He imagined them dancing out in the garden when the wind was still cold and the sun had barely risen.

Shim Changmin spent every early morning standing by the window, looking through the blinds at the lush, green landscape beyond and just imagining.

He imagined how they must’ve looked dancing; him being all awkward and being the not-so-proud owner of two left feet as the saying went.

But she’d always been so patient and persistent, leading every step, twirl and turn with gracefulness that only she had. She made it seem like he, too, can dance so effortlessly. She’s a natural dancer, having been blessed with elegance and poise needed for it. He loved watching her dance and loved it even more, though he was never one to admit it, when he danced with her because hello, he got to hold her close. Enough said.

He could still remember the first time that they danced to an unheard tune. Having already finished her breakfast, she declared that she was bored – how she could be bored so early in the damn morning, he’d never understand – and promptly dragged him outside to find something to do with a piece of toast still hanging between his parted lips.

“Dance with me.” She held out her hand once they stood in the middle of the garden, howling in laughter when he nearly gagged on that piece of bread he was trying to swallow. “Come on, oppa. We don’t have all day.”

“I can’t dance, remember?”

She waved off his excuse. “I’ll teach you.”

“You taught me many times before. I still can’t dance.”

“Then, I’ll teach you again and again and again.”

“Why would you do that?”

“If it meant that I get to dance with you over and over again, who am I to complain?”

Now that he thought about it, what a rather amusing yet beautiful picture they made whenever they danced together.

He could still clearly see it in his mind how utterly happy and content she looked whenever they danced; a bright smile on her beautiful, breath-taking face. Her eyes would always shimmer to match the brightness of her smile; the sunlight shining down her chocolate brown tresses that moved whichever way she did. He probably looked like a complete retard every time but then again, he didn’t really care. He’d look like a fool many times over if it meant making her happy and keeping her that way.

But now as he looked out the window, it was just the garden he saw.

There was no blissfully oblivious pair who danced to their hearts content; their hands intertwined, his other hand on the curve of her waist and hers on his sturdy shoulder. There was no beaming woman who twirled and giggled and waltzed to her heart's content. There was no graceless idiot who danced along with her with such a lovesick expression on his face as he gazed fondly at the woman he loved more than he ever thought he would.

There was nothing, just the garden and the sunlight that shone from up in the sky.

“Oppa?”

Changmin turned away from the window and found the lone occupant of the bed awake, groggily rubbing her eyes as she tried to stifle her yawn. “You’re awake.”

“What are you thinking of?”

“Just remembering a few things.” He hurried to her side when she made a move to sit up, helping her ease herself into the position. “Do you want anything?”

“Breakfast.” Choi Sooyoung reached a hand out to grasp his wrist when he made a move to leave. “I want to eat downstairs, please.”

The request didn’t surprise him. He knew the day would come when she’d ask for it, when breakfasts and lunches and dinners in bed wouldn’t be enough any longer. Smiling softly at her, he pulled off the covers that kept the bottom half of her long frame hidden, easily hooking an arm under her knees and another behind her, lifting her off the mattress in one go.

In silence, the