Yixing tried to sleep that night. Twisting and turning on his bed, his mind was a mess. He had been thinking a lot lately. He couldn't stop. He tried to, but his past was still haunting him.

There were times that his memories would appear like puzzle pieces. If the pieces fit, then it would form into a big picture—like it was real. But there was no big picture. Nothing was real, just an illusion. Illusions that made him walk the opposite of what he supposed to be heading, forward.

"Nicholas Sparks loves having a character die in his books, eh?" she said, laying on Yixing's lap.

He ruffled her hair. She likes it when he does that.

"But that makes his books well-loved," he twirled strands of her hair on his finger.

"I don't get people," she closed the book she was holding.

"Nobody does."

He missed her, every single day without even knowing that he does.

"Thank you," he was interrupted by the sound of Hyeri's voice. Even though he was just recalling, it felt real.

At least it was something to distract him from being occupied by his memories of her.

Whenever he's around her, he could feel that he's at ease.

Well, he didn't know that Hyeri feels the same way about him, too.

Thinking about it, he had finally fallen asleep before dawn.