She waits in front of the school gates with her small hands curled around the straps of her backpack.  The winter storm scratches her cheeks, turning them bright pink like lotus buns.  She sneezes and sniffles back her runny nose.      

A lady wearing glasses kneels down beside her and offers her a lollipop, “Is your Mommy not here yet? 

The little girl hangs her head low and shakes it. 

“That’s alright, Sweetie.  Do you want to wait inside?  It’s a lot warmer in the classroom,” the young lady ruffles her hair. 

But the little girl just shakes her head again.

“Okay, Teacher-nim will wait with you then,” the young woman suggests.

She sits down on the nearby bench and pats the empty spot for the little girl to join.  To her disappointment, the girl takes a few steps away from her.  So she gets back up on her feet and jogs into the school building. 

The little girl pouts and kicks the pebbles at her feet.

“Mommy,” she calls but only the whistle of the wind replies to her.

A moment later the same young woman comes back and squats down to the girl’s level.  She holds out a glass jar and shakes it making the colorful paper stars move up and down as if they were dancing.  The little girl reaches for the jar thinking they are fairy crystals.

“Do you want me to teach you how to fold them?” she takes a few paper strips from her pockets.

Though her head still hangs low, a miniscule smile creeps onto her lips, and the little girl shyly nods.  But just as the young teacher takes the girl’s hand, an older woman shows up.  She grabs the child roughly by the arm and tugs her away.    

The teacher is taken aback, a look of pity spreads across her face.

“It’s okay, Sweetie.  I’ll teach you tomorrow.  You can keep these though,” she promises and hands the little girl the jar of stars.

On the way home, her mother rips the jar from the girl’s arms and throws it to the ground, “Stupid Girl, how many times have I told you not to accept things people offer.  Do you want others to think we are beggars?”

The little girl starts to cry and kneels down to collect the stars.  The glass shards cut into her hands.     

You sat up straight on your bed with your mouth agape.  Beads of sweat trickled down your neck as you huffed and puffed for air.  Your hands felt as if thousands of needles pricked at your fingertips all at once. 

“What’s the matter?” Sehun’s half-awake voice inquired. 

With one eye opened, he reached for the digital clock to check the time.  When you do not respond, he tapped your shoulder.  The sudden touch caused you to jerk back.

Don’t breathe.   

it in. 

Your fists clenched together.

We aren’t beggars.

Sitting up on the bed as well, Sehun molded his palm along the small of your back.  His hand scorches against your cold skin.  You exhale.       

“Nothing.  Just a nightmare,” you reassured, a bit flustered and embarrassed.

Immediately, the vanity lamp clicked on.  The soft glow of the light created a halo on the bed sheets.  A set of large hands rested on yours as the owner examined your current shaken form.  Softly, he your cheeks, wiping away the cold sweat that had collected beneath your chin.  Under his pampering, the invisible needles gradually ceased its torment on your fingers.  Your shoulders slumped backward as you collided into his embrace.        

“Everything’s fine.  It’s just a dream,” he coaxed, “let’s go back to sleep.” 

With his arm still wrapped around your waist, you both fell back onto the bed.  Like a programmed machine, he continued to pat your back until the rhythmic melody calmed you to slumber.        

——

When you reawaken, the sweet aroma of goguma-bap ran up your nose.  Your arms stretched out and you covered your yawning lips with a drumming motion.  Skipping happily to the kitchen, you spotted Sehun hard at work.  A set of dishes lined the dinner table.    

“Good morning,” you greeted Sehun. 

He returned your greeting with one of the cheesiest smiles you had ever seen appear on his handsome face.  You hit his chest playfully and leaned forward to inhale the fragrance of his culinary artwork. 

“Chef Oh Sehun-ssi, today must be a holiday for you to show up,” you teased.

There was a reason why both of you were extremely giddy.  Today, Sehun’s busy schedule finally opened up and allowed him quality time to accompany you to a baby’s appointment.

Your heart fluttered seeing the fully-grown man skip about the room as if he was in a meadow of flowers. 

“Mmmm,” you your lips when Sehun served a plate of food. 

He pinched your nose, spun around in circles gleefully, and then placed his own plate on the table, like a waiter. 

“Ma’am, would you like a drink with that?” he asked in what he thought was a British accent while his invisible mustache. 

You giggled, “Yes, Chef-nim.” 

The meal tasted especially sweet as it melted into the valleys of your tongue.  Sitting across from Sehun, you witnessed his eyes sparkling like a star in the night sky – so vibrant and magical.  When you’re done slurping up the goguma-bap, the two of you enthusiastically left for the doctor’s appointment. 

At the waiting room, flashbacks of the first time you were here, desperate and alone, crowded your mind. Words could not describe how lucky and grateful you felt now that Sehun was here to accompany you. You rubbed your belly and sat a little closer to the man beside you. 

You found yourself staring at him again, captivated by his suave appearance.  His milky skin glowed under the florescent lights.  His hair was silky smooth making you want to run your fingers through it.  Sehun turned around, catching you in the act of daydreaming.  Shyly, you turned away but glancing from the side, you witnessed the corners of his lips curved upward. 

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, placing your head on his shoulders as you closed your eyes.       

Chuckling, Sehun wrapped an arm around you.  The fast beating of his heart echoed in your ears and you internally melted knowing how excited he was to see the baby.     

The doctor ran a few tests on you while Sehun stood at your side, his hand linked with yours.  The mere mentioning of an ultrasound caused his grip on your hand to tighten.  Giggling foolishly, your thumb his to try to calm his nerves down.  When the sonogram appeared on the monitor screen, he unconsciously stepped closer to observe.

“That’s my baby?” he blankly asked the doctor.

“Yes.  You see that’s the head,” she pointed to a round mass, “and those are the hands and the feet.”

Abruptly, a thumping noise, much louder this time, commenced.  You took a peek at Sehun.  His eyes turned glossy and as if it was contagious, your eyes welled up as well.  You tugged on his hand a bit to call for his attention.  Instantly, he spun around, leaned over, and kissed you on the lips.  A hot flushing sensation preoccupied your cheeks.     

The doctor cleared and asked, “At seventeen weeks, we usually can tell the gender of your baby.  Would you like to know if it’s a girl or boy?”

Sehun and you exchanged glances and as if you two knew telepathy, the both of you responded, in unison, “No, we want it as a surprise.” 

On the way to the car, Sehun admired the sonogram almost a little too much.  He stuffed your intertwined hands into his coat pocket and with his other hand, he held the picture up to the sky.      

“I think the baby looks like me,” he concluded dramatically. <