( np: BIGBANG-Loser. OMG, THEY ARE BACK GUYSSSSS)

The flight back to Korea are extremely tedious and jarring. It was to the point Dara actually stopped trying to entertain herself with skipping five minutes of this movie to five minutes of a different one and scanning the list to choose another movie that she might like when she actually don’t. There’s also a few recurring thoughts that she might better sleep the hours off, still think it is a good suggestion than staring at the shapeless clouds, but the longing is too solemn and she fell into a pit of restlessness. It was not entirely Kris – part of it, yes – she could admit herself at least that and it was absolutely not her pride talking. She just missed everything about Venice like how a normal traveller felt on his way back home and that is how Dara ends up wishing she had actually printed out those pictures in Kris’s phone.

“Unnie – “

There’s a small tug on Dara’s shirt and she looks down to a little girl with chocolate smudging her lips and jet black hair pulled up into a ponytail. The latter, albeit a stranger, smiled at her with such ease that usually comes from long acquaintance and a crooked teeth pokes on her lower lips just slightly, Dara finds her endearing. She leans in, her eyes darting everywhere as if there’s someone eavesdropping her and whispers. “Can I sit with you, unnie? I didn’t get the window seat and a fairy should be able to see the sky when she’s flying.”

Dara laughs, a good one. One of those she had learned to freely let out when she was in Venice. “Are you really a fairy, sweetie?”

The self-proclaimed fairy nods, a strong hums to assert her point. Dara let her clambered up the seat with a nod and smiles exchanged between them, a wider one from the younger. She sit on Dara’s lap and as she rests her forehead against the cold glass in her own amazement, Dara choked down the emotions welling inside her chest. Maybe there’s something brand new about her. Maybe all the time she had felt so lonely just seem to cramp into this one moment of an innocent stranger and her dying buds of romance. Maybe it’s also the way she could almost see the whole world when the skies is reflected on the little girl’s irises and it was utterly beautiful. They remained like that in silent until that little voice calls her attention.

“Do you fly alone?” She looks up to her. That round eyes is filled with curiosity and Dara lied, nodding her head to her question.

“Why?” She asked again. “It’s not nice to be alone. I have my dolls, we have our tea sets and little cookies, so I’m not lonely. I bring my mom along too.”

Hesitation grows in her as Dara tries to rake for an answer. However, nothing comes up – not a single name or an object or even a pet to say that Dara actually has her own companion. She is not a woman of attachment, not a woman of affection and clearly does not luxury herself with the option of hobbies and such. If they wanted to leave she let them do so and when things are broken she doesn’t mend them. It’s too much to care, too much of a hassle she believed that. It was out of pure luck that she found the career path she’s walking but if this crumbles too, will she even have a heart to fight for it.

Dara wonders, how long have she been so lonely?

“I’m sorry.” A woman, an exact slightly older copy of the little girl on Dara’s lap, approaches Dara hastily. “She must have been disturbing you a lot.” The little girl leaps off and clings on the woman’s neck when the latter bows to Dara, profusely apologizing and explaining her situation.

“That unnie let me sit near to the window, you should thank her, umma.”