Little had I known that the entire eight months that I’d been battling my feelings for Key, Jonghyun had also been struggling with an equal temptation for a fellow teacher at his school who had taken interest in him. Her name was Taeyeon, he’d said, after finally confessing it to me. Lee Taeyeon. He was in love with her, he said—real love, not the friendship-based love that we’d somehow convinced ourselves was enough to sustain a marriage. He even had a picture of her in his wallet, which he’d slid it in between two other pictures in order to hide it. When he showed it to me, I couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy. She was beautiful, of course; beautiful and fair-skinned and armed with a killer smile. I pushed down my desire to hate her, realizing the irony in it, but for so long Jong had been “mine” to whatever definition, and it was only now that we mutually found other people to take the place that I felt like I was losing something very important. Even still, I felt like I was losing my best friend—but not my husband.

           I spent most of my time at the hospital, both as a way to avoid the emptiness of my apartment now that Jonghyun had moved out, but also to stay by Kibum’s side as much as possible, never losing hope that he would wake up. Selfishly, I wanted to be the first thing he saw when he did. Selfishly, I wanted him to hurry up and tell me the things himself that my ex-fiancée had managed to do for him. Over the passing weeks, I got to know his grandmother a little; a sweet lady with a fiery temperament that matched her grandson’s. She would come in the early mornings and sit on the recliner by the window, where she would work on the rainbow-colored scarf she was knitting for him, and I would watch, hypnotized, as her thick weatherworn fingers danced with the needles.  

            Jong came to visit periodically, and we always had nice words to exchange. In fact, we talked more now than before it all happened, as if a giant burden had been released from us. We made a pledge to attempt to laugh at least three times every day, because it was a thing we mutually believed Key would want to hear—he would want to know that we were not upset. We wanted to make him feel like he could come back to find all complications had passed; that we were all right—that we were happy…

             Time passed slowly this way, the wedding date come and gone, but in truth I was just content to find that I had one more day with him each time I came to his hospital room to find him sleeping that quiet, desperate sleep. He was my sleeping beauty, I would joke when we were alone, and I would often sing these words to him while I washed his face and combed his hair.  I tried to keep him as kempt as possible—I knew he would want it that way.

            “When you wake up, you’re gonna have to fix all the stuff I tried to do,” I said one day as I cleaned and filed his nails. I was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hand in mine as I groomed his long, soft fingers. “But I know you’d be so upset if I let you go completely…” I laughed to myself. I was used to having one-sided conversations by now.

         “You take good care of my Kibum,” I heard just then. It took me wholly by surprise; I thought we were alone, and I hadn’t expected halmunee until the next morning.

            I greeted her politely. “Oh… well, I know he would prefer to look nice at all times,” I chuckled somewhat nervously.

            “Yes, that is true,” she said, giving me her characteristically warm smile.

            “Are you going to work on your scarf today, halmunee?”

            “Oh no, my dear. I’m on my third one, you know, but just finished it yesterday.”

            “He will never be cold,” I grinned.

            “No, he has many things to keep him warm, I see.”

            I blushed, wondering what her full meaning was, but too afraid to ask.

            “Kibum’s birthday is next week,” she continued. “Wouldn’t it be something if he woke up that morning to find he’d aged a whole year?”

            It was a bittersweet thought: next Sunday would mark the day he was born, twenty-four years before, but it would also mark a new year—he’d gone to sleep as a twenty-three year old, had held onto life for months, fighting that invisible fight that we could not see from the outside, and it was our every hope that he would wake up before another year passed him by… 

             I gently laid his hand back down against his side and stood to my feet. “I hope he wakes up before then,” I say quietly before looking down at him again. “It’s sad to think that he has aged so much in this bed.”       

            “Child, don’t tell me about age,” she quipped in that fiery way of hers that I recognized all too well. “You don’t have to worry about that. He’ll just be happy enough to find he’s been cared for into his next year by a very devoted nurse.”

            I blushed again. She really hadn’t said these things before; when we talked, it was never in a way that connected Kibum and I together. But now, it seemed she had paired us as a couple in her mind. How could I even begin to explain that Key and I were only friends? I didn’t think she’d believe it, even if I tried. 

            “I’ll be going now,” I finally resolved to say. I had to get some rest anyway; I had pulled a second shift at the boutique in order to cover the cost of rent now that Jonghyun had moved in with Taeyeon.

            “All right, my dear. See you soon.”

            I bowed politely.

            “And don’t you worry—I’ll make sure ‘sleeping beauty’ is well taken care of while his princess is away…”

* * *

            Who knows how she did it—predicted such a wild thing such as that, even remotely. Sunday came and went; I had come early, bringing fresh flowers and a small cake that halmunee and I shared on his behalf. I didn’t mean to fall asleep there after she left; I was posted by the side of the bed as always, cupping my small hand around his larger one, but for some reason I felt especially emotional as the midnight hour came, marking the passing of his birthday, and after my crying bout passed with it, fell into an exhaustive sleep. I woke to the pressure against my hand—a light pressure, but a pressure nonetheless, and since I was unused to reciprocated touch in this place, the sensation rather shocked me; it took me awhile to regain a lucid state, especially once I saw my own reflection in the glossiness of Kibum’s eyes...

