...

No, the thing that actually bothers him right now is how his hand is tingling, with some kind of sensation his mind can't quite put a name to, maybe because he just woke up and it's still fogged with sleep. When Sungjong tries harder, he vaguely recalls having similar feeling when he was still a kid -- few years back that sometimes feel like ages ago -- holding on to the ribbon of his yellow bunny-shaped balloon given by the smiling noona at the park's entrance, before some kid bumped into him from behind and the ribbon slipped from his grasp, the balloon soon floating up, a yellow dot against the vast blue sky until Sungjong could see no more, leaving his hand reaching up for something he knew he would never get back.

He had been too stubborn - even then, at the tender age of six - to cry over something like that, but when he grew older Sungjong understood that that day at the park, he had learned what it felt like to lose something he held dear.

Now Sungjong has to frown at the thought, because it completely makes no sense. But then again, nothing much does when he thinks too much in the morning - or in any given time of the day at all - and clearly he has been thinking too much.

...