It's when the snow starts melting, when the birds start chirping, when spring is right around the corner, that she starts to figure out. He thought he could pull through, that he could keep it a secret he takes to his grave. But her eyes are screaming and accusing, and it's just plain hurt that they reflect.

She hangs onto a fine line of mixed emotions. "We've met before, haven't we?"

"Huh?" His eyes almost go wide. Almost.

She closes her eyes a moment to comtemplate, before they're open again, only to gaze into empty space. "The thing is that every day I'm still struggling to recall stuff that I don't remember doing, stuff that I don't remember saying, and people I don't remember meeting. But mostly I'm struggling to recall people I don't remember forgetting." She presses her palms together as she stares at the credits rolling on the screen. "I've known you before. Or atleast I think so."

"Maybe you do." He smiles an uncertain one as he grabs her hand in his and leads her out of the theatre and onto the freezing streets. "Maybe next time we should just chill at home. It's still a little too cold." He mumbles as he holds her palm tighter, idly making their way to the pretty deserted parking lot.

But she wriggles her hand free from his grasp, leaving him baffled. Crouching into a fetus position, she just starts breaking down in the middle of an empty parking lot.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Voice shaken from concern and fright.

Her broken sobs echo. She struggles to speak. "There... there is this pair of eyes that's been haunting me." She starts. "And it looks like yours. I see it in the back of my mind; vague and haunting. But those eyes are-" A sob interrupts. "They're almost.." She sniffs, ".....almost covered by auburn hair. But you have white hair."

He crouches in front of her, and takes her palm into his calmly. He knew that this was going to happen at some point.

"And it drives me crazy. It drives me crazy because I don't remember hating your auburn hair. I don't remember scolding you for it. I don't remember staring into your eyes with your curtain of auburn hair almost covering it. My memories are scattered and I am sick and tired of trying to put the pieces back together. And I am tired of the doctor's advice about letting me remember on my own accord, fed up of him talking about triggers and I am so sick of my family keeping so many secrets from me. I don't even know if I have or had friends. So will you please just ing tell me if we have known each other in my pre-amnesiac state?" She sobs one last time before she rips her hand out of his hold to cover .

He runs his fingers through her hair, in an attempt to reassure her that things were fine. And they will be fine. Words are too much of a drag; actions speak louder. "Shh. Calm down." He mumbles quietly. But he's not sure if he's speaking to her or his own heart.

"I don't remember loving an Oh Sehun with auburn hair. I don't remember losing Oh Sehun. And I don't even remember forgetting you." Her voice is raspy.

When she calms down and gets back on her feet with his help, Sehun doesn't speak. Not even when they are finally back in the car. Nor when they are driving back. But he silently rubs his thumb against the back of her palm as