Let’s take a deep breath and get under his skin, into his shoes. Okay. We’re both, now, Ok Taecyeon, the infamous ice-carver. We have his short curly brown hair, his midnight blue eyes, his small hands and slender fingers and well.. you’ve got the idea. We have everything he has. I thought it was easier to see things from his point of view. Not to hear the story, but to watch it. So, let’s close our eyes and open Taecyeon’s charcoal mirrors.

21st of September, a cloudy and rainy day, cold wind barely blowing, people running in a hurry, trying to find shelter. Life in the big cities, we’re very accustomed to that. Fortunately, we are inside, protected by all the city’s filthy routine. Our small apartment is warm and clean. Just us,  me and you-inside of Taecyeon-which is comfortably sitting on the sofa in the living-room, sketching something on a notebook, smiling when the coffee scent mixed with her unique spring flowers perfume tickles his nostrils. Her. You may want to know who she is. No, she isn’t his wife, nor his fiancée, nor his girlfriend. She is his so called sister from another mother, Taeyeon. Taeng, for him, or for us. A petite lady, fragile, naïve and childish, who chose her career perfectly. It seems that being ballerina is not a career for anybody to follow. It is only for her. In her eyes you can read her endless will to protect what she loves. Funny, she is the one who needs protection. She loves him, but not the way he loves her. She is sure of it. They live together since they are both orphans, with nothing to hold on but each other.

So, as Taeng approaches, small china cup filled with deliciously smelling coffee in hand, he buries his smile under a concentrated frown. And when the female silhouette asks him what he is working at, he merely growls, taking the cup from her hand. A tear glows in her eyes, but she doesn’t cry. Taeng  is getting used to it. Days go on like that, with him treating her brusquely and with her saying nothing about it.

1st of December- the petite figure of Kim Taeyeon lies motionless on the icy ground, blood rivulets travelling down her forehead. Melancholic grey eyes stare in awe at the sky. No tears glow in her