A stack of five empty plates sit on a tray as we’re sitting on the carpet inside our hotel room, sharing a pint of ice cream after we had just finished dinner. She sticks a spoon in and I watch her consume the cold dessert. I can’t help but look at her free hand just pressed on the carpet, thinking back to how it feels holding her. I like the feeling of her soft skin, her hands enveloped in mine, the way it shoots these electric currents through my spine and how absurd it makes me feel yet it feels damn right. I want to hold it again. But then why should I? Jacob isn’t here nor is Catherine.

“About Catherine…she can really be salty sometimes,” I tell her and she just smiles it off but it doesn’t reach her eyes and this is how I know my apology won’t suffice. I let out a breath and shake my head. Haerin’s been sitting quietly across me since we left the dinning hall. There’s that feeling of uneasiness in me seeing her in a state where she’s quiet around me and just forcibly smiling at me. I don’t like this feeling.

“We dated for two years when I was studying in Vancouver,” I say and her head shoots up to give me a look. My lips stretch into a small smile and let out a breath as I decide to go on with my story, “Catherine was my first friend around and we just clicked. Probably because we share the same lifestyle, she came from a family who faced the same situation and so she understood me better than most, she gets me, she gets how I am and where I’m coming from,”

“And you guys were just so compatible that you broke up?” She sardonically remarks and a light chuckle escapes my lips.

“I broke up with her because she lied about certain things that I found out eventually,” I shake my head and smile like it’s the most pathetic thing I have ever said, “I mean is that shallow? People have told me so but I’ve always convinced myself it was way more than enough reason to leave someone, you know,”

“Anyway, Catherine and I weren’t really that attached with each other. Our relationship has always been casual and practical. We go on a date at least once a week, we only meet up when we want to, and we talk when we have to and it’s always…” I trail off, trying to find the right word to describe how it always was with Catherine and I.

“Expected?” She says and I give her a look, “Have you ever called her past midnight or came over her place just because?” I arch a brow.

“No. Why would I do that? She sleeps at 10,”

Haerin lets out a breath, “You’re telling me you went on a scheduled date with the same girl for two years, met up with her only when you both wanted to, talked only when you had to and you called that love?”

“I never called it that,” I tell her and now she looks confused, “Besides, if I called it love what would you know? For all I know your head is only filled of things you see in movies,” She turns red and suddenly not able to talk.

I shake my head and she clears , “I have a question,”

“What?”

“Why are we pretending to be in a relationship in front of everyone?” She asks and I stiffen. I give her a look and she’s just staring at me with those innocent eyes. Pretending. Yes, pretending that I’m pretending. I push the thought at the back of my head.

“Jacob was trying to flirt with you and the bosses are genuinely worried. I had to step in so he’d back off,” I tell her and she’s looking at me like there’s more and there is. I let out a breath, “And also because I want Catherine to back off. It’s a win-win for the both of us,”

“But what if I don’t want Jacob to back off?” My eyes shoot her a piercing look.

“Excuse me?” I say.

“What? Jacob seems fun, he’s a photographer and I bet he’s good at what he does,” She tells me and I roll my eyes. I’m also good at what I do if you must know. She sticks another spoonful of ice cream in as she gives me a look like she’s waiting for me to say something. I can’t help but give her a cold stare. She shifts on her place, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So Jacob is your type?” I ask curtly and she’s flustered over my sudden question.

“N-no…” She stammers as she hangs her head low to avoid my stare. A pang of guilt hits me when I see her sitting like a little kid across me not knowing what to do next, afraid she’ll be reprimanded on the next move she does, “The staff were whispering about me—well us—earlier and it wasn’t the most pleasing thing in the world,”

I scoot closer and lift her head up to look at me and when I do, her shocked orbs surprises me and I’m lost in her stare. It takes me a while to open my mouth and speak as I am fighting the urge not to ooze in further and place my lips on those pink ones. Maybe lifting her head isn’t such a good idea after all. Nice going, Sehun. Her brows furrow upon the silence wrapping us both yet I’m holding her chin up. I gulp and try to compose myself.

“Remember what I told you that night in the balcony?” I ask her.

She puts on a thinking face, “That you’ll puke if I play another Ed Sheeran song?” She asks hesitantly.

“No,” I roll my eyes, “The other thing,”

“Can you just tell me again because you’ve said a thousand things that night, like how prom is lame and that it isn’t magical and that—”

“And that you should tell me when you can’t handle yourself,” I cut her off curtly as she gives me a look. I let out a breath, “Because I’ll try to wear a cape,” Her face softens and her lips forms into a smile.

“I’m your Lois Lane now? Huh, superman?” She jokes.

I can feel my own lips stretch into a smile, “Yeah, you’re mine,”

“So this is a New Zealand affair,” She tells me and I hesitate to nod an answer, “We’re dating for as long as we’re in New Zealdand?”

“You can put it that way, I guess,”

The night ends and I’m lying in bed with Haerin. She’s already sleeping, facing my way and I’m here next to her facing her. Something about her makes me feel like tonight I can sleep well. Maybe tonight I won’t see the 7-year-old Sehun sitting on the staircase, watching his parents argue about the divorce, argue about who gets more money, who gets the company, who gets the mansion, who gets custody over their son. Maybe tonight I won’t dream about that. Maybe tonight it won’t haunt me. Maybe tonight it won’t hurt me.

Ah, this girl. Her smile makes me like to think that not all that hurts are actually painful. Her presence makes me think that there are, in fact, other emotions other than just anger or pain. For years I’ve been sleeping like the scared 7-year-old boy that I was and waking up as angry as I am for getting left behind by the people I expected to stand by me. But now I’m sleeping next to a girl who makes me think that there are other things, bright things, m