Dara's POV

 

 

Waking up with a pounding headache was bad enough. Waking up in someone else's bed? Now that was worse. 

 

I knew it wasn't mine from the scent alone. My bedsheets had a flowery smell to it, not a musky odor of the male variety. Another giveaway was the ceiling. A hundred glow-in-the-dark stars were plastered all over my old room, the very same one I've begrudgingly surrendered when our esteemed guest had moved in.

 

Speaking of, where was he?

 

Clutching my head, I slowly sat up on the bed with a groan. The last thing I remember was getting dragged up the stairs, everything from that point onwards was a blur. I leaned forward on my knees and took a deep breath, hoping that the room wouldn't spin so much. It had never been my plan to actually get drunk, but the more I did, the more I felt better. One sip turned to another and now I'm paying for it.

 

As I swept my gaze around the room, I caught sight of a piece of paper on the bedside table. A bottle of water and a single Tylenol was laid on top of it. I picked the letter up. 

 

Serves you right for getting drunk. Take this and sober up. You owe me one. 

 

P.S. You snore like a bear. 

 

                                   -J

 

My face immediately flushed with embarrassment as I crumpled the paper in my hand. That jerk! Why couldn't he be nice for once? It was kind of him to leave a hangover pill for me. I just wish he could've done it without being a complete bastard. Was he scared I'd fall for his charms?

 

The thought alone was hilarious. I'd sooner eat cow poop than fall in love with him. 

 

Chugging some water to push the medicine down, I stood up from the bed and decided that it would be best to take a shower in my room. I'm sure I look like a mess right now. I certainly felt like one. I was almost to the door when I noticed something move from my peripheral vision. I whirled around and instantly choked.

 

The door to the bathroom was wide open and there stood Jiyong himself, one hand on the sink while the other brushed his teeth. His hair was damp from the shower, the strands falling over his eyes as he leaned forward to check his reflection. It wasn't because he had an obvious dislike for locked doors that I couldn't avert my gaze, it was because of the fact that he was half- with only a towel hanging loosely around his waist. It's not the first time I've seen him in this state of undress considering we'd practically meet in a more or less similar situation. Difference was that, I'd hit him with a bar of soap before I could even take so much as a glimpse.

 

My eyes trailed downward on their own accord and I stopped myself from openly gaping at the sheer number of tattoos he had on his body. I mean, I knew he was inked. The angel wings covered most of his nape, after all. I just hadn't expected it to be this many and to look so...enticing on him. I say this in a completely objective kind of way, mind you. I also definitely didn't notice he had abs. Like, for real. Looks like he managed to hide it well underneath those bulky winter clothes. 

 

He rinsed his mouth with water, spit the remaining toothpaste on the sink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

 

"Enjoying the view, are we?" Jiyong suddenly said, his eyes never leaving the mirror as an amused smirk spread across his face.

 

I knew it. He was totally aware I'd been staring. He just pretended to be oblivious so he could rub it in my face. The bastard.

 

"Pssh, don't flatter yourself. I was just—"

 

His smile continued to grow as he turned around and languidly leaned on the bathroom door. "Checking me out? Ogling my body?" He looked utterly pleased with himself as I slowly turned into the complexion of a ripe tomato in front of him. "Better take a picture, ahjumma. It'll last longer."  

 

"I wasn't checking you out!" He gave me a dubious look. "I wasn't! Y-you're not..." He took a step forward. "I—" Another step. "Stop doing that!" 

 

He blinked innocently. "Stop doing what?"

 

Stalking me like a tiger on a hunt. I continued to scramble backward when my foot hit the door. 

 

Naturally, Jiyong noticed this too. With a lopsided grin, he closed the distance between us, placing an arm on either side of my head and efficiently trapping me. I tried not to squirm. Tried not to breathe either. He was close enough that I could smell his aftershave and the shampoo he used. Pomegranate, if I'm not mistaken.

 

He leaned down until I could feel his breath fanning my cheek. "Am I affecting you, Santokki?" He whispered in a low voice, his cold lips grazing my ear. I involuntarily shivered. "Do I make your heart flutter?"

 

He's certainly making my blood boil. I'm sure it's because he's crowding my personal space and not because I feel self-conscious with how my breath smells right now. The self-defense I was taught when I was little came to my mind and I'm tempted to use it on him. The only thing stopping me from executing my plan was Jiyong's clothing—or lack thereof. I'm left with no other choice then.

