She was the sun. Not like the sun; she was the sun. Even with dark hair and pale skin, she exuded light, glowed radiance.

And when she smiled, her lips cracking open almost timidly, it was as though the the summer had come early and the winter was far behind.

 

                 Kai was the moon. He shone in a subtle way, like reflected light; enough to see but not to follow. His eyes, which twinkled from her glow, were a passage way to the part of the moon that could not be seen. Cold yet animinated, they were the window to the unseen part of his being. The inner workings of Kim Jongin, the dark side of the moon.

 

                 She tried her hand at pursuing that which could never be hers, for the moons place is not with the sun but among the stars, comforted by the blanket of mystery of by the night.