The dawn of something great always felt like anything but.

This was no different. They knew that the song was different from the moment they heard the demo version, that this was something special which could either make or break them, but no one dared give voice to these fluttering little hopes that suffocated them from within. Hopes like these were held close inside, like the most shameful of secrets, the soft flapping of their wings haunting the peripheries of their consciousness day and night.

Still, it was easier to ignore them, because to say these treacherous things out loud was to leave disappointment a sharper knife when none of them was realised.

Kyuhyun did what the rest of the group did: burying oneself so deep in work in order not to think or to waste time wondering. It was surprisingly easy, with the kind of schedule the company had come up with to promote their new album. Hours blurred past and suddenly it was their comeback, their first performance, their second, third, fourth, fifth. They gave their everything, their best, and when that was not enough, their even better, for nothing was ever too much for the distant sparkle that was their dream.

The result was none of them had the time or energy left to feel terrified. Which was also the reason why Kyuhyun failed to recognise that his body might not be able to keep up with his resolve.

He noticed Yesung's paler and paler face, Donghae’s diminished exuberance, Hangeng's growing silence. He also noticed the startlingly dark, heavy circles under Shindong’s eyes and the increasingly sharp bite of Heechul's temper. Sungmin could barely shoot him a tired half-smile when they were woken up before dawn after only three hours of sleep for five consecutive days, and he couldn’t help but notice that Leeteuk had never once let go of his cell phone, the small device either glued to his palm or stuck into a nearby pocket, always waiting for news and updates on how they were faring.

It was himself whom Kyuhyun did not notice—until a midnight rehearsal, until his sight blurred and his knees gave way, the world spiralling into a black maze of nothingness as he repeated the same sequence of moves for the eighteenth time in a row. When he opened his eyes again, the others were already looming over him, panic and anxiety running riot all over their faces.

“Kyuhyun.” Leeteuk had never looked or sounded more relieved in the last two weeks. “Are you alright? No, of course not—what a stupid question. But are
you in pain anywhere?”

“I don't know,” Kyuhyun managed a slow, confused answer after a moment's pause, finding words suddenly a foreign object on his oddly heavy tongue. “I’m sorry,” he added, more for Leeteuk's sake. “I didn't realise.”

“Realised what?”The older man frowned.

“That I was that tired.”

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Donghae suggested as he carefully dabbed the sweat off Kyuhyun's face with a tissue paper. Kyuhyun could feel his cheeks warming and quickly grabbed the tissue from the other’s hand, trying to sit up in the process. Predictably, his head disagreed with him and he fell back again with a soft moan.

“More like a night,” Kangin muttered from somewhere to his right. “I agree though. We should all get some rest. The performance isn't until noon anyway, so we can still squeeze in another practice in the morning.”

“I suppose you're right,” Leeteuk sighed, and then shot him another worried look. “But first we’ll bring you to the hospital to–”

“No,” Kyuhyun interrupted him quickly. “I’m alright. There’s nothing wrong with me. I was just a bit dizzy earlier and I slipped, that’s all.”

“But in case–”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, sitting up a little straighter to prove his point. “Seriously, stop being paranoid, Teukie-hyung. I just need some sleep.”

Leeteuk looked as if he still had at least thirteen different arguments on that front, but exhaustion was quick to subdue his concern. After a slow, defeated nod, he rose to his feet and began to distribute instructions to the other members. Kyuhyun relaxed slightly and shut his eyes, preparing for another try to get up.

“I can carry you.”

The deep, familiar voice sounded disturbingly close. Kyuhyun frowned, turning around, and for the first time noticed that it was Siwon who had been supporting his upper back the entire time.

Then the offer registered in his brain and his frown deepened into a scowl. “Yeah, as if I’ll ever let you,” he muttered, annoyance and mortification all rolled into one.

“I’m serious.”

“You think I’m not?”

He stood up brusquely, determined to put as much distance between them as possible, but the sudden motion sent black spots into his vision and made him reel a little. He did not fall, but Kyuhyun really wished that he had—or at least that he could dig a hole in the floor and die out of sheer mortification—when he felt Siwon's hands on his back and waist, steadying him.

“You're just being stubborn,” the older man stated, his voice low, almost accusing. “Is it really that hard to ask for someone's help? Like earlier, you should have said something. You knew we would have listened.”

