Jessica Jung sat down lightly on the bed, careful not to wake its’ occupant from her slumber.

It had been a rough night they told her, once she got home from an urgent meeting with her design team in the U.S. and collectively sighed in sadness.

“She had become nearly impossible, crying out young master’s name as if he were still alive. The poor madam…”

She let out a soft, resigned sigh and bit her lip as she brushed back a tendril of hair across her mother’s cheek. She was always near impossible since that day, all those years ago when her father had given her an ultimatum and she went through it with regret. So much regret.

“Hmm… Choika-Choikang?”

She bit back a cry and wiped at her cheek, pulling on a smiling face as her mother’s eyes came into focus and blinked up at her. “It’s me, Mom… It’s Jessica.”

“Oh… has Choikang come home yet?”

“No, not yet. He’s sleeping over at the Kim family, remember? With Jaejoong-ah and his sisters?” She replied without missing a beat. It was a lie well rehearsed, a lie Jessica told her mother every single day.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I remember.” She buried her head onto her pillow once again, her eyes drifting closed every so slowly. “Will you check up on him for me, Jessica? … you know how your father doesn’t want me to talk to him…”

Jessica nodded once, brushing her cheek once again as the sun’s rays flitted through the spaces in the curtains and she fell asleep again. Another day to waste, and then another night to lie through (again and again and again and again until—maybe, someday…).

“I will.”

“So… tell me about yourself.”

The question was simple enough for any adult to start introducing himself to another person once asked… but that wasn’t the case for him. Not for Shim Changmin – because he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t want to talk, even though the situation had him cornered between exposing a deal made with a certain girl and said girl’s father. He tried to think of something appropriate to say under the watchful gaze Mr. Im cast down on him, and secretly wished for an escape when none came to mind.

Changmin knew he wasn’t anything particularly amazing. He juggled three jobs at a daily basis and had two crazy adoptive sisters. The only thing that made him interesting would be the fact that he hasn’t spoken in six years. Not since his adoptive parents left (for another family and the afterlife) him and his sisters to fend for themselves.

What could he say (or rather, write) at this point that wouldn’t sound strange and have him hung by the neck for dating daughter Im?

“Is it a difficult question?” Mr. Im suddenly said, breaking into Changmin’s thoughts and bringing him back to reality. He had on an amused smile and three fingers on his chin. He stared him down and continued, “Are you, perhaps, a dangerous man? Because I don’t see any other reason why it would be hard for you to answer that question.”

The look of utter shock in his face made Mr. Im almost snort in laughter. He hadn’t thought he was dangerous – he was only meant to kid the young man into a more comfortable state. However, it seemed like his little joke only made Changmin even more anxious than he appeared in front of him. Maybe this was why daughters always tell their fathers that they shouldn’t joke in front of their boyfriends. The jokes come off as threatening and put them on edge, when really they were just making pleasant conversation. It reminded him of the day he met his own father-in-law back when he was courting his wife. It had not gone well the first few hours but eventually it got better.

When after another minute all Changmin could do was blink and let his pen hover over the whiteboard, Mr. Im finally let out a loud laugh (one that almost mirrored her daughter’s) and shook his head.

“I was joking, Changmin. I don’t think you’re dangerous. Extremely nervous, yes – but that’s understandable considering.” He said, smiling. He gestured to himself and lifted an eyebrow. “Do I look scary to you? If so, you’ll have to forgive me. It’s the Dad mode, I think. It’s innate in our system to scare our daughters’ boyfriends away.”

Changmin let out a relieved breath, cracking a small smile out of his lips and nodding. He quickly scrawled a message onto the board and turned it over, /You had me there, sir. I was just about ready to burst into another gallon of nervous sweat./

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do any harm; only asking questions.” He replied, “Just tell me a little bit about yourself. It’s not so hard to answer.”

The young man was motionless for awhile, thoughtful as the pen once again touched the whiteboard in his hands. He shifted into a comfortable position in his seat and began to write moments later, taking extra pains in making sure his language was polite and properly worded. He didn’t get to finish his degree, but he at least had a good sense of grammar and he wanted to show Mr. Im that at least.

/I am an orphan. I think I should I tell you that first, so that it’s easier for you to understand when I also tell you that I never finished University because I had to work and provide for my two adoptive sisters, Sooyoung and Yuri. They are 20 and 18, respectively and are a handful. Sooyoung is in her second year on a business degree at a community college while Yuri will graduate from highschool soon. Our father left us with a music store to manage and with the money we get from that, I also work part time at a café and help out as a foreman at a construction company called DDC Constructions./

Changmin glanced at Mr. Im for any change in expression and patiently waited to gauge his reaction. He remained utterly thoughtful all the while he was reading, and so he wasn’t sure if the older man was thinking less of him or not. When Mr. Im finally finished reading (or rather, when he finally lifted his gaze to meet his), Changmin pulled the board back, erased the words quickly and added more.

He wasn’t sure how this would make him look but—Oh what the hell. Better to get over it now.

