Credits go to kurogane, for this amazing poster.

[Ten. Let's Pick Flowers and Not Pick Fights]

After reluctantly bidding goodbye to Seunghyun, who had offered to drive her home, Dara sighed heavily as she headed to the elevator that would lead her to face Jiyong. Bom had been dropping obvious hints that she would like to be driven home by Seunghyun as well, but Seunghyun didn’t offer to, so she ended up pouting as she left with Youngbae, shooting Dara the helpless “Oh-Gosh-Can-This-Guy-Be-Any-More-Dense” look. Getting driven by Seunghyun wasn’t as that exciting anyway, she wanted to tell Bom but decided against it as it may be the wrong move; Bom might just chuck her 8-inch high heels at her in exasperation. After all, Seunghyun is quite nice, and if it gets around that one of the rare people he actually opens up to thinks he’s “not that exciting”, it may create some havoc, not to mention hurt his feelings. He had been really attentive on the ride, inquiring which station or music she preferred (they settled with a classical Bach CD, figures) and making casual small talk about themselves. Or rather, just Dara. He was like a gentleman version of Jiyong, except much more boring. Tch, stop emphasizing boring! Dara shouted at herself, cringing slightly for making Seunghyun sound so bad inside her head. What was up with her anyway? Why was she comparing Jiyong to everything and everyone these days?

The strange thing was, Dara was not much of a talker either, but when she was with Seunghyun, she realizes that Seunghyun is the same...except much more conservative. He never talks about himself, at least nothing directly related to him, like family, friends, interests. He did talk about how he “enjoys” playing violin, and “does some reading”, but somehow it sounds flat and hallow to Dara, as if they were not truly interests, but random things to do to pass time. How strange. Perhaps he had zero friends, since he’s (quote Bom) “practically a breathing god in the form of a Calvin Klein model-ish body” and stays distant from everyone like a celebrity on campus. However, he had to have family, but he did not seem to want to talk about them, so Dara didn’t push it too far, thinking that there were certain things that people did not feel comfortable saying. Dara heard that they were famous musicians or at least involved in the music business. Lucky him. Although Byul is supportive of her dreams, she never actually caught on the difference between A minor and D major. Sometimes Dara wished there was something in the family who understood music and had a passion for it like she did.

For some reason, Jiyong’s face popped into her head, as well as the conversation she had earlier with Professor Yang. Now that she had given some thoughts on the matter, how was it possible that someone from the law department could make Professor Yang interested? There was no reason for him to be investing so much hope into a law student, even if it happened to be the university principal’s son. Then again, Professor Yang, someone with strong principle and values, does not have a reason to lie. That could only mean that he was telling the truth. So Jiyong is really a musical genius? Despite her strong dislike for Jiyong, she could not help but become intrigued at his skills. Is he truly as amazing as Professor Yang suppose he is?

Humming to herself the new melody she had stuck in her head, she tried to find possible case scenarios in her head that might happen once she opens the door. Jiyong may just pounce on her, cry a river or two about how he’s miserable that Dara had been mistreating him, and throw in a threat to call Byul to tattletale. Oh yes, that was definitely a likely possibility. She had already came up with half a tale to explain to Byul patiently over the phone about how it’s normal that siblings fight once in a while...

Before she could even insert the key into the hole, the door magically flew opened. “Noona!” Jiyong shouted gleefully as he threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly. He had changed out of the clothes he wore at school, and settled for a leopard-print top and tight jeans that showed off his lean legs. Once again, Dara’s brain became as mobile as tofu in front of Jiyong. Luckily for them (Dara, for the fact that she does not have to come up with a reason why she actually liked it; Jiyong, for the fact that he did not linger long enough to make Dara remember that she was supposed to hate his guts), Jiyong let go quickly and continued to yap on a thousand miles per minute. “Why did you not return my text? I was worried to death, thinking that something happened to you. I was going to pick you up, but didn’t want to make you angry, so I didn’t, but I was still very worried. While I was waiting for you, I decided to make dinner. Maybe I should’ve called you to ask you what you wanted, but I didn’t want to make you feel annoyed, so I just settled for Thai. Can’t go wrong with Thai. Who doesn’t like Thai? Erm, you do like Thai food, right?” He peered at the slightly shocked Dara who had not spoken a syllable since she stepped into the apartment. Couldn’t blame her, since Jiyong’s voice filled each inch of air. Snapping out of it, Dara realized that there were several dishes of enticing Thai food on the living room table. She even spotted her favorites: yam woon sen and pad thai. They looked so impeccably perfect, the right color of red, green, and yellow with fresh cilantro. It looked as if it was cut and paste on from a professional’s cook book. He made that?

