I gently sat on the old, rubber seat of the swing and wrapped my fingers around the rusted chains as I used my feet to push the contraption into motion. It's surprising how much bigger I feel on this swingset. When I was still a child, Jessica and I came here often to play with the neighborhood kids. I was always one of the maknaes of the group, and Sica, being almost four years older than me, was one of the bigger kids. She's always been beautiful, mind you. She's not like one of those fairy tale characters that are ignored and unappreciated when they are younger and then magically transform into beauteous princesses when a fairy godmother appears. Jessica's always been the talk of the town, the cute little girl that's adored by everyone in this neighborhood. Even when she was only of age eleven, all of the little boys were at her feet. They always shared a little of their lunches with her at school and invited her for birthday parties and family outings. Whenever they'd spot Jessica at the park from their little windows, they'd rush over immediately and play with her. They'd fight over who'd get to push her on the swingset and who'd get to watch her while she plays on the monkey bars in case she fell and got hurt.

As for me, I only liked playing on the swingsets. Whenever I'd pump my legs hard enough, the swing would go high, making it feel as if I was flying, soaring. It was hard on my little body, and it exhausted me. But to feel the wind against my skin, to get a glimpse of the scenery from above rather than below like I always have, it was worth it. I always had trouble getting onto the swing though. I wasn't like Jessica, who had multiple boys trying to help her sit on the seat of the swing even though she was big and much capable of doing so on her own. No one had really rushed to help me whenever I used the swingset, even if I was the smallest one there. It was as much of a battle to get off the swing as it was to get on. I'd always have to jump to get off, and once, I even sprained my ankle doing so. I was too afraid to tell my parents because I thought they wouldn't let me play on the swings anymore, so Jessica snitched on me because (she said) "it will only get worse if Umma and Appa don't know."

But now, sitting on the very same swing that I fell in love with as a child, it seems so much smaller. It fascinated me, actually. Time flies by so fast when you don't realize it. I can't remember what caused Jessica and me to stop coming here so often, but I would have never guessed that the next time I sit on this swing, I'd be way too big for it. How it became to be such a big gap between my childhood and my present, I don't know. It seems quite impossible that so much time has passed. If I think hard enough, I will probably be able to remember all the events that happened in the last few years, which aren't very exciting. I wake up, go to school, get home, maybe excercise a little to avoid fat jokes from my parents, eat, sleep, repeat. It was a repitition cycle, nothing really changes. But how come when I look back on it, nothing is really the same, either?

"Haven't seen you around here much," a voice beside me commented, almost scaring the daily lights out of me, "what made you come today?"

My head jerked to the side, meeting eyes with him. "Oh-Luhan. . . "

"Hm . . . ?" He was seated on another swing beside me, his face turned towards the dimmed evening sky. I have never thought of Xi Luhan as the sly and cunning type, maybe quiet for his own good, but how he came to sit right beside me on another swing without me knowing is a mystery to me. Maybe I was in another one of my daydreams again, lost in my thoughts like how I usually am when I'm sure that I'm alone.

"What're you doing here?" The question, I assumed, came out with more bitterness than I intended.

"I asked you first," he retorted quickly, completely unfazed.

"I got lonely," I admitted, not finding a good reason to lie.

"And you came here with . . . ?"

"My memories," I replied curtly, yet in full honesty.

"They keep you company?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." 

Silence enveloped us afterwards, a comfortable kind of silence though. Maybe it was because we didn't have much to say, and even if we did, there wouldn't be much we'd be interested in sharing. Though there are many things I have yet to discuss with him, there was no courage to voice my thoughts. It's funny how distanced two people seem even when they're sitting right next to each other. It's as if there was a wide, open field between us, a field filled with emotion and unsaid words. Yes, it was comfortable, but maybe it was because it didn't seem as if we were next to each other. It seemed as if we were functioning in two different universes, cutting off any connection with each other. The thought was sad to me, how we were already practically family, but we were so far from each other in so many ways. It pained me, actually. But I knew I was taking everything for granted. I already had him here, with me, even if it was only a coincidental meet at the neighborhood park. As long as we had this one moment to ourselves, not Jessica or our families, but ourselves, I might as well enjoy it. Life hasn't always been kind to me, so who am I to be ungrateful when it gives me an opportunity like this? I shouldn't be thinking about how distant we are on an emotional level, I shouldn't be thinking about what I want instead of what I have, I shouldn't be thinking about my feelings. . . It's funny how humans are like this. We always think about what we don't have instead of what we do have, worry about the things that could never be instead of the things that are, wishing for opportunities that could never happen when there are chances for other beautiful things right before our eyes. I've never categorized myself as a regular person. Though I believe I've been degraded and undermined many times in my life, I've never actually considered myself to be normal. I was better than that, I knew. Normal teenagers worried about fashion, electronics, things of that sort. They worry too much of the present, and not enough of what comes after that. They always ask for something new after being given what they previously wanted. Me, I've always been the type to strive for one thing at a time. Whenever I am granted something, though it is not exactly what I want, I am still grateful. I don't care about the things that are always changing, like clothes and cell phones. I know that you can never be satisfied with things like that. There will always be new models, new brands, new clothes, new electronics. It's better to worry about the constant things, the things that will always need to be worried about, such as money and education.

