“You are awake.”

‘Yunho?’ My ears twitched at the sound and I sat up to face my professor who was sitting on the bed next to me. “W-What happened?”

“You passed out and have been sleeping for almost two days straight.”

“TWO DAYS?!?!” I groaned and buried my face into the hot pillow, drenching it with cold sweat. “Really?”

“Actually, thirty hours, but close enough.”

‘Two whole days without practicing!’ I thought fearfully. ‘The competition starts in less than six days!’ I rolled onto my back and sighed. Seeing as Yunho was watching me, I pulled the covers a bit higher so that it covered my shoulders.

“You disobeyed me.” Yunho’s voice was harsh and unfeeling, slashing into me like a deep and painful paper cut.

“Huh?”

“I told you to be a good boy and rest. You didn’t.”

I averted my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“And so you had to force yourself to stand up and as a result faint from lack of blood in your head,” Yunho chided sardonically. “What were you thinking, Jaejoongie!?”

“I-I wasn’t thinking,” I stuttered, panic evident in my voice.

I expected another scolding from my professor but instead he broke into a forgiving smile. “At least you know what you did wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yunho pecked me on the forehead. “You are forgiven.”

My face turned cherry red and I pulled the covers around me tighter.

Yunho’s eyes softened and he reached into my luggage. “Here’s a shirt.”

I blushed as I slipped on the oversized t-shirt with an elephant logo on it. He finally noticed that I was feeling uncomfortable talking to him with only a pair of boxers on.

“Well, I hope that you’ll be pleased to know that I will be staying with you for a while—until you get better, to be more specific.”

I sat up, worry plastered on my face. “What about the competition?”

“What about it? Since you have a good reason, you could always withdraw.”

“But you are a jury member!”

Yunho rolled his eyes. “So are the other five professors on the panel. I am confident that the competition will be able to continue without me.”

“What about your lessons?” I inquired worriedly.

“I rescheduled all of them already,” he brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry to have put you through so much trouble.”

“Then don’t disobey me next time,” Yunho said sternly. “Anyways, staying with you will give me peace of mind: I’ll be able to make sure you do not try to kill yourself again.”

“How could I kill myself by standing up?!” I retorted.

My professor glared at me. “You were practically unconscious for thirty hours.”

I puffed up my cheeks. “I was not unconscious, you meanie!”

“Hey, you are the one to talk! I would have thought that you would be happy to know that I would be spending more time with you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you are still a meanie,” I mumbled incoherently.

I looked up at my professor, and gulped when I noticed that he was staring at me again. Inevitably, I became increasingly self-conscious. Due to my dramatic weight loss, the oversized shirt I was wearing did not really cover much, revealing a lot of my pale skin and half of my slim chest.

“You really scared me, you know,” he whispered. “I was just outside the door when I heard you collapse. I didn’t have the keys, so I had no choice but to run to the secretary. By the time I reached you, you were out cold. I called the nearest doctor and he said that I had no choice to wait until you woke up.”

“I’m okay now,” I smiled optimistically. “That’s all that matters. I mean, all’s well that ends well, right?”

“Sometimes, Jaejoongie, happily-ever-afters have side effects.”

I tilted my head. “Like what?”

Yunho rested his chin on his knuckles for a moment before answering me. “Let’s just say that the wounds inflicted before happy endings require a great amount of time to heal. If they heal at all, that is. The physical pain may disappear eventually, but the emotional scar that is left never will. The remnants are your traumatizing memories that will never be forgotten. Even after the happy endings, you won’t disregard the harsh lessons you learned in the process. They change the way you live through your life—sometimes negatively, I’m afraid.”

“If it is negative, then it is not a happy ending!” I argued. “When the authors write down ‘And they live happily ever after’, they mean it in a positive way.”

“In fairytales, perhaps. But in reality, nothing is meant to be perfect—not even happy endings.” Yunho cast me a smile that did not reach his eyes.