“I said I didn’t realise,” Kyuhyun said through clenched teeth.

Siwon snorted. “Yeah, right."

And that was when Kyuhyun saw red. “Go screw yourself, Choi Siwon,” he snarled, pushing the man away roughly. The room had fallen silent, and Donghae and Ryeowook were throwing him anxious looks as he stalked past them, but Kyuhyun could not bring himself to care. He was tired, his head was hurting, and all he wanted right now was to get home as soon as possible and fall into his bed, not arguing with a pretentious who always thought that he knew better.

Kyuhyun ignored everyone throughout the journey back to the dorm, alternating between stubbornly looking out of the window and closing his eyes. To his relief, the others kept their silence as well. Some, like Jongwoon, had quickly succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep two minutes into the car ride. As for Siwon, Kyuhyun could always pretend that he did not feel the older man's gaze boring into the back of his head. He had had enough of him and his meddling.

Once they had arrived at the dorm, Kyuhyun made a beeline to the bathroom—oddly, no one seemed to mind for once—and took one of the fastest showers in his life. In five minutes, he was already curled up in his bed, ready for at least six hours of undisturbed sleep, when a knock came to his door.

Sighing in annoyance, Kyuhyun cracked open an eye and glared at this new source of disturbance. Sungmin, he knew, was still in the bathroom (not that he would have knocked on his own door anyway). Only two other people could have dared bother him right now, and as much as he wanted to ignore one, the last thing he wished was to offend the other.

“Come in,” he called out wearily—and immediately regretted his decision when the door was pushed open slowly and Siwon’s face appeared between the gap.

“Hey,” the older boy said with a small, timid smile. “You’re going to bed already?”

“What do you think?” Kyuhyun muttered sarcastically. The tone of voice served its purpose and the smile disappeared entirely from Siwon’s face.

“Sorry.” He looked down, guilty and contrite and yet, for some obscure reasons, clearly not giving up. “I just want to make sure that you're alright.”

Kyuhyun fought an urge to throw a generous portion of some well-deserved temper tantrum. “Stop treating me like a baby,” he hissed.

“I’m not treating you like a baby,” Siwon replied quickly, a frown caressing the smoothness of his brow. “But you passed out earlier, so maybe–”

“Sure, just rub it in.”

“You know that wasn’t what I meant–”

“I'm fine now, or don’t you have eyes?”

There was a pause, and Kyuhyun had just drawn a short, relieved breath when—of course—Siwon just had to open his mouth again.

“So you said.”

And he almost lost it for the second time to the same person under the same hour. Shouting in fury and creating a scene at one in the morning, however, did not seem to be a wise or sensible choice in this matter (despite how much the target of his outburst might have deserved it). And so Kyuhyun swallowed his anger and threw an arm across his face, mostly to avoid looking at the person he seriously wanted to maul right now.

“Yeah, so I said. You can choose to believe it or to ignore it, it’s entirely up to you. Now get the out.”

No response came for a very long time. Instead, what ensued was a spell of silence so ugly and thick that despite his irritation, Kyuhyun almost didn’t dare to breathe. His head was throbbing with all the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions inside, and he could feel telltale warmth beginning to spread behind his eyelids. Perhaps he was being unfair—and the slight sting of guilt in his chest was unmistakable—but so was Siwon for that matter.

Besides, if there was one thing Cho Kyuhyun was good at other than singing, then it would be his ability to ignore everyone and everything he wished to ignore.

Still, there was no sound of the door being closed or of anyone leaving. He could clearly picture Siwon standing there in the doorway, his shoulders slumped and expression conflicted, still desperately trying to find the right words to mend every broken little thing between them. It was unfair indeed, and Kyuhyun suddenly remembered that he was not the only one tired in the group.

He bit the inside of his lower lip. The thought speared regret so deeply it almost made him forget his wounded pride.

Almost.

“I didn't mean to make you angry.” In the end, Siwon was the first to break the silence. He sounded hurt and miserable and Kyuhyun felt that guilty nudge again. And it made him angry—guilt almost always did—angry enough to maintain his silence and prolong the torture on them both.

“By the way, you should dry your hair first before going to bed,” Siwon said again after the long pause—and that effectively put an end to Kyuhyun’s stubborn pretence.

