Maybe it's the way that the night is still

Or the sound of the rain on my windowsill

That's making all the pieces fit

Making it all make perfect sense

- Carrie Underwood

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. She was sure she did. But she wasn’t so sure if she was in love with him. Chen Bolin was many things. He was kind, caring, affectionate, honest, funny, and not to mention down right good looking. He would hold her hand when they went out, made sure she walked on the inner side of the sidewalk. He’d carry her bags, buy her pineapple tarts whenever he went back to Taiwan. He would hug her when she got too cold, shield her from the scorching sun. He was everything that she had ever dreamed of in a man. But why is it that at the end of the day, as she lied in her bed, snuggled under the covers, her last thought was never of him.

Instead, it was of a different man. One who fed her lines so cheesy she swore she wanted to throw up, one who would constantly bug her, one who apologises for no apparent reason but just to annoy her. He was not your typical good looking man but he was charming. He has a way with words that made her heart flutter, her knees weak and the spot between her legs throb like no other. He was crude and forward but at the same time, poetic and a mystery. He was the kind that no girl would bring home to meet her parents.

So here she was, standing in front of the most beautiful view, overlooking the Han River, the wind brushing against her rosy cheeks, waiting for her future to begin. From afar, she could hear him calling her name and she turned. Her breath was caught in as he approached her, his hair flying in the wind, a bright smile etched to his beautiful face. As he reached her, he took a moment to catch his breath before apologizing for being late. She smiled and waved it off. He grabbed her hand and gently tugged her towards him, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. He was warm. He whispered in her ear something barely audible and gingerly pulled away. He held one of her hands and reached into his pocket with his other. Her breath hitched as she saw a small velvet box in his clenched palm. He was saying something but she couldn’t hear. Her eyes squinted, trying to read his lips.

He then opened up the box and there, in the center, lay the most beautiful pair of earrings. She glanced at him. He was smiling, grinning actually. He wished her a belated happy birthday, and apologised for not wishing her sooner. She smiled and thanked him, carefully closing the box and accepting it, putting it into her bag. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He asked if she would go somewhere with him. She agreed.

They had been driving for a while and she had fallen asleep. When she woke up, she was alone in the car. He was nowhere to be seen. She looked out that window and noticed a familiar view. She reached over to unfasten her seatbelt when her hands brushed against something. There, on the driver’s seat was a card.

Your real present awaits outside.

Frowning in confusion, she got out of the car. They were on the other side of the river. At the place she came often. She heard her name being called. She recognised the voice. Her heart fluttered. She turned and let out the breath that she didn’t even knew she was holding. There he was strutting towards her in his Halyang hoodie, his cap resting snugly on his head. As soon as he reached her, he grabbed her by the waist, pulled her against his chest and kissed her - hard and deep. His hand ran up the side of her face before resting at the back of her neck, supporting it as he tilted her head more. She couldn’t remember how long they were kissing but when they parted, they were out of breath. It was amazing that they didn’t need words to say what they wanted to say right then. She brought her hand to his reddening cheek, gently caressing the skin. He smiled.

As she looked into his eyes, the same eyes that 6 years ago was caught staring at her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, the same eyes that still looked at her full of love and desire, the same eyes she sees every time she closed hers - she thought to herself, he was everything she never wanted. But he was all that she needed.

Bolin watched the pair behind the pillar. He smiled wistfully, his hand buried in the pocket of his pants, his fingers tracing the circular silver object. It would have been beautiful on her finger, he thought. But he knew better. Chen Bolin was many things. But the one thing that really mattered to her was, he was not Kang Gary.