But this time, just this once, I want more than what I am given. I want him. I want Luhan. I already have him, in a way, on the physical. . . I've had a lot of things on a physical level. I've always had two parents that provided well for me. I've had a roof to live under, a bed to sleep in. There's never been a spoonful of food missing from my plate, and I've been attending one of the most academically advanced high schools in all of Seoul. That's why this feeling is so new to me, unfamiliar and almost bizarre. The Xi family is close with my family. We keep in contact every day, and with the wedding coming up, we're very much communicating almost every minute in an hour, planning on the ceremonies. I can talk to Luhan, I can look at Luhan, I can touch Luhan (though I would not dare to in case I won't be able to let go. . . ). But I crave for so much more than that. I don't know when it happened within these past few days, but I've stopped denying it. I've stopped lying, at least to myself, that I could go a day without thinking about him, his bronze hair, his large eyes, his shy smile. . . Though I haven't stopped resisting the urge to be with him, I know that I've accepted my own feelings for him. No, I don't resent Xi Luhan as much as I show, and I don't despise him as much as I lead on. I like him, and maybeIcouldevensaythatIpossiblylove him (if I even know what love feels like). That is where I have trouble, where I start to lose control, where I start to ask for too much. Because I know I am only considered a friend to him, more or less. And that's what kills.

You see? Ungratefulness. That's what makes me want too much, that's what makes me crave for something I can never reach. Luhan is right next to me, merely a few feet away on a swingset that seems way too small for the both of us, but he will never be on the same emotional level as I am. The feelings that I carry, I know he'll never be able to feel, let alone show. For him to be a part of my family, for him to be near me, that should be enough. But it's not, and I wish I could change that.

"So. . . " he started shakily, breaking me out of my daydream once more. "I'm sorry."

His apology surprised me. Not because I find it that a proud man like him would feel the need to say such words, but because I didn't know of his wrongdoing in the first place. "For what?" I was sure I was giving him my stupid "deer in the headlights" look, but I was too curious to care at the moment.

"For the other day in Miss Kim's class. I was rather bitter to you."

I let a half-hearted chuckle escape my lips, leveling my gaze to the woodchips at our feet. "Shouldn't I be the one to apologize?" I sighed. "I didn't mean to reject you, I really did want to work by myself."

"Right," he sarcastically said with some humor, as if to make me laugh.

"I'm serious," I played along, looking at him in what I considered a friendly way. We both chuckled a little, as if it was some funny joke. "I feel as if I should take the blame."

"You should." Now THAT is what surprised me.

"Then why did you apologize?" I accused, suddenly defensive of my own pride.

He sighed and looked up at the sky again. "Because you wouldn't talk to me if I hadn't."

I smiled bitterly, finding irony written all over his words. "It's not as if you'd talk to me even if we weren't upset with each other. . . "

There was a pause before his next sentence came out. His voice was much louder than I'd expected, unwavering and sure of himself. "But at least you'd acknowledge me, YoonA. After what happened that day, you wouldn't even look at me, or show any signs that you were aware of my presence."

I stared at my feet once more, feeling guilty and light-hearted at the same time. I'd made him feel bad, the exact opposite of what I'd intended to do. I was avoiding him, his gaze, his presence, for his own sake. I'd thought that he had hated me after the incident in Miss Kim's class, so I assumed I'd be saving him trouble by just not acknowledging him. But it was also a guiltily proud feeling that broke loose in the depths of my heart, because even if I had not made him feel the way I'd wanted him to, at least I made him feel.

"I didn't want you to avoid me," he continued, "it bothers me, to know that you don't look at me." Luhan is the second person in my life to care, or show any care at least, about my silence (the first person is Jessica). It is usually when I talk too much that my parents get upset with me. . . It is when I ask too much of them, or when I try too hard to get their attention, that they become bothered and annoyed. But for Luhan, it was my silence that reached out to him, when I disregard him and neglect his presence that he notices me. I inwardly thanked him for that.

After that, we were overtaken by another long silence. Though it was just as comfortable as the last one, it was different somehow. In a way, I felt closer to Luhan. Not in physical proximity, but in emotions and feelings. Or maybe he'd been that close all along, and I was just overlooking him.

I still don't know much about Xi Luhan, but I know one thing for sure after this day. He cares. He actually cares. And whether it's because we're classmates or practically family, at least I know there is some emotion behind his eyes whenever he looks at me. This is the first time in a long time that I'd actually felt content, happy. Just him and I, sitting on this old swingset with new emotions. Though I was sure it was only for a short period of time since the setting sun made us fully aware of the amount of time there was left till we should head home, there were many things, feelings, that stretched that moment longer than it should have been. There is a certain time limit for everything, even lives. Everything ends. Happiness, sadness, anger, contentment. . . But I was sure, if you take this moment by its ends and pull pull pull until you could pull no more, it would reach forever.