“Oh God, can’t you just shut up and leave me alone??” he shouted as his hand moved to throw the nearest object he could grab, which turned out to be his wireless mouse. Unfortunately, his target had a quick enough reflex to swing the door shut before it could knock him in the head, and the device clattered to the floor after hitting the hard, wooden surface. Kyuhyun glared at it, breathing hard, but the sharp, sudden triumph at finally being left alone was momentary because the door swung open again three seconds later and the same infuriating face peeked in.

“One more thing. I just want to make sure that when you fell earlier, it wasn't because of your injuries from–”

“Damn it, Siwon!” Kyuhyun was pretty sure that he was yelling by now. “I had that accident like, two years ago! Why are you still harping about it?”

“But those kinds of injuries take a long time to heal!”

“Two years, you absolute moron!”

Any other person would have had enough good sense to flee by now, which was not the case with Choi ing Siwon. In fact, his sense of self-preservation was clearly nonexistent since he stepped into the room instead of retreating to safer territories after the last dangerous rise of Kyuhyun’s voice. He even closed the door behind him and was now stalking toward the bed, determination etched into every line of his face.

“I’m just worried, okay?” he began to speak again as Kyuhyun gaped at him. “I don’t know how many more times I have to say it until it gets through your head. I’m worried. We’re all worried, and not only about your condition but also the new album, and you’re definitely not helping by neglecting to tell us that you were at the point of passing out. Do you like to torture us that much?”

“In case this doesn’t occur to you,” Kyuhyun managed to articulate through the grip of indignation, “I was trying not to be a whiny son of a .”

“But you’re not! None of us think that way about you!”

“You don’t know that!” Kyuhyun burst out. “Look—fine, I don’t give a damn about that. I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone in the group. Is that really too difficult to understand?”

“Well, guess what? That is not how to not be a burden.”

There should be a limit to the number of times anybody could explode in one night, but Siwon had been constantly proving him wrong and this time seemed to be no exception. Kyuhyun was about to resort to something extreme, like punching the other man and wrestling each other until they were both black and blue—and in fact, he was one millisecond away from executing this potentially disastrous plan, when suddenly the mask of anger on Siwon’s face crumbled.

And Kyuhyun was left to splutter into silence as his formidable, would-be opponent was reduced into rueful man with a pitiful expression that could easily rival a guilt-ridden puppy’s.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Siwon muttered, shifting his gaze to the floor and furiously biting his lips. “It was out of line. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need a ing sorry,” Kyuhyun bit out callously. His frustration, deprived of a proper release, was still roaring loudly under his skin and he just wanted to blame someone. Anyone.

Siwon hung his head even lower. “I’ve been an insensitive and I’m sincerely, wholeheartedly, desperately sorry.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“Okay.” He swallowed, and then caught Kyuhyun’s gaze once more. “Then I’ll sing you our song until your forgive me. Sorry sorry sorry sorry naega naega naega meonjeo–”

Kyuhyun could only stare, open-mouthed, as his mind went absolutely blank. If he had had any remaining doubt before that the other man was an idiot, then this would have completely obliterated every single shred left.

“–nege nege nege ppajyeo ppajyeo ppajyeo beoryeo–”

He should not laugh. He really shouldn’t; Siwon was obviously an idiot with the wrong set of cross-wiring in his head, and Kyuhyun could still feel the sharp prickles of his earlier irritation even now—and in any case, this sort of offence was not one to be forgiven quickly. But he could not help the sudden twitch at the corners of his lips, or the complete refusal from the rest of his body to cooperate, and before he knew it, he had hidden his face behind a pillow to stifle the start of a helpless laugh.

And of course Siwon, being Siwon, didn’t fail to recognise his reaction for what it was, stifled or not.

“Kyu.” He stepped even closer, too much hope crowding his voice, and knelt down by the bed. “Seriously, I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Kyuhyun mumbled against his pillow, still painfully aware that the grin was not going anywhere.

“So you forgive me?”

“No.”

“But will you? If I say ‘sorry’ a thousand times more?”

“No.”

“Even if I kneel down here until the next morn– until you'll forgive me?”

“You're an idiot.”

A small, tentative smile hovered above the curve of Siwon’s lips. “I can sing the song again if you want,” he suggested.

Kyuhyun winced. “No, thank you.”

“But it can make you smile.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Really?” Siwon leaned in even closer, blinking innocently at him.