There were several things she could’ve asked, like how he knew they were her favorites (How could he know yam woon sen!? Even Byul doesn’t know how to pronounce that, let alone the fact that it’s my favorite Thai dish!) or why he did this, but the only thing she could muster was, “Oh.” No wonder Jiyong’s face immediately displayed how crestfallen he was.

“That’s all you have to say, noona? ‘Oh’? You could’ve at least said something else like, ‘Wow, dongsaeng, how do you know how to cook?’ or ‘Oh my, isn’t that sweet of you, dongsaeng!’. Sheesh.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he playfully pushed Dara on the plush couch. The brief physical contact felt like electricity to Dara, but Jiyong seemed unaffected. “But, being the utmost understanding and psychic dongsaeng I am, I shall answer the questions you’re thinking. Why did I cook? Because I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

He doesn’t mean it, was the first thing that crossed Dara’s mind. Her skeptical gaze must’ve gotten the message across to Jiyong, because he stopped talking and sighed.

“I’m being dead serious here, noona. I knew I had been putting a lot of pressure on you for, you know,-“ he seemed a bit embarrassed, to Dara’s surprise”-liking you and expecting you to like me back. Some of my actions were not acceptable, and I want to apologize for that. From now on, I’ll follow whatever you say, and act like the adorable dongsaeng you wanted. No strings attached.” This was way too good to be true in Dara’s ears. It was like a genie coming out of the lamp saying that she can have all the wishes in the world for free. Knowing Jiyong, there’s got to be a catch. There has just got to be...”Of course, I want you to be nice to me, like the caring noona you said you would be, and teach me things for the Masterpiece of the Year without feeling like you have to endure my existence. The point is, we should start afresh, put everything behind us, and seriously try to be like a family. Byul and Dongwook are making an effort to pull this family together, and we should do our part as well.”

It was not like Jiyong, it just wasn’t. Dara observed Jiyong quietly for a few minutes, and he met her gaze, not seeming to hide anything. His eyes seem sincere...at least, that’s what Dara thinks as she shyly break their gaze that was becoming way too intense for her liking, and instead concentrated on the plate of inviting pad thai. Perhaps he was a bit sorry for how upset he made her. Perhaps he had come to his senses. They had gotten off to a wrong start from the very beginning, but it was not entirely his fault. Who was she to not give this guy a second chance? They were going to live under the same roof for quite a while, why not try to get along? And wasn’t this sounding like what she wanted from the beginning?

Then why was Dara feeling so disappointed at him? It was nearly as if she had actually enjoyed the feeling of being pestered by Jiyong all the time about how much he’s in love with her, puppy eyes included. It does not make sense at all. Shaking those unnerving thoughts aside, Dara smiled slightly and nodded, earning Jiyong’s grin. “OK, apology accepted...dongsaeng. Why are we eating in the living room?”

“To watch a movie together while we eat,” Jiyong sang out, clicking the remote control as he sat down on the soft rug, pleased with the results. As he flipped through the channels aimlessly, Dara, making up her mind to stop being a stuck-up and try to be friends with Jiyong, sat down on the rug with him, sitting Indian-styled, and picked up a fork, spooning some of the food into . She was not certain if Jiyong was a genius musician or not, but she was positive that he was fantastic at cooking.

How odd. Since when do guy driving white Bentleys and working part-time in clubs wearing tuxes-not to mention, studies law at the best university in Seoul-know how to cook perfect Thai food? That was just...strange.

“How do you know how to cook such good stuff?” Dara looked at Jiyong curiously.

“I just do.” Jiyong shrugged, earning a frown from Dara as she downed some of the Thai milk tea. Such goodness too.

“Ok...then how did you get to work at YG Club?”

“Someone introduced me.” Someone was not being talkative today...Or rather, being secretive on purpose. Or, hiding something.

“You still work there?”

“Yeah.” During the entire exchange of words, Jiyong’s eyes never left the huge TV screen. And this was the guy who had not been able to leave her side, even clinging on to her leg, for the past months, Dara had trouble convincing herself. Giving up trying to get to know any more information from Jiyong’s mouth, she turned her gaze towards the windows. Smelling the hint of rain coming, Dara shuddered subconsciously. The skies dipped with gray indicated that a storm is coming, darkening even quicker as night fell upon the city, making the city lights even brighter, reflecting in Dara’s orbs. The rare streak of orange and pink faded under the cover of gray clouds.

“You’re cold....noona?” Jiyong finally paid attention to her, concerned. Dara absentmindedly shook her head. Sometimes she liked the peaceful serenity the rain brings, bu