Luhan doesn’t exactly remember Jieun ever entering the room, or even when he fell asleep in the first place, but the moment his eyes blink open, she’s already sitting up wide awake and staring back at him from across the room. He jumps out of bed, backing up until his back hits the wall, and he freaks.

            “How did you get in here?” he asks.

            “Through the door?”

            “Wait… no. I mean, why are you here? I thought you’re supposed to always stay in your room.”

            Jieun puts up a pout and in the most irritable voice she can make, she whines, “It’s not like I’m really leaving my room! Well I am, but still. You’re just in the room next to me. Keep it a secret from Nurse Kang. Please. Please! Pretty please?”

            “And what makes you think I’ll do as you say?” Luhan crosses his arms, prepared to put up a fight.

            She goes over to his side and puts his arms back down. However, she keeps her hands steady on him and begs once more. “I know you’re not as old, or as gullible, or as easily moved as the other patients who used to stay in this room, but can you please just do this for me? I really won’t be a bother; I’ll even stay silent if you want me to. I just feel so suffocated staying in my room all the—“

            He cuts her off with an “okay.”

            “Wait, what did you say?”

            “I said okay.”

            Then, for some strange reason which defies all logic, she begins to counter him. “I mean, if it really will become a bother for you, you don’t have to, but—“

            “I already said its fine, although I can always change my mind if you insist.” He jokes sarcastically.

             “No! Please don’t!”

            He wags his finger at her direction, grabbing his drawing pad and pastel crayons in the other, and reminds the woman, “Then keep your promise and stay as quiet as possible. I’m busy.”

            ----------

            The following days are spent similar to the ones of the last and the days before and so on. With every new day comes a new sketch of some sorts, be it a simple drawing of an apple or a complex design of the Eiffel Tower or Han River. But every sketch leaves Jieun in awe, no matter how simple it may be. It’s come to the point where keeping in silence may just be the easiest job of all, and keeping her eyes off of him and the magic that flows through his hands that may be much harder.

            One day, she decides to break from her long-driven silence and asks him a question of sorts. “I’m guessing you draw for a living?”

            “Correction. I make art.””

            “You’re an artist?”

            “A freelancer. But an artist nonetheless.”

            Jieun nods her head in response, and after much thought, asks another question. “Do you paint anything in particular?”

            He thinks for a second before shaking his head. “Not anything in particular. Why do you ask?”

            “I just wanted to know if you could paint… seasons. Like summer for example.”

            “I guess I can do that.”

            Then comes the biggest smile that could ever escape from a young maiden’s lips, and it brings a twinkling glint of happiness into Luhan’s eyes.

            “Thank you so much Luhan! I’m just happy. So, so happy.”

            Happiness.

            Luhan liked seeing the sight of that.

            ----------

            Luhan picks up his paintbrush, painting what seems to be a different shade of summer with every sketch and every passing day. However, by the end of the week, vast signs of distraught become evident on his face, and he’s nearly at the stages of giving up.

            He watches as the horrible girl in front of him tosses aside yet another one of what he could consider his “masterful creations.” Not only does she have the nerve to throw away a man’s hard work, but she also has the idea that it’s okay to ask him to fix it. To make another one and another one and another one until it appeals to her satisfaction. It only takes a few more days until he utterly snaps.

            “What’s wrong with it this time?” Luhan scowls, though by the end of his phrase it happens to sound more like a cry or a plea.

            Jieun tosses it to the side, puffing up her cheeks in her own bratty little ways and even takes the liberty of rolling around in his bed sheets out of a fit. Then she erupts from the crumpled sheets of cotton fabric and satin and points all fingers back at him.

            “There’s so many things wrong with this Luhan! And you call yourself an artist!”

            Luhan takes another look at his artwork, checking not once, twice, but three times before he’s completely positive that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with his painting. And thus, that makes him one-hundred percent eligible to be an artist. However, this time he decides to take things a little step further and questions the woman.

            “If there’s so-oooo many things wrong with this painting, then please do point it out for me. I would love to see these errors myself.”

            She smirks back at the man, snatching his masterpiece away from him.

            “Look at these trees.” She points at every other tree drawn in the first three columns of forest. “Do you see these trees?”

            Luhan nods in response, “What’s wrong about them?”

            “It’s not Fall yet, so why do I see red trees, yellow trees, orange trees, trees that aren’t even green?”

            That’s when he starts to scoff, feeling a sense of mockery being thrown at him.

            “You can’t possibly be serious.”

            “Do you think I’m kidding right now?”

            “Then I’m guessing you just must be really, truly, incredibly stupid.”

Outwards comes a laugh of all hysteria breaking loose. Jieun cups her hands over both sides of her face, trying to hide the burning sensation that’s just waiting to erupt.

            “Luhan! What’s so funny?”

            “Jieun, be honest with me. Just how long was it you’ve been locked up in here that you’ve forgotten the fact that all trees don’t all grow up to all be green.” And after a long period of no response, he urges her once again to answer his question.

            “Well… I don’t exactly remember how long ago it was. I come in and out of here often, but the thing is that my stays here in the hospital last much longer than the periods I actually get to go out and venture the world. And even when I get permission to leave, usually only for about three to five days, and I mostly stay inside my parent’s house. So in response to your rude question, I actually don’t even know much at all about life outside of the hospital. I can only watch by the window which is the main reason why I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. It’s time for you to feel guilty, Luhan. Come on.”

            Now it is his turn to remain silent, and more than that, guilty. All he could muster up is the faint word of apologies before Nurse Yoon drags her out of the room for her daily check-ups. She offers up her goodbyes and he waves in return. Then once he knows they’re gone for good, he uses the rest of his energy for the day, laying down in bed, staring out at the world through the window sitting beside him.

And right at that moment, Luhan realizes that all trees really do look green from up here.