“Stop it.” Kyuhyun pushed his face away before the tightness coiling in his chest could explode. The pillow fell away, but at least he was no longer smiling—much. “You fail at acting cute, seriously.”

“But why don’t you want me to sing?” And of course he was pouting now, the stupid, ridiculous, utterly shameless man.

“Because I’m sick of that song.”

“You have a lot of lines in it,” Siwon pointed out reasonably, resting his head on the bed, next to the abandoned pillow. Kyuhyun could feel his stomach clench sharply, the sensation somewhere between painful and pleasant.

“And you look the best out of us all in it, so just shut up, please.”

“Really?” The older man was grinning now, his dimples seemingly sharper and deeper in the dim half-light of the room. “I am the best-looking?”

“As if you don’t know that,” Kyuhyun muttered, all too conscious of the warmth trickling to his cheeks.

“No, I don't. At least, I don't know that you think so.”

“Don't let it get to your head.”

“Sorry, can't promise that.” Siwon shot him a smile—such a silly, goofy smile that made Kyuhyun want to punch him. And he would too, if something else did not happen, namely his forgetting how to breathe because Siwon had just reached out to touch a lock of his damp hair.

“Let me dry your hair. Please? I don’t want you to get sick.”

“You’re like, I don’t know, my mother or my wife or something,” Kyuhyun declared wryly, trying his best to ignore the way his heart did another series of somersaults inside his ribcage.

“It’s because you’re just so bad at taking care of yourself,” Siwon replied with a pointed look. His fingers, Kyuhyun could not help but notice, was still playing with his hair. “Please?”

“If I let you do it, will you shut up for real?”

“For tonight maybe,” was the cheeky response, complete with a grin which looked entirely too innocent to actually be innocent.

Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “Ugh, fine.” He slapped the hand away, suppressing a shiver as Siwon’s fingers lingered over his for a moment. “Sungmin keeps a hair-dryer somewhere in the drawer.”

Siwon got to his feet right away and shot him a brilliant smile that almost made Kyuhyun dive behind another pillow. He inwardly swore; seriously, this was getting ridiculous.

Two minutes later, he was already sitting on the floor against the bed, the hair-dryer’s roar too loud in his ears. But Siwon fingers were tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp gently, and as his eyes drifted shut, his head resting against the side of Siwon’s knee, Kyuhyun found himself smiling.

The world could not be more perfect than this.


—


The realisation did not come slowly. It came to him like a bomb dropped out of the clear blue sky.

Siwon had his first clear inkling when one of the stylists in charge of him casually mentioned that she liked their new song very much; that virtually everyone she knew had listened to it and liked it also; that it was becoming very, very popular and there were snatches of the song practically everywhere. At every street corner and major junction. In restaurants and department stores. Shopping malls and public venues. Radio and television.

Everywhere.

Siwon remembered grinning so widely that his cheeks hurt. His mouth was only be able to repeat words like ‘really?’ and ‘thank you’ since the rest of his vocabulary seemed to have evaporated in the sudden haze of joy.

The real bomb, however, did not make an appearance until a Wednesday afternoon three weeks later. He and Leeteuk were sitting in the 12th floor kitchen, sharing a plate of watermelon between them. Siwon had most of his attention focused on his Twitter while the older man was texting one of the managers for a confirmation of their schedule for later that day. The heat from the unforgiving sun outside had permeated into every room even with the air-conditioning system in full blast and most of the other members had opted for a nap. Every now and then, he could hear the sound of Heechul's voice talking to someone above the soft drone coming from the television, but otherwise, the entire floor remained silent.

“Siwon.”

Something in Leeteuk’s voice made him raise his eyes, the tang of anticipation and wariness leaping up to the back of his throat. The older man’s expression was unreadable as he pushed his handheld across the table toward Siwon, who accepted it with knitted eyebrows. A quick glance told him that he was looking at their schedule for the next two weeks; under the three-columned table, however, was an addition of a few lines which made him stop breathing for several heartbeats.

That their third album was faring well so far was the understatement of the year. Siwon read and reread the lines, mouth going dry as the sequence of numbers slowly sank into his brain. He tried mouthing them silently, tasting the shape of each miraculous digit; it still didn’t make them feel any more real. An official release would appear later that week, a footnote informed him clinically, but the current figure was correct.