*

"Umma and Appa are out again, Yoong," Jessica said with a bright smile, setting her bowl of fried rice (of course) onto the table. "Looks like it's just you and me again."

"I'm not hungry," I said glumly, about to head upstairs.

"Good for you," she replied in an I-don't-really-care manner. "Now go upstairs and wash up. You're gonna come down here and eat with me whether you like it or not. I'm not going to feel like a pig eating this whole thing by myself!"

I giggled lovingly at my cute sister. There was something about her, something so happy-go-lucky and cheerful, that made everyone love her, including myself. She was just so positive, so upbeat. . . Another quality that I wish I possessed. . .

Just as I was making my way upstairs, an unanswered question that I've kept to myself for some time popped into my mind. "Hey Sica. . . " I called, almost half way up the stairs.

"Yes, YoonA?" I could tell by her distracted voice that she wasn't paying much attention to me, her main focus on setting the table.

"Love. . . What do you do when you're in love?" I took a guess. "When you're in love, you'd do whatever it takes, right? No matter how many obstacles come your way, and how hard it may seem to love the other person sometimes, you keep fighting for them. Love means never giving up . . . Right?"

There was a silence on Jessica's part, a sign that she was unconsciously thinking about her answer. "No," she finally answered, "that's not love, Yoong, that's selfishness. Love. . . is so much more than just doing what it takes to get the other person to stay with you, it's so much more meaningful than having them by your side everyday. Love is selfless. Love is doing everything in your power to make the other person happy, without asking for anything in return. To love someone means to forget all about your own desires and do everything according to the other person's needs. Love means giving a part of yourself to the other person and knowing full well that you're never going to get it back."

"Oh." My reply sounded stupid, but what could I say? Her reply was the complete opposite of my guess. At school, when one of the girls develop a crush on one of the guys, she doesn't stand around her friends and say, "I will stay away from him because it's what's best for him, because I love him." No, you just don't hear about stuff like that. She fights for him, regardless of what anyone else thinks or says. She doesn't stop to think about what's best for him. She just fights, because her own feelings are the only things that she's sure of, the only thing that she can trust.

"Jessica. . . ?"

"YoonA, go wash up now!" Irritation was washed all over her voice. Not because I was nosy and asked too many questions, but because I wasn't getting ready for dinner yet.

"It'll be my last question," I promised. "Do you think Umma and Appa love me?" I was at the top of the stairs, and I'd voice my query in a rather soft tone. At first, I'd thought that she didn't even hear me, and I was about to head to the bathroom to wash up, finding it useless to repeat myself.

"Yes," her answer was faint, as if she didn't want to answer, but it was there. "I think they love you."

And that might have been one of the only times in my life that my sister has ever lied to me.

 Hi loves ~ <3 Sorry for the long, long wait. I had exams, and I was studying super hard, skipping breakfast and lunch to study. It went like that for a few weeks -.- But hey, at least I updated, right? (: And it's summer now, WOOOOOOOOOH. First of all, YoonA & Luhan's interaction. . . I think you can all see that Luhan and YoonA care for each other. YoonA has already confessed (to herself) her love care for Luhan, and how deep Luhan's feelings run for YoonA, I'll leave that one for you guys to figure out. (: Though it is Luhan and YoonA that I emphasized in this chapter, it is actually the interaction btwn YoonA & Jessica that carries a lot of meaning. Jessica is the only female figure that cares for YoonA, really, so she looks up to her older sister a lot. But the biggest difference btwn the two of them is that Jessi is loved and favorited by her parents, whereas YoonA has always been the odd one out. Though YoonA was sure that it was a lie when Sica told her that her parents loved her, you have to understand that Jessi doesn't see their parents like YoonA sees them. Though she is faint and unsure when she answers YoonA, and a part of her IS lying because she can see that her parents don't pay nearly as much attention to YoonA as they do to her, there is a part in Jessica that believes that her parents love YoonA. And whether Sica is right or not, I just want you to know that this is all in her head, her own thinking. She can't possibly think of her parents as negligent and harsh as YoonA does. To her, her family is whole, perfect. That scene was more of an emotional one for YoonA and Jessica, not their parents. I don't know if you guys understand what I mean, but good luck deciphering it. (: I'm bad at explaining xD Haha. I think the next chapter will be the last? But I'm a rather spontaneous writer, so we'll see. c: & I'm sure you found many grammar mistakes due to my lack of revising my own story. Forgive me readers<3 BTW, my profile picture is a picture of me compared to TaeYeon! If you have time, could you take a second to look at it and tell me if I look like her or not? Thankyouuuu~<3 CHU~!