I sighed inwardly. I always managed to forget that life was not a fairytale whenever Yunho was near.

```

Yunho meant what he said when he told me that he was going to stay with me until I got better. He hardly left the room except for those weekly errands and meetings that all head professors had to do. During these times, Seul Gi came to visit, and always fussed over me until I felt choked at how attentive she was. Yet, I could not deny the fact that I was grateful to have her around: besides Yunho, she offered the best advice and lively company.

Changmin was also a weekly visitor. Once he found out that I was diagnosed with a serious fever, he started coming to my dormitory to send me ‘Get Well Soon!’ cards and to give me updates on the conservatory as a whole (ex. “They finally installed Wireless Internet in the cafeteria!” or “Ayumi won grand prize at the concerto competition!”). I felt pity for the poor guy. He was so desperate for a friend that he would even risk infecting himself with a fever just to escape loneliness. He was surprised to know that Yunho was taking care of me, but was hushed on the matter: “You’re lucky, Jaejoong” was all he said about it.

Otherwise, it was always Yunho who stayed by my side, and as time went on, I was falling deeper and deeper into the dangerous abyss called love.

“Are you feeling better today?” my professor asked while feeding me the lunch Seul Gi made that morning.

I eagerly nodded while chewing on a mouthful of delicious white rice. “Much better. My head doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Yunho felt my hot forehead and then looked at me skeptically.

I sighed. “Fine, I still have killer headaches. Happy?”

He laughed. “Of course not. I just wanted you to tell me the truth.”

“But I really am much better,” I insisted. “My throat stopped hurting and headaches are getting much less frequent though still strong in magnitude. I can comfortably breathe through my nose now!”

Yunho held out a spoon to my mouth with the last bites of chicken on it. “That’s good to know. Do you think that you’ll be able to get better by the time we board the plane?”

“Yes,” I replied, faking my confidence. Deep down inside, I just wanted to resign from the damn competition. But it was the last few weeks I would have with Yunho, and that fact prevented me from resigning. “I’m definitely going.”

“Our flight is in two days,” he told me with serious eyes, setting the finished plate aside.

“I’m a strong kid,” I joked lamely, punching him lightly on the shoulder to prove just how ‘masculine’ I was. “Unlimited power flows through my veins!” I laughed.

“Really now?” Yunho smirked.

“Yah!” I grinned, pulling him into a weak headlock.

My professor let out a wheezy laugh and fought back. I squealed with delight and squirmed away from his playful retaliations. Eventually he was able to pry my hands off of his neck and pinned them against the softness of the mattress. “Not too tough now, huh?”

I could not help but blush at the position we were in. Yunho was lying on top of me with his toned lower body situated between my legs. My skinny arms were above my head, securely held stationary by Yunho’s large palms. My shirt was stretched downwards so that my whole chest was showing. Our stomachs met and our s were aligned, and my professor’s lips were mere centimeters away from my own. The only things that were separating us were the thin bed sheets.

“N-No,” I stammered, turning my head away from his to hide my smile. “I guess I’m not that tough after all.”

Yunho chuckled and pressed his lips against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. “You give up too easily, Jaejoongie.” My professor got off of me. “Remember, in order to succeed, giving up is the last thing that should be on your mind. Do you still want to become a famous concert pianist?”

Before I arrived at the conservatory, my answer would have come out of my mouth faster than a reflex arc: back then, I had no doubt that becoming the most famous world-class concert pianist would bring me ultimate happiness and pride. When Yunho asked me if I still wanted to continue pursuing my ‘dream’, however, it took me several seconds to process the question itself as a whole.

Deep down inside, I knew that my true answer was “No.” At that point, I wanted to be anything but a concert musician. I mean, practicing the piano for twelve hours a day just did not seem appealing to me, nor did going on stage to unrewardingly fight against stage fright seem enjoyable. I learned quite early during my stay in the conservatory that the life of a concert musician was not and never will be the life for me.

The correct answer, however, was “Yes.” I was sitting in front of my piano teacher who was basically taking on the role as my parent and protector. He was expecting me to say ‘yes’. Why else would I have gone through all the pain and trouble to study with him in the first place? Why else would he have done so much for me? Saying ‘no’ would have been an insult to his pride!