After staring at the message for what felt like a very long time, he raised his gaze again, meeting Leeteuk’s eyes across the expanse between them. The other man maintained his silence, white-knuckled hands clasping each other tightly in front of his mouth. That was when Siwon realised the small tremors that travelled to the tips of his own fingers. He put the cell phone down on the table and opened his mouth, only to find that he could not bring himself to articulate a word. Neither could Leeteuk, and they were left to stare at each other in silence, as if afraid that the smallest disturbance would break the spell.

This was still one of those hopes which could easily shatter at the slightest wrong shift and Siwon did not want to tempt fate.

It was clear, though—written in Leeteuk’s face, in their new schedule, in the figure added underneath, in too many magazine articles and headline news trumpeted by giant, colourful billboards outside. And they all spelled the same thing.

They were going to make it—and they were going to make it big.


—


“Pinch me.”

Kyuhyun obliged—twice. They did absolutely nothing to Hyukjae’s awestruck (and honestly rather dumb-looking) expression.

“Pinch me again.”

This time, he made sure that there was a yelp from the other boy before easing off the pressure. They were sitting on the bed with their backs against the wall, he in the middle flanked by Hyukjae and Ryeowook, his laptop balanced on a pillow atop his bended knees. Hyukjae was rubbing the abused part of his arm, muttering curses under his breath, but his eyes never left the laptop screen where twenty-five different tabs crowded the space of one browser, all bearing variations of the same headline.

Each and every one had the words Super Junior and Sorry, Sorry in it.

Barely noticing the way Hyukjae’s pointed chin dug into his shoulder, Kyuhyun scanned the article quickly and moved to the next one, ignoring a half-hearted burst of protest from his friend. Ryeowook, on the other hand, had been utterly still for the last five minutes, sitting with one cheek pressed against Kyuhyun's upper arm and processing everything in silence.

“Is this even possible?” Kyuhyun finally heard him mumble, the words slightly muffled against the sleeve of his T-shirt.

Under normal circumstances, Kyuhyun would have rolled his eyes and told the other boy to see an optometrist if he distrusted his sight that much. Now, he only offered, “Just ask me if you also want a pinch.”

“But we didn’t do anything different,” Ryeowook argued, shifting a little to catch his gaze. “Well, we did the street attack thing, and maybe the promotion has been a bit heavier than the first two. But was that it?”

Kyuhyun did not answer at once. He himself was still taking in the enormity of it. Their song seemed to have become some sort of phenomenon, for the lack of a better word. Added to the fact that it did incredibly well not only in Korea, but also abroad—in fact, in too many countries to count, as YouTube had legitimately proven—and the members suddenly had more than a slight difficulty to distinguish fact from fiction. Leeteuk had been walking around in a kind of daze for the most part of the week and the others simply could not stop grinning despite the ridiculous extent of their schedule. Some, like Donghae, had also acquired the habit of suddenly bursting into tears at the most innocuous moments, without even the slightest provocation.

“Don’t think,” Kyuhyun finally said, nudging the side of Ryeowook’s head. “Just enjoy the moment. It might not come again.”

“He’s right for once, you know,” Hyukjae intoned from his other side. “Except for the latter part. We’ve worked hard to get here and we’ll keep doing what we do to go even further—that’s all there is to it. So stop thinking and relax, Wookie.”

A small, hesitant smile finally made its way to Ryeowook’s face. It quickly bloomed into a grin as he pinched the side of Kyuhyun’s waist, earning himself a surprised yelp as the laptop toppled onto the bed.

“Just to make sure we’re not dreaming,” he explained meekly under the younger boy’s glare.


—


One of the most disagreeable side effects of living together with so many people was the serious lack of privacy when one was actually in need of such things.

On one hand, Siwon had a choice. Unlike the rest of the band, he could have easily returned to his own apartment and released the floodgate of his emotions in the privacy of his bedroom, with absolutely no threat of any mortifying discovery hanging over his head. However, the idea of being alone in that dark, silent space after what Leeteuk had just announced—and now listening to noises of the ongoing celebration—had become downright unappealing.

