5 Years Old

"Dara, why are you crying?" A little boy with a blonde hair ran up to the swing set, where a tiny girl with a long brown hair was sitting on her swing, crying her eyes out.

"I d-don't want to talk about it Kris." She managed to sob her words out as she rubbed her eyes with back of her tiny hands.

"Come on Dara, tell me." He begged her on bending his head down to her face; he tried to catch her eyes that were averted towards the ground, still leaking tears, "Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"No!" He could tell how bad she wanted to say something, but instead she returned to her fit of soft cries.

"I'll give you my juice box." He pushed it into her face, trying to bribe a confession out of her.

She contemplated for a few moments before giving him a small nod, "A boy pushed me down the hill and ripped a hole in my dress." She motioned towards her dress and he could see the large hole ripped into it.

"Who was it?" Kris asked with a serious face, he was upset and it was clearly evident in his childish voice as she shook her head at him, "I’m not giving the juice box, until you tell." He was bribing again.

She pouted, not wanting to tell, but was so dry from all of the crying she had done so she gave into him, "It was Woobin."

Kris nodded with a smile, handing over the juice box, "Wait right here," with hat he ran off into a distance in the park.

Not too soon after Kris had to be taken home early. He had given Woobin a bloody nose, and smashed his sand castle.

"I’m gonna marry that girl someday." He told his mom, pointing Dara out through the car window. She was sitting back on the swing, happily on the straw of her juice box.

"Yeah? Well I hope that future wife of yours is worth the time out you'll be getting when we get home, young man." She said calmly to him as she buckled him into his car seat.
 

"No Timeout!" He cried out as she pulled away from the park.

13 years old

"Why are you crying?" The boy with blonde hair asked walking up to the swing set. A young girl with pin straight, brown hair was crying.

"I d-dont want to talk about it, Kris." She said frustrated, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Come on tell me." He sat down on the swing next to her and gently rubbed her back, he did his best to calm her before asking, "Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?"

She shook her head allowing her straight hair to flow in the wind, "No."

"I'll give you my necklace." He tugged at the chain around his neck that held two dog tags.
 

She wiped her tears away once more, "My date for the dance stood me up." She rolled her watery eyes; she figured she looked so pathetic.

"Who was it?" He asked seriously as he removed the necklace from his neck. "She shook her head again, "Come on." He cracked a beautiful smile, "You don't get this necklace, until I get a name." He held up the necklace, jingling it in front of her face.

She rolled her eyes before whispering, "I-Ilwoo."