"They're great," Naomi said some time later. The dorm was dark and silent with only the two of them still awake. She had showered and redressed in her jeans and T-shirt, and her damp hair dangled in damp curly tendrils.

"You made one hell of an impression." Seunghyun straightened from the floor of the closet and walked across the room to where she stood at the large window. He had changed into pajamas and a robe he had snagged from the filming set of 'Baby Goodnight'. He held a white T-shirt with ARMY printed across it with thick, black letters. "This is all I can find for you to wear," he said apologetically. "Youngbae gave me a pair of pajama pants for you if it's too short for you."

Naomi's fingers found the neckline and touched the tag inside, then froze without withdrawing. "This is… way too big for you, Seunghyun…" As realization dawned on her, his eyes became wary and self-conscious. She reached over quickly and touched his cheek to keep him from pulling away from her. "Seunghyun… show me?"

He hesitated a moment before he walked to the closet and retrieved an unobtrusive black book from the shelf above the hangers. He sat on the bed and opened it when he felt her thigh pressing lightly against his. "This was before I signed at YG," he said in a low rumble. "I keep the pictures and the shirt to remind me how far I've come." He handed her the book. "I'm surprised you haven't seen them before."

Naomi stared down at the pictures of an overweight Choi Seunghyun[1] in a school uniform and basketball jersey, one with a microphone in hand. She gazed at the pages for a few minutes before turning her eyes up again. He looked uncomfortable and like he wanted to hide away from the judgement he expected from her. "I like this boy."

His expression slackened so suddenly, it was as if she had slapped him. "You… you what?" he asked, flabbergasted.

She smiled and tapped the photo of a T.O.P who hadn't existed for nearly a decade. "This boy," she said. "His name is Choi Seunghyun, and he is a talented rapper. I think he's cute, but I'm thankful he's gone. Making his disappear gave you the confidence to become T.O.P."

"How did you-"

"One of my students is a huge BigBang fan," she answered dismissively. Her finger drummed on the plastic-covered photo again. "I like him because he became you, and because I like you. What kind of person would I be if I liked you now but not you then? That would be swallow and petty."

"Why are you so perfect?" he asked upon gathering her close. The album lay forgotten with pages squashed open like thick crumpled wings.

"I'm not," she answered simply. She looked up at him. "Americans are loud, rude, and selfish, but we're much more diverse than Korea. We come in more shapes, colors, and sizes than you're ever seen, and you were as good-looking at your heavy weight as you are now. Just in different ways."

He kissed her forehead. "Naomi… thank you."

"There's one more thing…" She pulled back a little. "Take off your robe and shirt."

"I-"

"I want to prove something to you."

Under her dark gaze, he did so. He removed his robe, pulling the tie and standing to remove it completely. He hesitated briefly before taking off his short-sleeved pajama top. As it tumbled off the fingers of his left hand, she looked at his torso as if reading a map. Then, without speaking, she removed her own and sat in front of him in only a plain white bra, jeans, and mismatched socks of blue and green.

Her own torso was crisscrossed with old scars and scratches, some faint and some in violent contrast to the pale skin. Four of them - parallel -were still a deeply-discolored grey-pink and traced a long path from just under the collarbone on her left side under the cup and band of her bra to the waist of her jeans. "Your body," she said quietly, "for all its lack of definition, is just as perfect as mine. It suits you, Seunghyun. It's not chiseled or hard as stone like Daesung or Youngbae's, but it is yours, and that is what makes it perfect."

He leaned over and kissed her. "What happened to yours?" he asked. Fingers light and tentative as a rabbit's twitching nose traced the deepest marks until they were stopped by thick denim. She didn't seem afraid of how close they were sitting or how intimate the conversation had gotten.

"Patricia's dog," she replied quietly. "The friend I was going to teach with. He jumped on me one day, and his claws needed a trim. The scratches got a little infected and never healed properly. They looked better than what they did before."

Seunghyun picked up his old T-shirt and put it on over her head. She looked like a kid in hand-me-downs; he smiled at the sight. "Youngbae's pants are on the dresser if you want them."

Wiggling out of her jeans, she shook her head and grabbed his hands before he could go for his shirt and robe. "Seunghyun," she said slowly, "I am very… very close to falling in love with you. I don't… I don't put out on the first date, or whatever date this is for us, but I… want to be next to you, n-next to your skin, when I sleep. Is that… okay?"

"More than okay."

His robe remained on the floor.

In the pale blue light that come through the uncovered window, he sank onto his knees and rested his chin on her bare knees. "Are you a fan of BigBang?" he asked as if the answered would break his heart. His arms wrapped around her waist again, finger splaying on her back.

"He said he'd never date a fan," whispered the ghost of Jae-Hwa in her head.

"No," she whispered. "No, I'm not. I like music for its own sake. Music is a language that you can't learn in school, and I never understood obsessing over idols or celebrities." She carded her fingers through his soft blonde hair and sighed softly. "Are you asking because you promised never to date a fan?" Her fingers slipped under his chin, but she needn't have bothered.

He looked up with eyes so full of hope that they seemed to shine. "You said you were falling in love with me," he said slowly. "I'm not. I already fell hard, but I'll wait for you to feel the same. I don't care at this point if you are a fan. I just want you." He got to his feet and walked silently across to the window. The curtain hissed shut along its track, and he returned to the bed easily in the darkness.

She touched his bare chest and smiled softly. "You should get some rest," she said. "You have a schedule tomorrow, and you need to drop me off at home before you go."

They toppled over onto the mattress without seeming to move. She cuddled close in the protective circle of his arms before something occurred to her. "What was G-Dragon so upset about?"

He made a sound suspiciously like a snort. "He was just in a bad mood," he said, not knowing how wrong he was.