While we were in our last year of school, you were living with me still, away from my mom and sister, you got a call. You never told me the specifics of that call, but I knew the following month happened because of that call. 

"Hello?" you said, one February night at one in the morning. I shifted in bed, but then I stopped. The ruffling of the blankets was louder than your voice. 

"...but that's not a reason to call at one AM." I managed to hear that last part of your sentence. "What's the real reason?" 

You listened for a moment, the person on the other end spoke. It was silent in the room. For a moment I thought you'd fallen asleep. Then I heard your trembling voice. 

"Will he be okay?" you asked. 

Questions arose in my head. Who was "he"? Why wouldn't "he" be okay? I wanted to ask you, but you were still on the phone. 

"Okay." you whispered. "Mmhmm. I will. And—" your voice caught. Your voice never catches. It made me worried. "And thank you. For telling me." 

You went back to bed, and turned yourself away from me. I inched closer to you, resting my chin on your shoulder and my hand on your stomach. "Everything okay?" I whispered. You nodded, so I assumed you didn't want to talk about it. I kissed the side of your head, right above your ear and we went back to sleep. 

In the morning you were gone by the time I woke up. I couldn't understand, but I decided that you would tell me when you wanted to tell me, so I didn't ask you about it when you came home that evening. I simply made us some food and we ate as if nothing had changed. After dinner we cleaned up and watched TV, snuggled up in the couch. I don't remember what we were watching, but halfway through, you said you were bored and went upstairs to take a shower. I heard the water start to run. 

I can't lie, I got curious. Your showers generally didn't take this long. I went upstairs and listened. After a bit of nothing but water, I heard sobs. Now I was freaking out, because I hated seeing you cry. I knocked on the door. 

"Seulyoung?" I called. 

"Y-yes?" you answered shakily. 

"What's wrong?" I asked. No answer. "Can I come in?" 

"Will you be a erted little bum?" you asked, causing me to smirk. 

"No." I replied. I heard the door unlock and I let myself in, closing the door behind me. I pulled back the shower curtain and saw you sitting down, your back against the tiled wall. Your clothes were wet and kinda see-through. 

You looked up. "You are a erted little bum." 

Oops. I guess a girlfriend dressed in soaked clothes that wrapped around her tightly wasn't the best thing to prevent the blood from rushing out of my head to other regions of my body. I crouched down. That wasn't the point right now. The point was that you were crying and I wanted to know why. 

"You're going to ask me why I'm crying, right?" you asked, wiping your face from tears, even though the water replaced them quickly. I didn't say anything, only let you go on at your own pace. "And I'm just going to say it's nothing. So please don't ask me. Just stay by my side." 

I was, truthfully, a little disappointed, but I wasn't about to force you to explain yourself to me. "Okay." I said. "But come out of the shower. You'll catch a cold." 

You turned the water off and I wrapped you in a towel, then carried you to our bedroom, getting a small laugh out of you. I laid you down on the bed and sat next to your head, your hair as you stared up at me. 

"You're unbelievable." you said. 

"Hmm?" I mumbled. 

"If it were me, I'd be dying to know what's bugging you." 

"I am, but I'm not going to force you to tell me. You can tell me when you're ready." I smiled. 

"What nation have I saved in my past life to deserve you?" you whispered, barely audible. 

Right back at you, I thought. 

Later that week you came home with a bus ticket to your hometown. You were going to visit for the last week of February. I felt sad that you didn't invite me to come with you, but then I realized you probably didn't want me there. If it had anything to do with your breakdown earlier in the week, I probably wouldn't want to be there, seeing you suffer for reasons I didn't know. 

We spent the two weeks before you left together. After all, there was Valentines day and we couldn't miss out on that. I took you out to a very fancy restaurant, and you got really excited. You looked beautiful in your red dress, your hair curled and your smile bright. It almost made me forget that on the inside, you were crying. 

The second week found us taking a lovely walk by the Han river. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as you. We walked by a few stores and we did some window shopping, just like a couple of years ago when we first met. 

When it was time for you to go, I dropped you off at the bus station. "If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call me. Okay?" I said. 

You nodded. "Same to you. If anything happens here I can come right back." 

"Don't worry about here. Here will miss you, but it will wait patiently." 

We exchanged a long kiss and then you boarded the bus. I waved goodbye until I couldn't see the bus anymore. Then I reached for my phone and texted you. 

«Text me when you get there. I love you! <3» I sent. It was the beginning of a lonely week. 

It took a few days to get used to waking up with the other side of the bed cold. It took a little getting used to not making too much food. It may seem a little dramatic for a week, but it took a week to get used to a week without you. 

On the last day, I was feeling happier. At last, my loneliness would come to an end. Around three in the afternoon, I got a call. 

"Chanyeol-ah... I, I think I'm going to stay a bit longer." you said. Your voice sounded hoarse and raspy, like you just cried. 

"Is there a problem?" I asked. I really had been looking forward to seeing you again, but if it had to be, it had to be. 

"It's... My father, he... passed away." The last part came out as a whisper. 

My heart sank. I wanted to be there with you in your time of torment. I wanted to comfort you and ease the heartbreak. I wanted to wipe the tears off of your face. I wanted to do many things, but I couldn't. "Do you want me to come?" I asked. 

"No, that's okay." you said at first. "Maybe... Yes. Please come." 

"I'll be there by tonight. I love you." I said. We dropped the call. I hurried upstairs and threw things into a bag, not even caring about what it was. Clothes? Got it. Toothbrush, check. Phone, wallet, keys, check, check and check. I thought about it. Something was itching in the back of my head. What was I missing? 

I walked into our closet and I saw it. Your black dress. I remember you telling me about it, sometime last year when we'd gone to see our friend Minseok's wedding. He was the oldest among us, it was expected. You told me you wore this dress to all special occasions. In the list, you did mention funerals. That in mind, I took the dress with me. And if you were going to be wearing a dress, I would need a suit. I took out the simpler one of two. It was a black suit, a white shirt and a black tie. It looked kind of casual, actually. 

I hung the dress with the suit in the bag protecting the suit. I laid it on the floor of my car's trunk. I threw my bag in the back passenger seat, made sure the house was locked up and started to drive. I stopped once for gas, but otherwise, the journey was unhalted for three hours straight. I promised you I would get there by night. I got there at roughly 7:00 PM. When I got to the city, I called you for directions. 

"Down town, there's a statue of a man on a horse. Follow the direction that the horse is turned towards. You'll get to a fork in the road, one going up and one going down. Take up. A few minutes later, you'll find another fork just like that one. Take down. On that street just ask for the Min residence, they'll point it out to you. It's the busiest looking house." 

I found the house quite easily. You were right, it was the busiest looking house. It seemed as if the food going into that house from the neighbours could feed a whole starving village. It probably wasn't that much up close, but those were my observations. 

I knocked on the door. A woman around forty-five or fifty answered. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked like an older version of you. I assumed this was your mother. I bowed deeply. 

"I am sorry for your loss." I said. 

She