A/N: Hi everybody.

First of all, I'd just like to say sorry for the huge delay. There are no excuses for this one. I've been dragging out the story long enough and it's my fault for not attending to it fast enough. I did suffer from a bad case of writer's block, but again, that's not an excuse. This one is on me.

Second of all, whether or not you're a reader who's followed this from the very beginning when I started it on my Livejournal, or whether you're a reader who started this on AFF, I'd just like to say thank you. Thank you for reading and being a part of the audience for this story. I'll always be grateful for you deciding to click 'Next' after each chapter.

Third of all, now that my writer's block has worn off, rest assured I'll be prompt in updating the story. Of course, now that it's in its thirty-second chapter (which is a tad too long for a story, if you ask me), it's nearing its end. I don't plan to drag this beyond the fortieth chapter, so it's a sure thing that the end is in sight. If you're still around for this ride, hang on tight, it's coming to an end soon. And I promise I'll make this journey end as nicely as possible.

Finally, do enjoy this chapter. It's slightly longer than previous chapters, I believe. Again, sorry for the long wait, and thank you for sticking around. :)

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Chapter 32

Siwon sees his house in the distance and all the previous thoughts haunting him had promptly disappeared. All he truly wanted was to fall into the arms of his bed and allow himself to be knocked out cold so he could just stop thinking about—

“Siwon.”

A silhouette appears from down the street, sporting a face he had not expected to see. In fact, this was the last person he had been expecting to show up here, and now.

“Steph—“

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said about it being sympathy.” There was some newfound kind of firmness in her words and he heard it. Whether this was for the better or the worse was left to be seen.

“You don’t have to say sorry… I can see why you would get that idea.”

She looks at him, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. He wonders how long it took for him to finally see how seriously beautiful she was.

“No, I have to. I keep telling you that I’m in love with you but I never stopped to think about how you would’ve felt.”

He wasn’t sure if he understood her. “You’re not hurting me when you tell me—“

“No, let me finish!” It was only now when she became aware of the tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t hope enough. I didn’t see any glint of hope for the two of us and I just took it as that. I didn’t have enough faith in the two of us working out and I always assumed that I was this stupid, silly little girl harboring a crush on someone who would never look at me the same way I look at him.” The hurt in her voice became ostensible when she felt the first of her tears fall.

He leaned forward a bit, as if ready to step towards her to hug her and stop her from crying. But she leaned back, not ready to fall into his arms just yet.

“I didn’t let myself accept that I always had feelings for you,” he says, as softly as possible, as if afraid that any louder a volume could disrupt the balance they managed to create. “If you want to put it the way you did, I guess… We were both at fault.”

“We were both at fault,” she repeated, each word becoming clearer than the one before. “It’s true.” More of her tears began to fall, but she put a hand out to stop him from coming any closer.

“Fany—“

“I know… You’re trying to come here to dry my tears. But it’s time I stopped crying.” She pauses to wipe her tears off with the back of her own two hands. “It’s time I stopped my tears myself. It’s time I do this by myself.” She looks up at him with a much drier face than before. “It’s time we do this ourselves. The pieces fit now, and it’s up to the both of us to give ourselves a happy ending.”

He isn’t sure what the right response is, but looking at her expectant eyes and his own plight, he knew the answer was right there.

“Do the pieces fit, Siwon?” She asks him.

He stepped closer to her to close up the gap between them.

“The pieces fit,” he answers.

Then she puts her two hands around his face to pull him down for something he never imagined would ever happen between the two of them. Something he never imagined, but should have hoped for.

She kisses him gently, until his arms wrap around her to pull her in for something even more. He was kissing her back, but not in the same way she had kissed him.

He was kissing her back, in a way to tell her every little thing he couldn’t put into words before. Everything from the very beginning, everything from when he still tried to run from the reality that was he being in love with her.

It’s a passionate lip-lock that could very well be considered the beginning to their story.

After all, there could be no happy ending without a good beginning.

=

At night, Jessica sits quietly with her back against the headboard of her bed. She reaches over to her nightstand, and picks up the photo frame she had placed there long ago.

It was the photo from their ice cream date. As short as it was, that date was one of her happiest moments in life.

She’ll never be able to forget how euphoric she felt that afternoon. When walking in the same step, hand-in-hand with him just right beside her, ready to spend some quality time in the open as if they were the only two in the world – that was euphoria for her.

When all that happiness rushed in and filled her up from the bottom of her heart to every vestige of her – that was what he meant to her.

She may have wandered around aimlessly before meeting him, but it’s not to say that she doesn’t recognize her anchor when she sees it. He was her anchor.

And that was how strong of a bond they could’ve had.

She’d be able to float adrift in the vast waters while he keeps her safely anchored to stable ground. He’ll never let go, unless she does.

But when a whirlpool appears in the undisturbed waves and the water starts rushing into your system without warning, even an anchor wouldn’t be enough to keep you from drowning.

How much of their relationship was just an ephemeral bout of harmony?

And how much of their relationship was here to last?

Perhaps he truly is too good for her. He’s given her more than she could ever hope for, and he’s given her more than he’s given himself.

