Emer likes me. Emer doesn’t like me.

There are times when I think that I have finally earned her respect and times when I question myself.

On some days, my heart is cold. On other days, my heart is warm.

This shouldn’t be the case. My body is regulated at the temperature of sixty-eight degrees – not too hot, and not too cold.

Why is it that, when Emer is happy with me, my heart feels like it’s burning? Why is it that, when she seems displeased, my heart feels like it will cease to function?

Why?

Weeks pass. She is indifferent. She is sweet. She is distant. She is close. She is so many things all at once, and I struggle to define her. Her mood is constantly fluctuating, but the attribute she owns that I found amazing from the start is her liveliness.

Alive. She is so alive.

Just as she had predicted, the weather turns cold. The air is crisp when I step out of the front door. I wait for snow. I wait for sun. I wait for anything that will give me reason to talk to Emer about things besides work.

I make her hot chocolate every morning. She drinks it every morning.

It’s one of the highlights of my day.

I want to do more for her. I want to do the kinds of things that will satisfy her. I want to please her. I want to see her smile.

Is it normal to feel this way?

When she smiles, I swear my heart stops beating.

I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but I don’t care. I just know that seeing her smile makes me happy.

Is there a name to this condition? Perhaps I need to talk to the Institute about this. Perhaps my system needs to be updated.

I need a name for this feeling. If there is a name, then maybe I can understand it better.

“Luhan, I’m going to the Market,” she tells me one morning.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.

“No. I’ll only be gone for a little bit. And just so you know, I’m no longer grounded,” she informs me. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, and watch her go. I wanted her to take me with her. I suppose that is asking for too much.

I wait for her to come back. I tidy the house. After that, I play with my Rubik’s Cube. I solve and resolve it until she returns. When I hear the door unlock, I eagerly await her presence.

“Luhan!” She shouts as soon as she enters the house. Excitement dances in her eyes. “Luhan, look outside!” She motions me to my feet and brings me outside. “Look,” she grins. “It’s snowing.”

I look up at the gray sky. Large, white, sparkly things drift from the heavens and fall to the ground. The grass is layered with a thousand crystals. It becomes a world of white, a world of minuscule objects that float and sway to the rhythm of the wind. I turn my hand palm up, and a clump of these things called ‘snow’ lands on my hand. They twinkle like everlasting stars.

“This is your first time seeing this, isn’t it?” She asks me. “Isn’t it pretty?”

She remembered. That’s all I can think about, and suddenly, the weather doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s looking at me like I’m the most fascinating creature on earth. And all I want to do is tell her that she’s prettier than all this snow.

“It’s pretty,” I answer as I gaze at her. “Very pretty.”

She smiles at my words and lifts her head to the sky. The snow falls around her in a curtain of delicate opals. The breeze tangles its fingers into her hair, and her clothes flutter in the wind. I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful than she does at this moment. She is reckless. Unbridled. And ardently alive.

“It’s not melting,” she says, approaching me.

“What isn’t?”

“The snow,” she says, pointing to my hand. She observes the unwavering bundle of snow cradled against my palm. “Why is that?” She asks, looking at me. “I mean, I get that you’re an Exon, but you’re warm, aren’t you? You are a machine. This should melt.”

A machine. I am a machine.

I know that. That information is severely ingrained into my crafted heart. I was made on that principle, created with that intent. I am a machine. I am an Exon. I should be unable to feel human emotions. It seems that I am also unable to melt snow.

Why does that dishearten me?

An odd expression passes Emer’s face. She wipes the snow off my hand. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I – “ She stops and glances behind me. “Who are you?”

I turn around to see Sehun walking towards us. He is dressed in all black. He sharply sticks out against the white background, and his vacant expres