And yet, I also knew that saying ‘no’ was the only action that would save me from continuing on a musician career path no matter how painful it would be. It is funny how one word could change the course of somebody’s life.

I decided to say the correct answer. “Sure, yah, of course,” I mumbled. “Becoming a concert pianist is my life dream.”

“Jaejoongie, are you happy here?”

‘Only when you are around,’ I thought. “Yes,” I answered, nodding slowly.

Yunho exhaled sharply, seeming to lose his patience. “Why do you hate this place?”

“I don’t,” I lied.

My professor clenched his jaw. “Which people are ‘mean and nasty’ to you?”

“Everybody is nice to me.”

“Jaejoongie, what happened?” Yunho asked me in the most threatening voice I have ever heard in my life. If Threats could talk, Yunho just about recreated the monologue.

I gulped and said nothing while Yunho waited for an answer. “I-I guess I’m just not used to this place. I mean, I came from the suburbs, so I am used to little close-knit communities where everybody knows everybody. Here, it’s just so different. The people are not as accommodating as those back home, and they are must less willing to help people in need.”

“Go on.”

“This place is really scary,” I continued hesitantly. “The first time I went to practice, I saw a girl running out of a practice room because her hands were cut up from blades. Then I got kicked out unfairly by another girl when I just took five minutes of my practicing hours to go to the bathroom.” I swallowed. “And then when I attempted to use that girl’s strategy to keep my practice room, I was forced out.”

“Who forced you out?”

My stomach tightened. ‘It would really hurt him if I told him the truth,’ I thought. ‘But his eyes look so earnest that I just do not want to lie to him.’ “It doesn’t matter,” I stammered. “All’s come and passed.”

My professor nodded in agreement. “Jaejoongie, is piano really your innermost passion?”

I turned to look at Yunho, and was met with somber eyes that gave away nothing. It wasn’t fair: he always knew exactly what I was thinking and yet I never had a clue of what HE was thinking. “Yes,” I murmured after a few hesitant seconds, “Piano is very important to me; it’s basically one of the few things that I see engraved in my future.”

“Okay,” my professor nodded. “Just make sure you do not lose sight of what is really important. Don’t become a large bird.”

‘It’s too late for that,’ I wanted to tell him. ‘It’s too late for me to do anything about that.’

My professor’s eyes wandered around the room and stopped at the family picture that I placed on my nightstand. He pointed to the woman on the left. “Is that your mother?”

“Yah.”

Yunho smiled and pointed to the little smiley boy in the picture that could have easily come off as a little girl. “That is you?” he asked, more like a statement than a question.

I nodded again. “How did you know?”

My professor looked at me intensely. “Your smile gave your identity away. I could recognize it anywhere—it’s like a part of your soul.”

“Aren’t the eyes the key to the soul?” I blinked ponderously.

“You are quite different in that way, Jaejoongie. You always put your whole soul into your smile; that’s why it’s so surreally beautiful. You lovely doe eyes are just a bonus.”

I blushed.

“Smile for me,” Yunho ordered gently.

“W-What? Why?”

“Smiling, which brings out the essence of happiness, is beneficial to one’s health and well-being,” Yunho explained. “I also just wanted to see your smile again. It always brightens up my day.”

With burning cheeks, I did as he wanted and consciously felt the ends of my lips rise.

Yunho smiled in response.

Peculiarly enough, my headaches disappeared and the heat in my forehead dispersed.

```

During the last few days of my recovery, Yunho and I grew extremely close (or closer, considering the fact that we have been rather close in the first place). Opening up to him became much easier, and many times Yunho did not need to pry it out of me anymore. Eventually, I told him almost everything from the time I stepped into the conservatory to the present. I told him about the time I had trouble finding my dormitory room and nobody helped, about the crappy cafeteria food, and even about my incident with Yoochun (which was met with a few tears).

The only thing I was unable to tell him of was my love for him. Instead, I smiled more brightly and more frequently than before, hoping that those smiles themselves would tell him of my secret feelings—like something that would happen in those magical fairytales. It was only many years later when I realized that Yunho got the message.

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Okay, I DID wake up at 6:50 a.m. this morning to post this but winglin wasn't working. SO HERE IT IS!!!