And her? She was just a girl, one who had no clue what the future held in store for her, but knew with all her heart that if she ever had to live through a moment where she would lose him, she wouldn’t be able to.

The future is an uncertain one, but she’s certain that losing him will destroy her.

So she decides to be a coward and end things here, so she could deal with the pain of her own actions, rather than deal with the pain of fate playing tricks on her.

=

Time passes.

=

“You’re being silly.”

It’s a normal morning, and Jessica’s finally starting to feel like she’s going back to being herself again. She isn’t sure how long she’s been a walking zombie for, but it’s been quite a while, and she thinks for sure that the effects of the break-up have finally worn off.

That is, until she’s strapping on her Mary Janes and her baby sister suddenly steps out of the kitchen, mid-cereal prep, with a scathing look on her face.

It’s an odd expression for her to have, because she’s been unusually kind for the past few weeks since it happened, and Jessica was starting to get used to it.

“Did I button my blouse wrong?” Jessica asks nonchalantly.

“No.” Her tone was becoming condescending, and she’s wondering just what the heck got into her sister this morning.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Enlighten me, please. I have school in a while, so please don’t take too long.”

They hear the chatter of the three international school students from next-door – Donghae’s housemates – as they make their own way to school. Krystal frowns.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know why I just said that.”

“I really don’t.”

She’s done with her shoes, so she gets up and reaches for the door. “Are you going to tell me now, or are we leaving this conversation for dinner?”

“We’ve been leaving this conversation for dinner ever since it happened. If you’re not going to talk about what happened of your own accord, then I’m going to have to pry it out of you.”

Jessica swallows and opens the door, letting the sunlight from outside wash into the house. “For dinner it is, then.”

=

Krystal sits alone in the living room, munching on her cereal. Then she recalls how she once went all the way to the house next door just to get some cereal from him.

Sometimes, even after all this time has passed since the big fallout happened, she still thinks about how he’s doing. She rarely sees him now, given that he’s often holed up in his room (it’s not that she knows, it’s just a smart guess – she’s usually right anyway).

Her sister still hasn’t dealt with it head-on; she’s never confronting it, only running away from it. Her sister needs answers, but she’s not asking any questions. Jessica’s only avoiding, escaping, and sometimes, Krystal wants her to just run into a dead end.

Krystal knows better than to ask the hard questions. Her sister could use some tough love, but Krystal’s not sure how much she could take until she breaks. So she decides, a little irresponsibly, that she’ll just watch from the sidelines until her sister finally breaks. That was the only outcome Jessica had coming, now that she’s decided to flee from the facts. She’ll just do her best to pick up the pieces and mend her sister’s heart back into its original shape.

Then she wonders about whether or not Donghae has anyone to mend his heart back the way she’ll do Jessica’s.

Sigh.

She hates the fact that this was the only boy her sister’s dated that she’s liked this much.

She was starting to open up to him, too.

Then she thinks of how break-ups never just affect the two people responsible for it. There’s always going to be collateral damage.

But ever since she’s arrived back home here, his friendship was really keeping her going. She really didn’t want her older sister’s heartbreak to stop her from having a friend.

With that, she puts down the cereal, and looks at the clock. He gets home early today, earlier than her sister would, and it’d make for a good opportunity to talk.

She’s really missed talking to Donghae, too.

=

Nobody’s talked about what happened.

And truth be told, though he knew he needed someone to talk to, he was plenty glad that nobody brought up the topic. He was thankful for friends that knew how to read him, because no matter how much he needed to talk about it, all he wanted was to kick it to the back of his mind.

Even Hyukjae, his best friend, knew better than to bring her up in conversations. Sometimes Stephanie – now Siwon’s dear girlfriend, partly thanks to him – looks at him with this pained expression in her eyes, and he wonders if she’s heard anything about what happened from the other person involved in his big fallout.

He almost never sees her now, not even at the steps outside her house. Sometimes he gets darkly amused at how he used to wait by the windows, just to catch the slightest of glimpses of her coming back home. Now? Now he’ll do anything to avoid seeing her around.

It’s funny; because after all the time that’s passed, he’s convinced he should feel a lot better now.

He sure looks a lot better – he’s past the stage of dark circles and sunken eyes, the pale skin and the malnourished aura.

But he definitely didn’t feel any better.

He doesn’t let it show, but those little stories of heartbreak and falling out of love that other people share seem to resonate with him a lot more than it used to, even in the past, when he was just a silly boy pining over the girl next door.

He’s a little envious of those people, actually. Because at least, even when their break-ups hurt like hell, they always got their answers – answers to why they fell apart.

It’s the same kind of answers he wanted from her, but is not sure whether he’ll ever have the courage to ask for.

He realizes that now that wanting to know if she feels the same way as he does is not actually as nerve-wracking as this – as wanting to know why they fell apart.

What if he’s just not cut out for loving?

Then he may never fall in love again.

=

Jessica was getting her books from the locker when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

She turns, and finds Yoona staring at her.

It’s an unexpected visit, because she hasn’t talked to her since it happened. She collects herself, mentally preparing for whatever was about to transpire in her conversation with her.