/… You might be wondering how someone like me – who refuses to talk – could land jobs like that, but it’s quite amazing how understanding people could be to someone in need. I haven’t spoken in six years. Somehow I think I already forgot how./

“Six years? Really? You haven’t spoken in that long?” Mr. Im exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. He hadn’t expected that – six years was an awfully long time for someone to keep quiet. Almost impossible really, if he thought about it. “How could you have done it? Doesn’t your throat hurt?”

Changmin shrugged, clearing his throat absentmindedly to check. /Sometimes it does, but not often. I’m not entirely sure if not speaking is the same as when someone doesn’t move for a long period of time but so far I think my vocal chords are in good condition./

“Why don’t you speak?”

The question was expected somehow, and Changmin never gave away any reaction. He was used to people asking him that question – and although he had never really answered any of them, he didn’t think saying or rather, writing nothing in response would bode well with his interaction with Mr. Im. Not if he wanted to keep this somewhat ‘OK’ impression of him as Yoona’s boyfriend going.

But what could he tell him that would satisfy the older man’s curiosity and not give anything else about his life away? Changmin had always been a private person. No matter how long he’d been with the Choi family, there were still some things in his past that he could not bear to bring into light. Those memories were his own and no one needed to know about them any more than he’d ever let anyone to ask.

What happened in the past will stay there forever. He thought, absentmindedly writing words onto his board that he did not entirely mean. Flipping it over, he watched as Mr. Im’s eyes skimmed the message – /Mr. Im… there are just some things I realized I could live without…/ – nodded once and sighed in understanding.

“You are a very peculiar man.” Mr. Im said, rubbing his chin slowly as his old eyes studied Changmin’s face for any sign of distress or reaction or really anything. He gave away none, which made him both impressed and feel slightly suspicious. “But for whatever reason you have in choosing not to speak, I cannot force you to tell me.”

He watched as he nodded apologetically, bowing his head at him in reverence. He continued speaking, pulling his thin hospital blanket closer to his stomach and shrugging. “In any case, I don’t think speech has much to do about loving someone. Does it? Speaking doesn’t really cause your heart to race when you see her, does it?”

It was fortunate that he had his head down or else Mr. Im would have seen the way Changmin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at his statement.

No… speech didn’t have much to do about loving someone. Spoken words were ephemeral and could easily be changed – but the emotion, love, was a completely different story. Changmin knew this much at least, although he had never really felt it before—some close enough, but not really. He’s never spoken the words before, and even then he never felt the need to write it either. He had written confessions as child—and as such they were all also childish. ‘I like you a lot.’ ‘Please be my girlfriend.’ – they were puppy love and attraction at best.

He never felt the type of love people always sang about… a love that would send his senses into overdrive at a sudden scent (perhaps one fragrant combination of lavender and tea?), or at a sudden thought of (perhaps, doe-eyes?) staring into his—

Love, huh?, Changmin thought distractedly as he raised his head to meet Mr. Im’s gaze. The corner of his lips lifted into a small smile as he thought of the word and its’ concept; followed almost immediately with an image of a woman in a yellow sundress and glasses, sipping an espresso while reading a book and humming. A woman who would look up and say his name with a grin and order another cup before “going back to class for a test. I’ll see you later. Will you pick me up, Changmin?”

Perhaps… it was—is love. Maybe… Things had gone on so naturally between them that it was beginning to prove difficult trying to discern which was true (this was just an arrangement between her and Miss Im Yoona; nothing more, nothing less – there are no feelings) and which was pretend (he wasn’t falling in love with her, he wasn’t falling in love with her, he was…).

“Something tells me you’re thinking about my daughter right now.” Mr. Im’s words cut through his daydreaming like butter on bread and caused him to snap back at attention and laugh nervously.

/Should I be thinking of anyone else?/ Changmin wrote on his board, congratulating  himself inwardly when the older man laughed good-naturedly and shook his head.

“No. You shouldn’t be thinking of anyone else if you’re dating my precious Yoona,” he replied, laughing still.

Somehow his view of this young man was changing – all for the better, of course – though his initial impression was alright. There was something remarkably real about him, honest and direct. He liked that kind of trait in man, especially one who was special to her daughter. In his eyes, Shim Changmin was a strange man but he clearly cared deeply for his little girl to be able to come upfront about his family and his decision to go mute.

Simply knowing that fact… knowing that someone like him – strong, independent and honest – was watching over his daughter with love in his heart made it all the more easy for him to accept their relationship; accept him, he should say, to be his (perhaps) future son-in-law?

He took note of how Changmin readily met all of his gazes all throughout their conversation and smiled in contentment. There wasn’t much he needed to make sure of now that he’d finally met his precious little girl’s man. All he needed to make sure of now is how they were together—

“Say, could you pass me my phone on the table? I need to make a call.”

Changmin nodded and turned around slightly behind him, reaching for the phone with his long arms without much effort and handed it over to him. Mr. Im punched in numbers so