           His eyes—they were open! I could see Key’s eyes! I shot up, startled and confused. “Key!” I all but yelled, a distorted, weepy panic escaping my mouth.

            I could tell that he was struggling for words; it was like he’d forgotten how to speak, how to express anything at all. I wanted desperately to hold him but dared not move him. And how bad I wanted to kiss those lips that I had tried so hard to keep from chapping over the past months as a way to memorialize this awakening—to validate its legitimacy, to feel that this was not a dream but a very real, blessed reality.

            “R…” was all he could manage after a considerable effort. The corners of his mouth weakly curled as he attempted a smile.

            “Kibum, Kibum…!” I kept repeating as the warm tears fell down my cheeks. His name never felt so good to utter as in that moment of his understanding of it. I never doubted that he could hear it before, but now—now he could answer. He could answer…

            “You… you’ve been waiting for me… so long,” he trailed. His eyes were soft, his breathing sparse but alive. Alive. 

            I bent down and placed my lips on his. In that moment, I didn’t care about decorum or right from wrong. It wasn’t a lecherous attempt, but a pure and unadulterated expression of my heart to his. I had to solidify this moment: the happiest moment of my life. My sleeping prince was awake. 

* * *

            There was so much to fill him in on, and we spent hours going over every single detail of every topic that came to his mind. He had an inexhaustible curiosity, but also a hard time remembering many of the things we’d already discussed, so I would tell him again over the course of the weeks as if it were new information.

            “Is the wedding close now? Did I miss it?”

            “No, Kibummie, you didn’t miss it,” I’d say again and again, each time watching his lips turn into a smile.

            “I’m glad I didn’t miss it… you need your best man, right?”

            “I definitely need you,” I say somewhat smugly. “But you needn’t worry about the wedding, Key. There isn’t going to be one.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Don’t you remember? Jong and I are not getting married.”

            He seemed disappointed in himself. “What! Why? Why can’t I remember this!”

            I was busy grooming the flowers on the table aside his bed. They were from Jonghyun—and Taeyeon, whom he’d never met. I hadn’t met her either, but it seemed she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Not with the latest news of their engagement.

            “Actually,” I said without turning around, “there’s going to be another wedding that I’m sure you’ll be invited to…”

            “Oh?”

            “Jong met someone, Key. They’re getting married next spring.”

            “What! He cheated on you?!”

            I couldn’t resist a laugh. “Of course not! You know him better than that. Jonghyun isn’t a cheater.”

            “Then… how?”

            “How did he meet someone else? I think he had her in mind for quite awhile, but it wasn’t ’till you guys talked that things became… more clear.”

            “I don’t understand… what did we talk about? I don’t understand what happened…”

            “You really don’t remember anything?”

            Key shook his head. “Raina… how long have I been sleeping?”

            “Too long, Kibum. Too long.”

            “And you stayed with me all this time?”

            I made my way over to the bed and sat next to him. It was a comfortable spot that I was used to. “Of course I did.”

            “Why?”

            “What do you mean, why?”

            “I mean… why did you do this? Why do you care about me so much?”

            “Pfft. You’re just fishing for compliments. Isn’t it enough that you have a private nurse here nearly full-time?” I laughed. “Does she need to flatter you on top of everything else?” My answer seemed to summon a slight smile from him, and I squeezed his hand in mine. “You should rest now,” I directed. “I’ll be back in this evening, okay? I have to go.”

            “Okay.”

            “You have to get better, you know.”

            “Okay…”

            “Because there’s something really important I need to ask you.”

            “Is there?”

            “Yes. But only once you can remember… I need you to remember the things you told Jong first.”

            “What if I said I did…?”

            “Do you?”

            “I don’t know… maybe.” He blushed a little.

            “Well, then I’d say you’ve been lying to me,” I teased.

            “Ask me anyway; the thing you’re wanting to…”

            “Do you know what it is already?”

            “I don’t know… maybe,” he repeated. He smiled again, this time more confidently than before.

            “What do you think I’m going to say?”

            “That’s no fun—you need to say it yourself.”

            “I think you’re feeling better, Kibummie,” I chuckled. “You seem just as mischievous as ever.”

            “Well, then you should go ahead and say whatever it was you were putting off for so long…”

            “I guess it doesn’t matter if it’s embarrassing, since you’re just going to forget it anyway…”

            “Raina, you can be so mean. Tell me.”

            “I’ll be back,” I repeated with a solid smile, attempting to slide my arm back, but he grabbed my hand suddenly and said: “Please. Please ask me it, Raina. I promise I’ll remember.”

            Something in his eyes had changed, and I could tell that he was serious. We weren’t playing anymore. “Key…” I whispered, but his solid glance was unfaltering.

            “Ask me. Ask me anything…”

            It wasn’t the timing I had anticipated, but looking at him like this now—so helpless, so entreating and beautiful—I couldn’t bring myself to deny him. “Kibum,” I started shakily.

            “Yes?”

            “Be my boyfriend.”

            “What?”

            “Be my boyfriend,” I repeated, recalling the words he had said to Jonghyun many years ago, wondering how he would recieve them. He didn't remember the kiss I'd given him weeks before. He didn't remember most things. So, how was it possible that he would remember this? I didn't even know if he would remember saying them once himself...

            “You nerd,” he replied through a soft smile, his eyes still locked with mine. “That wasn’t even a question.”