The doe-eyed girl dons a sheepish look on her face, but doesn’t talk. She just stares at Jessica for a while, as if waiting for her to talk. But just as Jessica’s about to open , Yoona starts first.

“About Donghae…”

The first thing that comes to Jessica’s head is the question of why everyone thought that today would be a good day to bring up the topic of the big fallout.

Jessica just looks at her expectantly, not sure what a proper response would constitute. It takes a while, but Yoona finally goes on.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. It’s sincere, it’s raw, and it makes Jessica pause for a second, before breaking out in a short chuckle.

Yoona’s bewildered, and with good reason. She had expected a million different kinds of reactions from the girl, but a chuckle definitely wasn’t in the list.

“It wasn’t because of you,” Jessica finally says.

“But—I—“

Jessica puts a hand up politely. “Listen to me, Yoona. Whatever happened with me and him, it wasn’t because of you.” A pause for her to think through her words. “It was… Because of other reasons.”

Yoona’s not quite a believer this time, and Jessica has to repeat her words to drill them into the girl’s head. “It’s true, Yoona. It wasn’t because of your words. I’ll admit, there was a misunderstanding there, but that’s all it was. A misunderstanding. It’s not the reason why we…” She chokes on her words, but tries not to let it show. “Why we broke up,” she whispers.

“Then does Donghae know about those reasons?”

The question catches her off-guard. She wasn’t expecting Yoona to ask about that, but more so than that, she doesn’t have an answer to the question.

Mainly because she’s been running and running from reality, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Yoona now, was she?

“I think he does,” Jessica finishes quickly, hurriedly shutting her locker and starting down the hallway. “I have to rush for class, I’ll see you ar—“

“Your next class doesn’t start in thirty minutes,” Yoona answers matter-of-factly.

Really? The girl came prepared for an interrogation session?

Jessica curses inwardly, the gears in her head working fast as she turns to face her. “It’s an extra class,” she adds, starting down the hallway again.

“He’s been talking in his sleep,” Yoona mumbles.

Jessica slows to a stop, slightly surprised that her own ears were still listening out for anything else Yoona had to say. She tries to shrug it off, but Yoona continues, catching up with her hastily.

“He’s a pretty loud sleep-talker, and sometimes he wakes us all up with his monologues. He mentions you a lot.”

Jessica steels herself and faces the girl. “I don’t know why you’re…”

“I’m telling you all this because I think he still wants to know why you broke up with him,” she answers quietly. “He doesn’t know, and from what he says in his sleep, it’s pretty obvious that he wants to.” She hesitantly places a firm hand onto Jessica’s arm. “I’m not blaming you for anything, Jessica. I know a heartbreak like this one doesn’t just go one-way. But even if it’s just for closure…” She beckons for Jessica to look into her eyes, just with that pleading tone of hers.

Jessica’s not sure what the sinking feeling in her chest is, but she’s sure it’s related to the knots she messily tied up in her heart being loosened, one by one.

“He deserves to know.”

Jessica feels her lips curling up at the ends, and it feels surreal because she’s not sure she intended to smile; it was a cognitive gesture commanded by the brain. She takes Yoona’s hand off of her arm, as gently as ever, and swallows the lump in down so it doesn’t break her façade.

“He’s… A fighter,” she says, with the most nonchalant tone she could muster. “He’s a fighter, Yoona. He’ll survive this.”

And with that, she fights a fight of her own – the fight to stop her tears from flowing before she can leave the scene.

She turns on her heels to leave, her mind automatically taking her to any hidden spot in school where she could cry her heart out.

She’s going to have to keep running from reality if she doesn’t want to break down in tears like this again.

=

Krystal was standing outside, on the steps leading up to her front door, when Donghae arrives home after school. She’s standing with her arms folded across her chest, staring pointedly in his direction, as he strides up the steps to his own front door.

He doesn’t want to make any contact with her, but she clears to attract his attention.

“Hey, you,” she calls out.

He freezes for a second, key in his hand. He lets his hand drop to his side before turning to her. “Yeah?”

“It’s been long since I’ve been in your house.”

He tries not to look bewildered, but he knows he failed when Krystal purses her lips and starts crossing the grounds between their houses. “What?” He squeaks.

“I used to visit pretty often,” she points out with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

“Is something up?” He asks.

“I just want to talk to a friend,” she mumbles, almost indistinctly. Her tone takes a dip and he recognizes that this is her sincere tone. She means it, about wanting to talk to him, and he knows he’s never going to be able to say no to that.

He makes a guttural sound of affirmation, but doesn’t move past that stage. So she tilts her head to the side, waiting for him to do something else.

“Are you going to invite me into your house?”

He’s taken aback by the query. But it’s not because of what she asked for – it’s because he’s heard this before, from her. It was when he met her for the first time and she was sitting outside her front door, bags in tow.

He smiles slightly; he couldn’t help it. It was before anything transpired, and it was one of the few memories he still recalled very vividly.

“If you’d like,” he says, recalling his response from memory, “you can come in.”

She smiles at him, an unspoken gratitude in the way her lips curve up.

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