Oh how my heart hurt at the thought of Jongin chewing away at his breakfast, wondering if I should have never come into his life.

I practically wanted to run back and hold him forever, but I couldn't. Not until I thought of something to tell him. Jongin told me the deepest, darkest part of his soul and I just sat there and watched the corners of his heart turn into ashes. I could have at least held him.

But what else did he want me to do? Smile and give him a pat on the back? That I could not do. And Jongin knew me well enough to know that my expressions were always blatantly revealed on my facade, no matter how much I tried to hide.

It was only eight in the morning and I realized that maybe everything could have gone better if I was alone with Jongin and had some time for him to explain everything and let me ask my questions. There's a time and place for everything and frankly, seven in the morning on Jongin's porch and Miss Kwon dangling on every word that came out of our mouths was not the time or the place for that big of a bomb to drop.

I wanted time to re-think everything that had happened, but as soon as my confound self ambled into my home, I saw my parents both in the living room, arguing as if there was nothing else better to do this early in the day.

"Hana," my father turned towards me and gave me a tight smile. My mother stopped with her antics and stared at me as if I had interrupted an important, intellectual conversation.

Something wasn't right and I was not in the mood to deal with my family problems after what had just happened.

Well, this was my life. There wasn't much to say about it except for the fact that I wished that I didn't care so much about everyone. I wish I didn't care enough to be hurt. But then again, I was constantly playing an emotional version Russian roulette with myself, trying to solve problems that weren't even mine to deal with and constantly trying to mend relationships and make new ones, knowing that I could potentially end up "dead".

Jongin's confession left me flustered and I couldn't deal with any more arguments so I just stared at my father whom I hadn't seen ever since Jongin and I got caught at the hotel.

I cringed on spot and practically shook my head.

I tried my hardest not to think of what happened back then. It seemed like forever ago and I didn't like to think about it because it made me cringe. The whole elope wasn't even that long ago- yet,  all I could say was that Jongin and I were idiots to think that the whole thing would work.

Generations of kids are all the same. All rebel- wannabes that will do anything not to end up like our parents. But we always do. It's a vicious cycle and it makes me wonder if my parents didn't want to be like my grandparents and so on.

The three of us were staring at each other in the dusty living room filled with second hand furniture. The bright morning sun was a stark contrast to the murky, drab filled house of mine. All the sun really did was add emphasis to the dust particles floating around the living room.

"Where were you, dad?" I asked. I hadn't even kept track of how long it had been. He's never away for more than a week at a time- no exception. It was part of his contract. But this time, he had been working for at least three weeks straight.

Or, "working".

"Work," he cleared his throat.

My dad glanced at my mother sideways. Oh, weren't we all an exciting bunch to look at. I could tell by my father's glance that the whole reason for my parents fighting was because he was gone for so long.

"Okay," I responded. I didn't want to test them today. "Well, I'm glad you're home."

He nodded at me and my parents both watched and waited for me in silence for the sound of my door closing.

"Oh, wait," dad called.

I stuck my head out from the hallway.

"Jongin's not in town, right?"

"Nope, he isn't," my mother chirped up. I stared at my mom and my father did too.

"He isn't," I validated, quickly retreating into my room. I didn't know why I had to live like this, lying to my parents and sneaking off. There was no doubt about it, my mom knew something. I already had enough to think about and now my parents were barking like dogs over where my father was. Mom must have got a feeling that suddenly she wasn't good enough for dad and I was glad that she finally knew.

Otherwise, she would have no reason to feel paranoid, right?

- - -

Days slowly crept on by and before I knew it, it had been three days since I last had contact with Jongin. He came to my window near midnight and I was more than relieved to know that he still remembered me.

Luckily for him, my father had come home just in time to accompany my mom out of town for her monthly therapy session. They had left in the morning, silent; and didn't even have the heart to say goodbye to me. That was fine. I had enough to worry about.

Jongin and I both exchanged a wordless "hello" as soon as I drew the curtains to the sound of his tapping on my window. I grabbed my jacket before walking out the front door.

"No one's home?" was the first thing he asked.

I shook my head and gave him a small smile, hoping me would smile back, "No one's home."

Who was I kidding, Jongin was forever Jongin to me, whether he killed someone or not. Sure it was a lot to take in, but three long days of thinking of what to say were enough. I walked forward and wrapped my arms around his neck and I could feel him sigh. He grinned against my ear and wrapped his arms around my waist.