 

'The best defense is always a good offense.'

 

Mustering my courage, I raised my hand and gently placed it on his chest. I felt him momentarily flinch under my touch. Damn, his pecs was solid, I'll give him that. 

 

"If I say yes, what will you do?" I all but purred. I'm surprised I haven't died and descended to hell for this embarrassingly provocative behavior. I'm internally cringing right now. That of course didn't stop me from moving my finger down to trace the 'XX' tattoo he had above his navel.

 

Why the heck did he get this one? It looked so much like an emoji to me. What a weird bloke.

 

Jiyong pulled back and I could literally hear the wheels in his mind turn. When I tilted my chin up to glance at him, I almost wished I hadn't. He was looking at me darkly, his eyes hooded as he stared into my own. 

 

"Do you really wanna know?" He said in barely above a whisper. 

 

Mint. His breath smelled like peppermint. He lifted his hand and gently ran his thumb over my lower lip, his gaze following its movement as if he's trying to commit it to memory. 

 

"So what will it be?" he softly murmured. He dipped his head lower, his thumb unrelenting in its caresses which had now moved to cup the side of my cheek. I had an itching feeling that this was not how it's supposed to go, but my body didn't take the hint. All I could do was stare back at him as he moved closer and closer...

 

"Hyung!! Noona!! Breakfast is ready!!"

 

Mino's booming voice slammed propriety back into my head like an angry bulldozer about to demolish a building. It felt like I was doused with ice cold water at the sudden realization of what could've happened—what I almost allowed to happen. 

 

I forcefully pushed Jiyong backward and quickly opened the door. The last thing I saw was his equally dazed expression before I scrambled out into the safety of my own room. 

 

 

        ****

 

"Is it an angel?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"The tattoo on your neck. Is that an angel?"

 

We were currently sitting cross-legged at the back of the truck, the morning's events seemingly forgotten. It was about four in the afternoon and Jae Suk suddenly had the urge to take us out to eat some of his favorite sweet potatoes. They were huddled around the vendor's stall by the side of the road while the two of us waited.

 

"Yep," replied Jiyong. He stretched his legs in front of him as he leaned back on his hands.

 

Playing with the loose string of my sweater, I asked him why.

 

"What do you mean why?"

 

"Why an angel?"

 

He shrugged. "Why not?"

 

I raised my head to look at the horizon. "I'm just thinking there must be a story in there somewhere." We fell into a comfortable silence for a while and just listened to the rustling of branches around us. Signs of Spring had begun and it felt nice to be outside soaking on the sun.

 

"Go."

 

My lids fluttered open and I turned my head a fraction to find him looking at me.

 

"I know you're dying to know how many tattoos I have on my body so go on. Ask me."

 

"I wouldn't go so far as dying to know that," I scoffed. My brows furrowed and I returned my gaze to the loose thread on my lap. "But just for the sole purpose of killing time, how many tattoos do you have?"

 

"Twenty," he proudly answered.

 

I looked up in surprise. "Twenty?!"

 

"Why do you sound so shocked?" He asked, giving me a lopsided grin.

 

My brows furrowed as I told him, "Are you trying to reach a quota or something?"

 

He laughed, his eyes donning a faraway look while remembering a particularly happy memory. "You know my mom once told me that if I keep adding tattoos I'd eventually look like a beggar."

 

"She does have a point." Lifting my forearm, I raised it in the air and turned it over to trace the inside of my wrist. "You know, I wanted to get a tattoo when I was younger."

"And?"

 

I shrugged. "Well obviously it never happened."

 

"Why?" He raised a brow and sent me a cocky look to egg me on. "Scared of needles?"

 

I let out a choked laugh. If only he knew what I've been through the past year. Being pricked and prodded more times than you could count can make you numb. Needles were the last thing I was afraid of. After all, pain was the only constant thing in my life right now.

 

"No," I decided to say. There's no reason to scare him off with the truth about my family. It never ends well for anyone. "Not as much as getting caught."

 

"So Mommy didn't want her princess to get inked?"

 

"I wouldn't really know," came my indifferent reply. "She left before I even understood what a tattoo was." 

 

Jiyong hesitantly glanced at me, pity evident in his brown eyes. "Sorry," he spoke with fervent sympathy. 

 

I waved it off. No sense in grieving for what's already lost. Besides, I don't need anyone's pity. 

 

"Is that why you've never mentioned her?"

 

"It never came up. And you never asked."

