DARA’S POV

I tossed and turn as I felt that this was the most comfortable sleep I had for years now. I felt the soft bed against my cheek as I hugged the soft pillow tightly. I smelled a familiar scent and I swear, even with my eyes closed and half of me still asleep, I smiled.

I breathed in deeper as the familiar scent filled my nose again. Wait. Why did the scent of this bed and pillow smell familiar in the first play, anyway? Too familiar. It didn’t even smell like my bed, not at all.

With that thought, my eyes flew open and it finally dawned on me – I wasn’t in my bedroom. I sat up and panicked. I looked down at my clothes and I was still wearing the same clothes I wore last night, at least this was what I remembered wearing. I sighed in relief. Wait, why was I even panicking in the first place? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t slept with some random man I couldn’t remember I had a drink with last night, before. This time, though, it felt really different.

My eyes lifted again as they took in the room where I was.

This was Jiyong and Taeyeon’s room!

“Eh? Why am I here?” I asked no one in particular.

I scratched my head as I couldn’t remember why I was here. And besides, wasn’t Taeyeon abroad? And wasn’t I left with Jiyong…here…in…Seoul…?

My eyes widened and quickly I jumped off the bed as realization hit me. I was alone with Jiyong last night. I was practicing piano and then… what happened?

I scratched my head again. I wish I did not do something stupid. Where was he anyway? My eyes scanned for my phone. It was on the side desk. But what caught my eyes was a mug beside it and on it was a post-it note.

I grabbed the mug and read the note.

                Good morning ^^ how was your sleep? I hope you slept well. Eat breakfast when you wake up before you practice playing again. I cooked you some of your favorites. Also, I left some music you could practice on. I left it by the piano.

I creased my brow, fighting the tears from falling. What was he doing? What was he thinking by reliving the Daddy-Long-Legs era we shared before? Was he mocking me?

I put the mug down and turned around, as I felt the tears finally falling.

“Stupid morning heat. It makes my eyes watery,” I reasoned as I hurriedly walked off the bedroom and headed outside, not once stopping until I reached the door and the outside. I closed the door behind me and with determination I took the first steps of my day. No depressing thoughts.

Earlier today, I met with the organizers of the event. They showed me the venue where the wedding was going to be held. It would be held at a huge church with intricate architectural designs, touched with modern influences. The church was huge that by estimation, it would take anyone marching by the aisle about five minutes before reaching the end.

I explained to them that I was going to play the piano for the wedding and they said they also prepared the piano and the place where I would be playing it -- just beside the altar, a little bit far but still with a clear view of the people marching and if I would have stayed by my place until the ceremony ended, I would also catch the groom and bride’s faces while they exchanged vows.

Perfect. Just perfect. Fate was mocking me. Thank you, fate!

I asked them to change it but they said it was the perfect place. Wow! Thank you so much, fate!

Anyway, so they also told me what the motif was and I had to at least incorporate it with the designs that I had to put on their attires.

This would be a hard work. And I had to work alone. CL was my favorite designer but she wasn’t here. I wasn’t saying that my crew here wasn’t great and I had seen their potentials, though they didn’t really complement mine. CL and I were more of a greater combination. If only CL was here too.

And another thing, I had to balance this work and the work I left at Japan and the work I had here. In fact, I just sent some of the designs I made in rush to Minzy who had been bothering and emailing me about the designs because apparently the due was closer.

I just came back from the Seoul branch of my boutique and briefly met them for the work they had to do and also the designs they had to make for me to check and do some changes. I decided it was better this way because I would have lesser things in mind.

I sighed as I took a look at the third wedding gown I designed.

JIYONG’S POV

I deeply sighed as I pressed the codes to my room. This was a long and boring day on the office. Same ole office works preoccupied most of my time.

I entered the room and immediately remembered something that could lift my moods up – Dara.

I was expecting her to be by the piano, since I heard from Taeyeon that she gave her permission to practice here and also she knew the passcodes to our room. But I saw the piano seat empty. My eyes caught a folder that I remembered putting there, before I left for work. I picked it up and opened it. She left this? Oh, maybe. She might be coming back anyway.

I headed to my room about to take a bath and change into comfortable clothes when I saw the mug on the side table. I smiled as I read the writing on the post-it note. I wonder if she read this.

An idea came to mind and I immediately ran towards the dining room, expecting it to be clean and made up. But what met me was the covered food that I left. I opened the covers and found out that each of them were untouched. They were getting cold too and some of them might already be spoiled.

She must have not seen the note, right?

Pushing the negative thoughts back into the pits of my mind, I turned around to take a bath.

Since I was free today and it was just five in the afternoon, I decided to go out and maybe have a drink. I was alone right now. Dami met some of her friends, Dad hadn’t come home from his province yet, and Dara… well, I don’t know where she was.

I found myself standing at one of Dara’s cafes. I smiled as I decided to step inside.