So he quietly stepped outside, to the small, darkened balcony that gave view of the lamp-lit city under his feet. Siwon didn’t think that he cried easily, despite loud claims of the contrary from other members of the group. Tonight, however, was one of the rare times when he could afford to let himself indulge in a moment of weakness. There was one point in the wide, multi-coloured spectrum of happiness where everything was inverted, where elation took a different shape, compressed and sharpened to the point of pain—and this was where he was right now. In the dizzying height of triumph, all he could think of was his parents’ too-obvious disappointment, even aversion, at his chosen profession. The tight-lipped silence of his father. The faint but eloquent sigh from his mother. Neither had stopped haunting him to this day.

One approving smile was all he ever wanted. Maybe, just maybe, he could now be a step closer to that day.

A sound coming from behind made him turn around, an involuntary reaction more than anything else. Kyuhyun had stopped in his track, his expression frozen into a mask of uncomfortable surprise as he noticed the look on Siwon’s face.

“Sorry.” He was quick to recover, already retreating half a step. “I’ll come back later.”

“No, it’s alright,” Siwon said hurriedly, wiping any lingering tears with the heel of his hand. “You didn’t disturb me or anything.”

“But–”

“Really, I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything,” he continued earnestly. “Please stay.”

Kyuhyun stepped out gingerly after a moment’s hesitation, still wearing the look of a soldier walking into a minefield. He stood stiffly at Siwon’s side, hands curling around the cold metal railing as they remained in the silence for some time and listened to the occasional bursts of laughter from within. Glancing at the younger man, Siwon thought to himself that out of them all, Kyuhyun definitely looked the calmest, something which never ceased to amaze him to this day.

“Can you believe it?”

Every trace of discomfiture disappeared from Kyuhyun’s face as his customary smirk returned and once more took its rightful throne. “I’ve been pinching Hyukjae for the last thirty minutes and Ryeowook has been pinching me, so yes, I can safely say that I believe it,” he informed him dryly.

“It’s just… it’s hard to believe that something like this is finally happening to us.” Siwon paused, then inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to the point of bursting and letting it go in one quick, heady rush. It was ridiculous, and he felt ridiculous—as well as inordinately happy—but at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care that much.

“Have you ever felt so happy that you literally can’t feel anymore?” he heard himself ask.

“That sounds a bit contradictory,” Kyuhyun said, amusement evident in his voice, “but yes.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“Isn’t that a very stupid assumption?”

“A bit stupid, yeah,” Siwon admitted, grinning. “But seriously, what makes reality different from a dream? Your pinching method isn’t exactly foolproof.”

Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “I can try answering that, but believe me, you don’t want to jump into any kind of philosophical discussion with me right now.”

Siwon could not help but laugh, a light, skittering sound that rode the night’s hush until it faded into stardust of echoes, etched quietly into memories. He linked his fingers together and found himself looking into Kyuhyun’s eyes, close enough to feel his warmth.

“This is going to sound even more stupid—and maybe a bit arrogant too—but I think this is the moment when I truly fall in love with life.”

“Actually,” Kyuhyun argued, tilting his head to one side, “I think this is the moment when life falls in love with us.”

“Do you really think that?” Siwon held their gaze, his voice falling into a softer, more solemn lilt. “Really?”

“Is it so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know,” Siwon admitted quietly. “Because to be honest, I’m still afraid that I’m going to wake up and find that everything is just a dream.”

“Even if this is a dream, you’re still having it with the rest of us,” Kyuhyun pointed out, and there were tiny golden threads of truthfulness in the cloak of levity draped over his voice. Siwon found himself smiling.

“I suppose that’s good enough.”

“You mean the best.”

“Yes.” He was grinning now and his arm found its way around Kyuhyun’s smaller frame. “Definitely the best.”

Kyuhyun’s only response was a small, contented smirk. Once again they lapsed into silence, standing side by side, listening to their friends’ laughter and the quieter sounds of the city that was falling in love with them.

Siwon decided that he could live in this moment forever.

End Chapter 4
 

---

Is anyone frustrated already? xD

I'm really sorry for the late update. A new semester already started and all I can say is my slow update will become even slower orz And there's still the Victorian fic, which I've promised my sister to finish before October 24 /hits self

By the way, I have a small plea for help ;w; Is there anyone here who speaks Mandarin and can help me to translate two sentences for the next chapter? We'll be dealing with SJM next and Siwon just has this need to sprout cheesy things in Mandarin, which will lead to the drama I mentioned in the last chapter /coughs

Last but not least, thank you for reading! Comments will be much appreciated :)