Like most girls when they’re young and innocent, Miyoung believed in fairytales.

Destiny, true love, soulmates, and a happily-ever-after.

But, like many other girls when they grow up, Miyoung grew out of it. She realized that those things weren’t real.

The closest Miyoung had ever come to a fairytale was her childhood favorite story of “Sleeping Beauty”.

Miyoung was a small girl (“Petite!” she preferred). Sometimes, she wondered if being so petite made her invisible – because that was certainly how she felt at times. Miyoung had experienced numerous heartbreaks, and had soon given up on love. She was smart and cute, but practical and cold.

However, when she was alone, she liked to dream. And a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

She dreamed that one day she’d meet her prince – a missing childhood memory, or a man of her sure-fire passionate future. And when she found him, he’d find her – no, he’d have been looking for her on a white horse.

A bike was fine, too.

But, as she told herself numerous times, dreams were meant for sleeping.

Changmin was different.

Where she had given up love, he had found it. And lost a few, but that wasn’t the point.

He wasn’t a playboy. He was just a charming young man in search of his true love.

He was less practical; and really, he was more like a cheerful, mature child most of the time.

Changmin was searching for love, for his adorable princess, with a candied heart and love, silky and warm like hot chocolate.

He rather liked chocolate.

But Changmin had not found his “her”. He was dating a girl – but as he told himself, he wasn’t comfortable with her. He found it difficult to talk to her, and – as strange as it was – was more than fine – happy, even – when he wasn’t spending time with her.

Which was rather often.

And on one of those moments, Changmin was sitting on a bench at a subway station, waiting for his ride to come and whisk him away to the pathway of his fellow gaming friends. As Changmin waited, he watched the people around him – mildly curious.

But then, his curiosity peaked. He saw a girl standing nearby, elbows propped on the windowsill and her head turned to look out the window. He couldn’t see her face, but only her long, dark hair. What made him most curious though, was the interesting sweater she wore. A pink hoodie, to which a small pair angel wings had been attached. And as the golden afternoon’s bright sunlight shone through the window, it wrapped itself around her and made her positively glow.

Changmin stood up, wanting to greet the angel, but when he took one step towards her, a large crowd of tourists swarmed in front of him, chattering and pulling loud suitcases. When they were gone, the angel had disappeared, and his subway line had arrived.

The angel was stuck in Changmin’s mind, causing him his first loss to his best friend for the first time in two months. While his friend cheered, Changmin thought of the angel.

A week later – which felt like years to Changmin – he spotted the angel. Or, at least, he thought he did. He saw the hoodie (pulled up over her head), the sweet pink (like cotton candy, he thought), the sparkling wings (whatever kind of fabric that was), and ran up to the girl – only to find that the girl was a short haired girl with an expressionless face. He apologized and let her be.

And it was that time, that Changmin realized that the hoodie must have been popular. He wouldn’t be able to find his angel.

Now, Miyoung was the short-haired girl who had been mistaken for Changmin’s angel. She stared as he walked away sadly, feeling the strange urge to comfort him, speak to him. But instead of following him, Miyoung walked on her way, putting thoughts of the handsome man in the back of her mind.

That weekend, Miyoung had no homework – and, happy, she her laptop and went straight to writing. She was part of numerous roleplays (“Writing communities”, she told anyone who asked), and loved being on them almost more than anything. It was one of the only places she felt at home and not alone.

And on that weekend, it so happened that one of her friends, Hyuna, wanted to gather her friends from the roleplay and speak to each other – cameras on and streaming. After some hesitation, Miyoung joined.

Changmin was there, but neither person recognized the other.

Still, they wanted to get to know each other.

But, insecure and unsure, they introduced themselves as, “Voldemin” and “Tiffany”.

And despite the nicknames, something clicked.

A week later, “Tiffany” started to smile.

Hardly a day later, “Voldemin” was single.

And yet, Changmin continued to return to the subway station in search of his angel. With Miyoung’s encouragement, his spirit was renewed, and he was ready to look for the lady that had caught his eye.

Changmin sat on the bench, looking around – when he wasn’t looking at the phone in his hands. He smiled as Miyoung cheered him on for the fifth day in a row. But soon bored, he struck a conversation with her, forgetting to look around him for his angel.

When Tiffany told him she was waiting at a subway station, he told her he was, as well. With a laugh, she pondered to him how odd it would be, should they be at the same station. In return, Voldemin told her he was sitting on a bench, and she told him she was leaning against a window.

When they finally tore their eyes away from each other’s messages, they met each other’s eyes.

Light wrapped around Miyoung, making her glow – in her angel hoodie and short hair. Her deep, dark chocolate-like brown eyes, and her pink-sugared cheeks.

And that was when Changmin realized he had found his angel, his princess, his love.

When he came to stand next to her, he promised her that he’d make her believe in fairytales again.

She would believe in him.

They embraced, and the rest is – Well, what else?

They lived happily ever after.

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