Narrator’s POV

It has been two hours since they came inside the library, but neither of the two had noticed it. Hwayoung, who was sitting opposite Chanyeol, had her eyes glued to the book in her hand. She constantly read the passages that were imprinted on the creamy white pages of the seemingly interesting material.

“If not for the burden that has come upon my shoulders, the lavishly painted walls that made up my room would be nothing but a plain mess of colors that I wouldn’t even bother to look at,” she read, allowing her slender fingers to smooth out the crumpled ends of the page.

She lifted her head slowly, finally able to see that her companion had fallen into deep slumber. Patting his shoulder a bit, Hwayoung waited for the boy to shift in his position and give a sign that he was finally awake.

“Chanyeol, wake up,” she said, looking at the huge clock beside the door. The pendulum continuously swayed to and fro then finally rang, signaling that it was time for dinner. Hwayoung stood up, carrying the book in her hand as she went behind Chanyeol’s peacefully sleeping figure.

The man in the picture got her intrigued once more. Could two people with no relation to each other – or at least, that’s what she thinks – look not just similar, but identical? And then her gaze fell to the boy she had just named Chanyeol.

What was really his name? More questions flooded her mind, but she remembered how she disliked hearing her mother shout for her name in that high-pitched, piercing voice of hers. This time, she decided she, along with Chanyeol, would go down even before her mother could open to yell.

Fixing her dress, Hwayoung tied her hair into a messy bun before prodding the lad awake once again. “Ya, wake up. It’s dinner time. Let’s go down now,” Hwayoung repeated, poking the boy’s arm. But he was too lost in his own world of dreams to stir awake.

At this, Hwayoung rolled her eyes, still waiting for a response. And suddenly it made her wonder. Was she this boring that the guy had slept on her twice? Deciding it was not worth pondering about, the girl shrugged the thought off and tugged on the boy’s shirt instead. Once more, she tried to wake up the boy who was comfortably sleeping on the table. After a few more shakes and tugs, the boy whimpered, as if it was his own way of yawning.

“Let's go. Omma might be looking for us already,” ordered Hwayoung, waiting as the boy trailed behind her. She clutched the book tightly in her hand before leaving the library with Chanyeol towing after her. Going down the stairs, Hwayoung made sure every step she took was careful and she was keen on just keeping it that way.

But she failed to notice that two steps before she reached the ground, there was a sock that must have fallen from when her mother carried the laundry up the stairs.

The moment she felt herself falling, Hwayoung closed her eyes in a flash. She let herself fall. The idea of holding onto something to save herself never occurred in her mind. She only waited for the collision of her body against the floor and for the pain to come spreading as unbearable heat.

It felt like flying, falling was. The only difference was that in flying, the direction is endless. In falling, though, the only way is to go down. And everything that falls, gets broken. Maybe the boy knew it, because he spun himself around, being the first one to fall down the staircase instead of the girl. It all happened in almost a millisecond, as if the boy had understood the laws of gravity and defied them all.

“Chanyeol?” she spoke softly after getting over the sudden shock that had washed all over her. Hwayoung opened her eyes slowly. She felt her body frozen and still in place, now realizing that she was lying down on the cold ground. Hearing the sudden collision, Mijeong rushed from the kitchen towards the stairs only to gasp at the scene that welcomed her.

“What just happened here?!” she exclaimed, panicking at the sight of Chanyeol, whose long arms were protectively wrapped around Hwayoung’s head and waist, lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. He was a good shock absorber, receiving most of the impact of the fall.

Both Hwayoung and Mijeong would have thought right there and then that any minute after the fall, the floor would be drenched in blood, but nothing of that type happened. So Hwayoung, who has now snapped out of the trance that took over her, stared at the boy who had saved her. His closed eyes were enough to make her go berserk, worried, and out of her mind, though she wouldn’t admit that right at that moment.

“Ya,” she called out, scared that Chanyeol wouldn’t respond. Trying to stay as optimistic as she can, she stayed trapped against the lad’s arms and continued to stare at his face. The pessimistic side of her started to eat her up. He was immobile and hasn’t even whimpered at all to indicate his pain. Neither did he shout. This doubled the worry that was already seeping in Hwayoung’s veins.

She leaned against the boy’s chest, waiting to hear if his heart was still beating and it was. His even breathing resounded and she felt sweat trickling down her forehead as she waited for his reaction. And just when she was about to give up, he opened his eyes and propped his elbow onto his sides, supporting both of their weight.

The lad then stood up, bending his back a little like he usually does, and carried Hwayoung to make her sit properly. Mijeong watched everything in amusement, deciding not to do anything as her daughter intently stared at Chanyeol.

“Are you alright?” Hwayoung asked, her voice shaking. Pouting a little, the boy stared at Hwayoung while he rubbed the back of his head. She didn’t understand what he was trying to imply. Therefore, she touched his head and tried to look for any forming lump in his head. He grabbed her wrist, which earned him a puzzled look from her, and gently directed it on the right side of his head. She felt the lump in there. It wasn’t serious, but it felt tender.

He winced after her fingers pressed on the lump. “Mianhae,” she whispered and checked to see if he had any wounds or bruises. She brushed his hair away from his face and only then had she realized how long his hair was. “Aigoo. We’ll have to do something about your hair tomorrow,” she muttered. For the meantime, she loosened her hair from the bun and used the rubber band to keep his hair in place.

“You look nicer now,” Hwayoung commented with a smile. Then she held Chanyeol by his forearm and helped him stand up. “Dinner’s ready,” Mijeong reminded and scurried off to the dining table. The girl, meanwhile, turned to look at the boy. “Let’s go.” She clasped his arm tighter and both took their respective seats.

Hwayoung’s father came in not long after. He and Mijeong sat at the opposite ends of the table, given their authority inside the household. “Since you saved me today, here,” Hwayoung said while transferring half of what was on her plate to Chanyeol for him to eat. In joy, the boy grinned widely. He munched on almost everything, as if he could not decide which one to eat first, thus creating a mess on the table. The family ate silently, with the exception of Chanyeol, of course, who growled if the food hasn’t reached his mouth yet and chewed with his mouth open.

The girl didn’t mind though. Without her knowing it, she was slowly warming up to the thought of having the lad in their home for a long period of time.