“Annyeong haseyo, welcome to Miss Dee’s Café,” one of the employees greeted and I bowed slightly before heading to the counter to order.

My eyes wandered as I was ordering and I spotted Dara by the far end of the café, looking outside of the glass wall and then leaned down to whatever she was working on.

Without hesitation, I walked towards her while she was still clueless. I sat on the seat just across her and she didn’t even notice. I propped my elbows on the table and cleared my throat.

She lifted her head and she jerked on her seat. “Oh, you scared me,” she said, clutching her heart. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked her back, a playful smile on my lips.

“I asked you first,” she said.

I shrugged. “Decided to have a drink at one of the best-selling cafes in Seoul,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s your order then?”

I laughed lightly. “Still waiting for it. And what are you doing here at your own store?”

She showed me the papers she was holding. “Wedding gowns.”

My eyes fell on what she was holding and my smile faltered. “You’re working on it too hard eh?”

She did not answer but instead she started arranging her things.

“Unnie, here’s your – oh!” a woman cut herself off when her eyes met mine. She was holding a cup of coffee. She then turned to Dara. “Unnie, it’s Jiyong-oppa.”

I creased my brows and stared back at Dara, as if asking her.

“It’s Lee Hayi,” she said coldly before turning to the woman. I did too and she was staring at me with a confused look. And that was the time I remembered her. She was one of Dara’s co-workers when she worked at Happy Bean Café before.

I slightly bowed at her. “Annyeong haseyo, Hayi. It’s been a long time.”

“Annye—“

“Don’t talk to him,” Dara cut her off.

“Why?” Hayi turned to her.

Dara then pulled her away and it seemed she whispered to her. Hayi then looked shocked as she turned around and met my gaze, before Dara pulled her back.

I arrived at my room when it was seven in the evening. I had dinner outside, at a restaurant near Dara’s café and I was, once again, alone. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t experienced eating out alone. For seven years, I did. But this felt different.

As I opened the door, soft piano music met my ears and I instantly knew it was Dara playing. She was even playing one of the compositions I did.

“Did you eat already?” I asked, stopping her from her piano-playing.

She nodded curtly and continued playing. “This is a good song too,” she said.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I mumbled as I headed to the couch, dropping myself on it as I felt heaviness dawning on me suddenly.

DARA’S POV

It was nine o’clock when I decided to take a rest. Three hours of sitting in front of the piano and playing some of Jiyong’s recommended (or maybe self-composed) songs. I stretched my arms upward and turned around, deciding to get myself a glass of water. But, like before, I saw Jiyong on the couch. However, unlike last night, he was lying and looked like he was sleeping. He looked tired and even sweating profusely and also trembling as if cold. Two contrasting things.

Wondering why, because the air conditioner was booming, I walked closer to him and examined his face. He seemed not sleeping though as his face was scrunching as if in pain and beads of sweat were forming on his face. Hesitantly, I grabbed his hand that was lying on his side and felt it. He was burning!

I planted my palm on his sweating forehead and despite the sweat, his skin was burning.

Panicking, I looked for the first-aid box. He was having a fever, for Pete’s sakes. Where are those medicines when you need them?

Giving up, I ran towards my room and grabbed my medicines box. I ran back to their room as if my was on fire and got a glass of water. I sat beside him and led the glass to his lips as I assisted him to get up slightly.

“Drink this,” I ordered.

He did and then I gave him the medicine and ordered him to swallow along with the water. I felt his skin again and he was still burning. Of course, I couldn’t just expect the medicine to give an effect already, right?

Aish! Stupid brain.

I stood up and grabbed a blanket to wrap it on him. After that, I grabbed a basin of water and a towel and went back to him. I pressed the wet towel on his face and arms. I noticed for the first time that my hands were trembling too.

“Stop trembling, damn it!” I mumbled under my breath.

“It’s cold,” he mumbled too.

“I…I wasn’t…” I trailed off as I was about to tell him I wasn’t referring to him but he seemed unconscious.

After the commotion and when my heartbeat went back to its normal pace, I just sat on the floor, staring at him. He was still burning hot and I wondered why. However, I had some theories. And I was the one to blame.

He stayed up late while I was playing. He stayed up late because he taught me the piece last night. And this morning, he might had needed to wake up early for work, giving himself a few hours of rest before going full on working. Also, he was working the whole day, without much energy from the lack of sleep. I noticed this afternoon by the café that he looked tired despite his smile.

I was to blame, yes.

“Dara…” he mumbled and I leaned forward, anticipating what he had to say, thinking that he might need water or anything. However, it didn’t seem the case. “It’s cold.” He trembled as if a shiver just ran his spine. His voice was trembling too when he talked.

I didn’t know what to do and I was already crying. I didn’t know what else to do. I gave him medicine, I gave him a compress, I wrapped him in a blanket, and I even turned down the air-conditioner.

Without so much to do, with my trembling hands, I grabbed his hand and enclosed it with mine.

“Get well,” I said, my voice trembling.

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