He held on tight, squeezing my stomach against his, neither of us with any thoughts of letting each other go.

"You don't hate me, do ya pretty?" he asked, his lips grazing over my shoulder.

"Nah," I replied, "How could I? I'm just sorry that I sat there without saying anything."

"What could I expect you to say?" Jongin whispered.

I let go of his embrace and stared into his dark eyes, "You were stupid but I know you're not that person anymore. It's not okay to cover up a murder but I still feel the same way about you. I trust you not to do the same thing again."

"You remembered," he grinned at me, looking genuinely surprised.

"Of course," I beamed up at him, proud of myself. We walked together in silence, our hands swinging together in rhythym. We ended up in father's boat again. It was like a haven. 

And, there was nowhere else secluded to sit down in the night.

"So my dad came home," I told him as he lay on the roof of the boat.

"How long was he gone for?" Jongin asked. His arm was under my neck and his thumb glided back and forth against my shoulder.

"Three weeks or so," I replied, "I don't know, I feel like everyone is lying to me, you know?"

"Everyone wears a mask, my dear."

"I don't believe him at all. He couldn't call us once?" I let out a sigh. I wanted to stop worrying about everything. I remember Miss Kwon telling me that one of the disadvantages of being young was either not worrying at all about things I should worry about and regretting it later ; or being hurt and affected by every little thing because of being a worrywart. Only once you get a little order do you find a happy medium. Or, mostly.

"Why are our lives so dramatic?" I let out a small laugh.

"I don't know, but we're not going to give up," Jongin turned his face towards mine and planted a soft kiss on my cheek that left me with a smile. I liked the sound of "we" lingering on his full, red lips.

"Ah, I just can't wait to get out of here-"

"Hana is that you?"

Jongin and I stared at each other at the sound of a muffled voice coming somewhere from the docks.

"Who is that?" Jongin whispered, eyebrows furowed. We both knew that if we abruptly stood up and hid, the old boat would flip over due to the sudden change of balance.

"Hana, that is you, right?" the voice came again, this time, closer. "It's me, Baek!"

"Why the hell is he even out this late?" Jongin snarled, but his brown eyes were twinkling with a glint of satisfied fearlessness.

"Should we-" I started.

Jongin covered my mouth, snickering, clearly amused, "Sh. Don't say anything."

My eyes grew wide, hearing Baekhyun's voice coming closer. He didn't know which boat was mine. Jongin and I stared at each other, waiting for Baekhyun's voice. Jongin seemed greatly entertained that he was looking for me at this time of night. "Wow, he must really like you," Jongin teased me about Baekhyun. I could tell that Jongin was looking down on him.

"Hey, Jongin," I warned, my voice muffled by his hand, "He's a nice guy."

"Oh, whatever. Want to go say hi to the smartass then?" Jongin tested with raised eyebrows.

I sighed.

Jongin forever had the same volatile personality and immature mentality after all these years. I didn't have anything against it, but truthfully, I shouldn't be surprised to hear anything about him getting into a lot of trouble back in Seoul. Jongin always had this arrogant air around him that made him seem as if he wanted to disdain others. I wasn't complaining, I found this side of him refreshing.

But sometimes, he took it too far. Especially when he got angry, or his jealousy got to his head.

In this case, I was making him angry and Baek was making him jealous.

"No, I just feel bad for him," I said. Jongin had taken his hand away from my mouth by now and I knew him well enough by now to know that he was trying not to act like he cared.

"Why? He's weird," he sneered.

"He's a good guy, Jongin, you don't even know him," I replied.

"So?" Jongin asked. He was sitting up on the boat roof by now, his legs halfway into the staircase that led to the inside of the boat.

"I swear, I hear you, Hana. I'm not going to hurt you or anything," Baekhyun shout a little louder, letting out a little chuckle.

Jongin stared at me as if he was asking what I was going to do with Baekhyun. He stared at me as if this was my fault.

"We don't need to do this right now, Jongin. He'll go away sooner or later," I said, trying to lay back down and look up at the stars. They were mostly covered by gray storm clouds.

"Fine, let's go say hi to little Baek," Jongin gave me a hard smile.

