Haechan sits at his desk, just like he has been all day. He grabs a piece of paper, writes, looks down at his work, crumples it into a ball, throws it on the floor, and then gets a fresh sheet of paper to start the ordeal all over again. There must be at least thirty crumpled balls in his trash can and even more littering the ground, his bed, and even in the hallway.

If Y/N was here, Haechan knows exactly what she'd do. She'd place her hands on her hips – her very nice hips – and say, "You know, there's a reason why they invented erasers." Then she'd proceed to scold him on how he was single-handedly killing off the earth's precious forests, one tree at a time.

Haechan smiles at the thought of her. If only Y/N knew that he was doing this for her, for them. Oh, by no means are they a couple – no matter how much he wishes they were – but the two were lab partners in chemistry during sophomore year. It was then that Haechan had promised to woo the black-haired girl, right after he'd accidentally set her hair on fire. Y/N hadn't been hurt, thank God for that, but the tips of her hair had been singed and that made her rather irritable. Consequently, Haechan received a verbal lashing from her that he'd never experienced before – not even when he had accidentally broken her arm while they were playing baseball in gym or when he accidentally slammed her finger into his car door.

Snapping out of his trance, Haechan checks the clock. It's 1:45am. Y/N will probably be asleep by now, but he needs to get the list to her. Now if only he could write it. He's sure that she will love it, or more preferably him when he gives it to her.

It's inconceivable how she won't, for it'll be the product of hours of hard work and thinking. And he means hard. It's not every day that Haechan sits himself down to write a list of reasons why he would be a suitable boyfriend. Granted, the list will only have ten bullet points, but it's rather arduous to pick only ten of his most wonderful attributes. They're copious, really, and it's a wonder that Y/N hasn't fallen for him yet when he can barely go a minute without wanting to see her.

The girl has him wrapped around her finger, and she doesn't even know it. Damn her.

Haechan refocuses on the list. He needs to get it to her before Mark, the new transfer student from Canada, gets to Y/N. He'd heard him talking about inviting her on a date with him to his friends in the locker room after gym. Not that Haechan feels threatened. After all, everyone in the school knows that he is so much better then Mark. There's a reason why the girls fawn over him rather than Mark, and it isn't just because of his good looks. Haechan usually brushes them off though, because their mindless groping doesn't even have a fraction of the effect it does when it comes from Y/N – if it came from Y/N. She's never d him before, though he's made it clear that it perfectly ok, more than ok, actually.

Looking down at the paper, he notices that it's still blank. Completely. At this rate he'll never finish. So Haechan thinks as hard as he can, pulling out the first ten reasons why Y/N should love him that come to mind. He writes as neatly as he possibly can, even though it still comes out in a dreadfully messy scrawl.

When he's finished, he gives it a good long look. It really isn't his best work, but it's going to have to do. He ran out of paper and it's nearly 2 in the morning. With a satisfied sigh, Haechan walks quietly out of his room and out of the house, not wanting to wake his little sister. She's only six and has ballet in the morning. When Haechan gets to his car, he breathes another sigh, but in relief instead of satisfaction. No one woke up, which means that he's free and clear. Gunning the engine of his car, Haechan pulls out of his driveway and into the street.

Y/N's house isn't far away. He could walk if he wanted to, but he's far too tired. It is 2 in the morning after all. When he sees the ugly mailbox that seems out of place in the nice yard, he knows it's Y/N's house. Besides knowing her address, he remembers her telling him about how her mailbox always seemed to get run over when it wasn't the green monstrosity her mom had so tirelessly tried to get rid of.

Haechan parks on the side of the road and walks out of his car, list and rose in hand. Somehow, he feels more alive than he did before, a feeling he often gets when he knows that Y/N is near.

He's planned out this night for a week. He'll climb up to her balcony and knock on her window. He'll wait for her to come out. As she reads the list, maybe she'll smile or smack him in the head. When she's done, he'll flash his trademark smile at her and lean in for a kiss. She'll meet him halfway and close the distance.

The thought of it scares him, though, and he has absolutely no idea why. Haechan's kissed tons of girls, but inserting Y/N into the picture turns everything around, and suddenly he's frozen to the spot.

Haechan looks down at the rose and list. The rose is slightly droopy from being lugged around by him. The list in an envelope addressed to Y/N. It's not spectacular or wonderful – just a plain white envelope. It's nothing close to what she deserves. Maybe she should be with Mark instead. He's not the smartest or most handsome guy out there, but Haechan figures he'll have more to offer. Mark won't annoy her like Haechan does or cause her as many injuries.

What was he thinking, that he deserved someone as amazing as Y/N? She's their senior vice president and captain of the girls' volleyball team. She's beautiful and smart and kind and wonderful and it kills him. Even her flaws are endearing, like the fact that she can't seem to shut up during a movie and always forgets something, whether it be her house keys or her phone. Like how she'll never ask for help, even when she needs it, or can't seem to express her emotions clearly. The way she's been in the hospital more than any person he knows. Granted, he caused at least three-fourths of those injuries, but still.

With a bitter laugh, Haechan flings the rose and list on the ground and makes his retreat back into his car. What was he thinking, really?

                                                      ...............................

Y/N's been up all night, tossing and turning in her bed. She abandoned sleeping around one and a half hours ago. Now it's 2:15 am. She'll probably crash in another two hours. That's when she usually falls asleep.

Y/N has insomnia, a fact that's strictly in her family. It started after she watched her first horror movie in the sixth grade. Though she usually can't stop talking, that movie stunned her into silence. She'd been afraid to fall asleep for weeks, but eventually she'd slip under in the wee hours of the morning. Going to her mother could have helped, but Y/N's far too proud for that. She doesn't want to feel like she owes anyone anything so she just doesn't ask.

But after two months of not being able to sleep regularly, Y/N's mom took her to the doctor. It was there that he prescribed the pills to her and told her some tricks for sleeping. She doesn't take the pills, as they didn't really help when she did. Counting doesn't really help, but looking out the window does. More often than not she's fallen asleep leaned against a wall or chair facing outside. The sheer stillness and complete tranquility help put her to sleep, as not much happens this early in the morning.

But today is an exception. Y/N watches with interest as someone gets out of his car and stands facing her house. It's Haechan. She'd recognize the roar of his car anywhere. It's mostly because it's so loud – similar to the driver – but he's insisted on driving her so many places that it'