor.  Everything edible aside from dairy products, fruits and veggies, meat and bread.  Your eyes fall upon the chocolate sticks and you tap your lips, contemplating whether to get them or not.  The watch on your wrist suddenly beeps and you smack your forehead for not keeping track of time.  Your shift is ending in an hour and you’re not done with the second half of your job.

Whipping through the aisles, you check your notepad, matching the prices with the ones attached on the shelves. 

A child suddenly runs towards you and you notice the shaking of the boxes over his head .  Knowing that warning the kid won’t make it and won’t actually do anything, you glance around and run towards the little boy, sliding and catching him on the stomach right before the boxes topple onto the floor with a loud clatter.  You stop and turn over onto a kneeling position and hold the boy by his shoulders.  “Are you okay?”

His mouth has an ‘o’ shape and he nods at you.  “Noona is really fast,”

You look at the crowd starting to form in the aisle and you pick up the boy, carrying him and whispering at his ear.  “Yeah, I am.  Let’s keep it a secret, between the two of us, okay?”

He grins and nods eagerly, noticing his mother coming close. 

“Here you are, ma’am,” You unlatch his grip on you, handing him over to his mother.

“Noona,” He reaches out again and before you could reply, he pecks you on the cheek.

The mother thanks you and giggles, the two waving at you as they walk away.

You space out for the next row of minutes and only the beep of your watch snaps you out of it.  You rush downstairs and trade your apron for your hat with the manager, who asks you with a raise of her eyebrow.  “What’s with the blush, Yuna?”

“L-little boy,” You stutter.  “Cheek, you know, k-kissed,” You throw your hands up in the air and hug the manager quickly before rushing out the store, clearing your head as she laughs uproariously.

You quickly slip between the crowd, keeping your head down at all times, completely forgetting about Chanyeol’s egg and milk and damn it, those chocolate sticks.

The day has ran out of jobs and you drop dead (not literally) on the bus, your head painfully hitting the window.

“Ouch,” You rub at the spot and wonder how such a little boy could fluster you so much.

A box of chocolate sticks suddenly comes into view and you glance up, looking at the person offering it to you.

He just lifts his eyebrows and smiles, and you can’t help but take it from him, gently opening it and popping one in your mouth.  The guy sits beside you and takes the stick you offer to him.

“Do you take things from strangers all the time?” He asks.

“Well,” You chew on your stick.  “Well, not really.  But you seem like a particularly nice stranger and I’m not suspicious of you, so, might as well take your offer,” You frown as you take another stick.  “How did you know I wanted this?”

“Saw you in the grocery store,”

Your eyes widen slightly  but you keep on chewing your stick, looking into his eyes when you ask him.  “And then?”

“And then nothing, just thought that if we meet again, I could give you this,”

You smile at him then.  “That’s nice.  You’re a very nice person,”

“You’re a very strange person,” He lets you down the bus first and jumps after you.  “Do you need me to walk you home?”

“Why?”

“It’s getting late,” He shrugs.  “And you’re a girl,”

“Oh, right,” You shake your head.  “It’s fine, I’m not that strange to actually, you know, let some stranger know where I live,”

The guy laughs then and offers his hand.  “I’m Woojin,” He smiles.

You eye him and laugh along, shaking his.  “Yuna,”

When he lets go, you feel him pass a slip of paper into your hand.  “I hope the next time we meet, we’ll have our real names with each other,”

He turns and waves, jogging away.

You look at the paper and see that it’s your grocery list.  A little note was scribbled at the edge, and it said, “Check these off the list,”

You frown and turn back when someone calls your name.

The manager was in her car, calling you over.

“A young man told me you left your own groceries, my dear,” She shakes her head, handing you a plastic bag that had milks and eggs in it.  “You shouldn’t be so forgetful.  You’re still young,” She laughs and drives away, leaving you staring at the bag in awe.

“This was quite the day,” You mutter to yourself, making your way home.

And that night, you do meet ‘Woojin’, but he was there as Q.  And you were there as Silver. 

“And now, you’re Baek,” You poke at his stomach, your head returning to the present day.

“And you’re Amara,” He chuckles.

“You really surprise people, Baek,” You shake your head, sitting upright to look at his face.

“That’s my charm,” He taps your nose with his hand and you narrow your eyes at him.

“But that means you lied to me!” You gasp, scooting away.  “You saw that kid peck me and you—!”

Shrieking, you take the box with you and run away from Baekhyun, who was chasing you with a laugh.  You run as fast as you can towards your room but fail to close the door to stop Baekhyun from entering.

“Stay away from me!” You set the box down and run around the sofa, the tables, but as usual, Baekhyun catches you and you fall onto the bed, laughing as he tickles your feet.  “Stop it!” You say in between breaths and gasps.

“Okay, okay,” He puts his hand up and you move back further on the bed, hiding beneath the covers.

He quickly pulls it away from you and by then, your laughter have died down, leaving the two of you with smiles and heavy breathing. 

“You were pretty fast back then, noona,” He playfully smirks at you, looking down onto you.

“Shut up, liar,” You softly hit his chest and wince when he pecks your cheek.  “Ya, don’t,” You warn, looking away as the color fills your face.

He chuckles gently and cups your cheek with his hand, running his thumb under your eye.  “Then is this okay?”

He leans in and presses his lips on yours, just like that, and you feel his soft ones on yours and yours on his.  When he backs away, you somehow miss it immediately.

“No,” You answer his question, looking away again when you realize what he did to you.

Again, he chuckles, a low one that made your insides flutter.  He kisses your forehead and slips out the door after patting the package he retrieved on your table.  “I’m out to change.  You go change too, and I’ll be back here soon,”

You mutter a quiet “Hm,” and watch his back, disappearing behind the door.  Your fingers touch your lips and a smile tugs at it.

Changing is done with barely a tinge of your consciousness and you return to the bed, still smiling, somehow, at the memory of his touch, the feel of his lips on yours.

“It’s okay, I guess,” You mutter to yourself, falling asleep.

And you bet this night’s sleep will be something you don’t want to wake up from.