 

He crossed his arms. "Would you have answered me if I did?"

 

"Probably not," I told him honestly.

 

"Exactly."

 

"Dara! GD!"

 

We both turned to look at Jae Suk waving from the stall.

 

"Food's ready!"

 

Jiyong lithely jumped from the truck while I clambered down after him. When I looked up, he had his one hand on his pocket while the other one was stretched toward me.

 

"What?" I frowned.

 

"Geez," he muttered in annoyance and shot a bored look my way. "I'm not gonna hold your hand if that's what you think. You just make for a really good cane and I kinda need one right now."

 

I rolled my eyes. "You're impossible." I shoved him roughly on the back so he'd start walking. 

 

He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. "You're seriously not going to walk beside me?"

 

"Marriage Road," I simply stated, poking his back again when he started to walk slower.

 

"The what road?"

 

"Marriage Road," I repeated with a scoff. Deep down I've always thought it was dumb to call it that. "Every Spring, this place turns into some kind of paradise because of the beautiful white cherry blossoms. Legend says that if a couple walks down this road without letting go of each other until they pass through the Arch of Venus, then they will be together forever." 

 

"Arch of Venus?"

 

I pointed to the two white pillars at the end of the road. 

 

"Wow." Jiyong muttered. "That's just—" 

 

"Crazy, right?" 

 

"I was going to say romantic," he said with a raised brow. "But that's just me." Then he suddenly stopped. I almost barreled right into him. He turned around, his forehead creasing. 

 

What now?

 

"You didn't want to walk with me because of that? Are you.." He crossed his hands over his chest as if to protect himself, his mouth opening into an exaggerated 'o.'

 

"Do you fancy me?"

 

Of all the ridiculous things...I held back the laugh that was threatening to escape my mouth as I pretended to sigh. "Yes."

 

His face was a mix of disbelief and panic. 

 

"Relax, superstar. I'm only kidding." I punched him in the shoulder and laughed. "It's pointless anyway. We'd have to be lovers for it to work and we both know where we stand at that." Jiyong looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, looking straight ahead instead. Weird.

 

"Anyway, it's just an old man's tale. Probably something they've made up to attract tourists like you."

 

He was now walking beside me, hands on his pocket. "Does that mean you've never taken someone here?"

 

"Mmm?"

 

"You know...someone special?"

 

I easily shook my head. 

 

"Not even the dude from the concert?" He prodded and linked his hands together on the back of his head in a noncommittal manner. "Hae-In, wasn't it?"

 

I stared at him, partly in disbelief that he would be able to remember a name that I mentioned in passing and slight awe that he actually did. I guess there was a bit of truth behind the 'genius' title he kept parading around. 

 

"So did you two do the walk? Or were you too chicken to confess your feelings for him?" There was a sliver of amusement in his voice.

 

"There's nothing to confess," I shot back with a scowl, "Growing up, Hae-in and I lived next to each other so it's only natural that we hang out with the same circle of friends. He's an old acquaintance. Besides, what you're implying sounds bogus to me."

 

"You and him as a couple or you and him walking down the marriage road?"

 

"Both," I curtly replied, hoping he'd let it go. As per usual, I was wrong.

 

"He seems like an okay guy."

 

"He is."

 

"And a director to boot, too."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"You should date him."

 

"You should mind your own business," I spat out before reaching the food stall. Jae Suk handed me a sweet potato—already peeled—as I glanced over the rest of the guys who were eating by the curb.

 

"I'm just saying," Jiyong murmured in a low voice as he started blowing on the potato Jae Suk passed to him. "With a temper like yours, a guy like that would be hard to come by."

 

"I'm flattered that you care so much about my personal life, but if there's anyone here who needs to sort things out, it's you." I took a huge bite off of my potato and chewed, imagining with delight that it was Jiyong's fingers I'm munching on. "I thought you were writing that music thing."

 

"I am," He grumbled before swallowing the rest of his food. Pulling the small notebook from his jacket, he handed me the pages where he'd managed to scribble a few lines, most of which were crossed out and covered with doodle.

 

I tilted my head, pondering over each word he'd written. "It's not that bad," I decided.

 

"It's not that good either." He ran a hand over his face wearily, the impending departure from his temporary respite putting a toll on both his physical and mental health. "I need to double my efforts."

 

"Nope," I said jovially, handing the notebook back to him. "What you need is a break."