I silently protested as I followed Jongin down the ladder, I felt the old, fragile boat shaking under my feet. Since we were laying down, I didn't realize how much the wind was blowing, but now I could hear whistling and a cold draft fluttering through the million cracks in the ancient glass windows.

"He's gone," I stated, looking out the window and not seeing Baekhyun outside.

"God, I need a smoke," Jongin muttered, reaching into his pocket after a good minute of staring at each other.

"Wait, what? I thought you stopped..." My heart dropped into my stomach when I saw him reach into his back pocket and pull out a lighter and box.

"Well, I started again. I went though a lot of stress the last couple of days," He said nonchalantly. I watched as a bright red flame lit up the boat and transfered onto the cigarette. Jongin inhaled, taking a puff and let out the smoke through clenched teeth.

"Now. Where were we?" He asked, leaning against the boat tiller and fiddling with the cigarette.

I watched the smoke from the end of the cigarette disperse befoore shaking my head at him.

"What?"

"You told me that you stopped!" I couldn't help but be angry. If smoking was healthy , I would be open to him smoking all he wanted. However, I knew what it could do to the body and so did Jongin.

"I did but I started again. What's the big deal, baby?" Jongin stared at me as if I was freaking out over nothing. I didn't know how much more laid back they were in Seoul, but I absolutely hated the thought of Jongin smoking.

"When did you start again?" I demanded, wanting to get an answer as well as a breath of fresh, clean air.By now, the smoke was getting to my lungs and a massive head ache started to spread from the back of my skull. The rocking of the boat wasn't helping. I felt my heart beat accelerating but I was too pumped up to budge.

"As soon as I got back to Seoul," he replied, scratching the back of his head. Jongin looked down and took another smoke. Maybe my worried expression was making him feel guilty. I sure hoped so because it took all of me to push the thought of my aching throat and lungs dying for air to the back of my head.

He kept taking puffs and I was standing across from him, trying to stay strong. My eyes were watering up and with every puff he took, the more I wanted to gag.

Jongin must have realized something was wrong when I started to cough violently. I stared up at him through red, tearing eyes, the feeling of my throat swelling and getting smaller suffocating me. The black smoke from Jongin's cigarette lingering in the air was polluting my body.

"What are you doing?" Jongin stared at me, "Stop. It's not funny."

I couldn't say anything and I couldn't even find the strength to stumble out of the door. By now, I was on my knees, my throat completely closed up. My throat made terrible wheezing noises and the beat of my heart pounded loudly in my ear drums. My hands were clammy and my hair stuck to my face with beads of sweat. I felt as if Iwas on the verge of throwing up my intestines.

"Hana! STOP!" I could see the soles of Jongin's feet shifting uncomfortably, trying to decide if I was playing or not. My lungs felt as if they were going to burst out of my rib cage. I couldn't take it anymore.

My vision was going hazy and I could see Jongin's lit cigarette on the floor as he kneeled by my side.

I tried to shake my head, crying harder. Is this how I was going to die? I hadn't had an asthma attack in over 10 years. I didn't even have an inhaler and the closest hospital was at least twenty minutes away.

Jongin seemed desperate, trying to call the ambulance and calm me down. "What's wrong?" his voice echoed in my ear, "Why are you like this?"

That's when from the corner of my eye, I saw Jongin's cigarette catch on the floorboards of the boat.

I tried to say something but all of my senses were slowly fading away. I watched helplessly through my glassy, teared filled eyes as the cigarette lit up into a hundred flames and ignited the wooden planks on fire.

"Hana. Come on, pretty, breathe," Jongin ran his fingers through his hair, shouting through the phone.

"HANA!"

I heard my name being called various times more as I felt my eyes closing. I saw another pair of shoes that I recognized as Baekhyun's running up by my side.

My senses were all quickly fading away and my stomach felt as if it would collapse in pain every time I coughed. I could distantly hear Baekhyun screaming at Jongin. Asking how the fire happened and if I had my inhaler with me. Jongin was all so confused. I remembered that for some reason, I never got around to telling him that I had asthma.

The whole front of the ship had caught on fire by now and all Jongin could do was stand there in shock as Baekhyun pushed him out of the way and carried me off of the boat.

The last thing that I saw before my vision turned black was the boat going down in flames, the smoke filling the already dark sky with more pollution, and the wind carrying the flames towards the wooden docks.