 

Jiyong looked at me like I just grew horns. "I haven't done anything yet and you want me to take a break?"

 

I shrugged. "All great achievements require time."

 

He grimaced. "Well I'm on a tight schedule."

 

I laughed at his worries and how petty they were. "Good music doesn't have an expiration date, your highness. And it certainly doesn't happen by force."

 

He crossed his arms and challenged me with a look. "And pray tell how does it happen?"

 

"Simple," I told him and tapped my ear. "You listen."

 

 

GD's POV

 

Listen? Listen to what?

 

Listen to President Yang's constant questions about my progress? To Tae Hee's insane repertoire of threats, nagging, and the whole secondary conscience? Or to Seungri's frequent calls inquiring about my supposed conquests? 

 

At this point, my ears are going to disengage itself from my head with all the listening I'm doing.

 

"That's not the same thing," she said, her wild hair hitting my neck as we huddled together at the back of the truck. I glanced around in vain attempt to escape the monstrous being attached to her scalp, but there was no space for me to move. 

 

"Can you tie your hair? It's going everywhere."

 

"Can't."

 

I frowned. "What do you mean, you can't?" 

 

"I don't have a hair tie," she answered simply. 

 

For the love of— "Turn a bit."

 

She frowned. "Why?"

 

"Just do it," I berated her. Luckily, she obliged after giving me a glare. I removed one of my shoelaces and using my fingers, gently brushed her hair into a low ponytail, looping the shoelace over and over until I was able to form a ribbon. The aglets that dangled at each end whipped back and forth in the wind. "There," I nodded, quite pleased with my hairstyling skills all thanks to the endless hours sitting in front of the vanity mirror over the years. "That's much better."

 

*Click*

 

We both turned to see Mino holding a disposable camera, his expression that of a kid caught with his hand on a candy jar.

 

"What? Documentation purposes for personal viewing only, I assure you," he grinned mischievously and tucked the camera inside his pocket before Dong-Gil could reach out to confiscate it.

 

Shaking my head, I returned to looking out the road, finally at peace without Dara's hair smothering me every few seconds. The serenity of my thoughts remained unperturbed until the familiar cobblestone path came into view. We were almost home. My lips slowly spread into a smile.

 

Home. 

 

I don't really know when I started calling the old shack home, but now that I think about it, I guess it has a nice ring to it. Pondering over it for just a few moments, I whirled around to ask her the question that's been nagging me since the day we shared our first dinner. "How do you manage to find joy in such a simple life?"

 

Dara turned her head to look at me, her gaze one of contemplation. After a heartbeat, she went, "You're asking the wrong question."

 

I swear to God, she says the most cryptic things. 

 

"Let me ask you this," she continued, dutifully ignoring my baffled expression. "Are you happy?"

 

"Of course," my reply was instantaneous.

 

"Why?"

 

That drew me to a stop. Why? Mmmm... "I have everything I want."

 

Her face remained impassive and I'm dying to know what's going on in that brain of hers. "And having everything gives you contentment?" Her voice didn't hold any judgment, only curiosity.

 

Was this some sort of test? Coz I feel like she's testing me. And I hate the fact that in some convoluted way, I kind of want her approval. "Y-yes?" My answer sounded more of a question.

 

She methodically nodded which of course only pushed me over the edge. The truck skidded to a stop and Dara immediately pushed open the tailgate and jumped down with ease. "See, that's what makes it hard for me to believe you."

 

"It's true though," I told her as I did the same. "I've got everything any person could ask for. How can I not be happy?" Even my conscience seemed to balk with my own words. 

 

Dara's steps halted. Turning at the waist, she pointed her index finger at me. "Now that's the real question." She pulled the makeshift tie, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she handed me my shoelace. I took it from her, a frown on my face. 

 

"I'm happy," I insisted with less conviction.

 

She gave a small and equally sad smile. "You wouldn't be here if you were." With one last pensive look at my direction, she turned and headed for the door.

 

Later that night, at exactly 11:11 in the evening, after having my fourth sip of Dara's green tea, I grabbed the old battered notebook and started writing.

 

When I used to be happy
despite having nothing...
 

It seems like only yesterday
 

I think I’ve come too far,

I can’t remember...

Everything is a first so I’m lost clumsy
And I’m happy excited
Memories of the past
Still feel like a dream...

 

I don’t know where I’m going now...

 

The melody enters my head. I hear it in the wind. 

 

'Listen.'

 

And so I did.