Present.

To this day, I still like sticking to routines in my life. I get up at the same time, trudge to the shower with bleary eyes and, after I've washed, make tea while reading the newspaper.

Actually, nowadays, reading the newspaper makes my heart ache a little. I know I don't really have a right to feel anything at all, but I can't help but steal a longing look at the folded newspaper on the table as I make my tea.

I fetch it every morning, of course, but sometimes I don't read it.

I sigh; it looks like the paper will go unopened today, too.

Sure, every now and then, I write for newspapers here and there, but some days, I'm just too tired of looking through the black and white print, knowing what I'll find and how it'll make me feel−always the same thing, every time.

I guess routines aren't so great when your feelings follow the same patterns, too.

***

March 28

Last year

When I wake up, I bolt straight out of bed, my feet almost slipping on the foggy floors.

I would have ran right into the closed bathroom door, had I not stopped when I heard something.

I backtrack a couple of steps, walking over to the window. It's raining, again− the familiar sound of pattering on glass had reached my ears before the sight of the white sheets of water did.

Yesterday, when I'd woken up and was greeted with this same sight and sound, I'd groaned and flopped back down onto bed for another five minutes.

But today, I push my hair back excitedly, even though it's not even in my eyes. The sight makes me smile, and I turn to tell Yoona that it's raining, but she isn't there.

I remember that she'd said she'd be taking the bus today, and I'm renewed with a fresh sense of purpose.

Though before I redirect my course back to the bathroom,  I stare out at the rain for a few more moments.

It reminds of sunshine, coffee stained serviettes and white gloves.

My smile widens.

Yoona is already there, same time as yesterday, by the time I arrive, puffing out shallow pants as I round the corner and reach the bus stop.

"You're here!" I exclaim.

She smiles, her eyes crinkling. "Of course," she says. "I said I would be, didn't I?"

I'm about to reply, but then I notice that something about her is different.

My eyes fall onto her attire and I realise what it is. The way she's dressed now is a complete 180 from her simple sweater and jeans outfit from yesterday.

She's wearing a light pink dress, white gloves and a fancy, wide brimmed hat; she looks like she's on her way to attend a wedding.

"Where are you going?"

Her eyes follow my line of sight and she looks down, as if she isn't aware of what she's wearing. "Oh, this?" She looks back up at me and shrugs. "I'm still going to the seaside."

"In that?"

She sighs. "I have lunch with my family afterwards," she explains. "It's... quite a formal affair."

"I see." I smile and take a seat next to her. My breath catches a little when I fully realise just how beautiful she is, even though her face is twisted in a slight pout. If anything, it only makes her cuter. "You don't sound too happy about that."

"That obvious, huh?"

"This must really be something if it's bothering you," I say, and though my tone is light, I regard her with serious concern. "Dysfunctional family?"

She snorts. "You could say that."

My eyes pass over her fleetingly. I would never have guessed that she, of all people, would have family problems. Someone like her, someone as cheerful as her, certainly doesn't deserve anything less than the best.

Then again, I think she's lucky to have family. I'd give anything for my family back.

I can't think of anything to say,  so I offer her my arm and nod towards the coffee shop. "Coffee to drown out your sorrows?"

Her smile returns−and I swear it stops raining for a moment and the sun shines a little brighter− as she takes my arm.

Later, on the bus, she fiddles with her bracelets and gloved fingers as she looks out the window. Not even the sight of the rain seems to enlighten her.

She hasn't taken off her hat, either.

The cafe−along with the light hearted conversations, and the sharing of philosophical thoughts and personal beliefs− that we have just left behind seems far away now, in this stifling silence.

I don't attempt to start a conversation because I can tell that she doesn't want to talk. In the end, I just stare out of the window, at the rain, and wish that I knew what to do.

I can tell she's upset. But about what?

The other passengers on the bus occasionally steal sidelong glances at us, and I realise that we look like such a mismatched pair− she looks like a princess, and I look like a college student in my jeans and thick framed glasses, even though I'm long past those years of my life.

Unexpectedly, Yoona presses the button at the next stop, the one just before mine, and gets to her feet as the bus slows down. "Actually, on second thought, I'll skip the seaside today," she murmurs, and I can't tell whether she's talking to herself or me.

Her hand shoots out and grips mine suddenly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Luhan," she says. "Tomorrow"−at this, she squeezes my fingers slightly−"okay?"

I nod numbly, unable to say anything else. Something like anxiety flashes in her eyes, but I don't ask, because I know she doesn't want to tell me; if she did, I would already know by now.

"Okay," is all I say. There's a silent promise in my words.

The bus comes to a complete halt and I'm left to watch her get off the bus. I raise my hand in a half-hearted wave and she gives me a small smile in return.

I wonder if she has an umbrella with her.

Just as the doors come to a close, the old man in the seat across from me leans over with a frantic air about him, distracting me from the sight of Yoona's retreating back out the window. "Son," he says. "She's beautiful. Don't let her go."

I smile at the stranger softly, thinking briefly that it must look no different from the smile Yoona had given me only moments ago.

"She's not mine," I tell him, in a voice just as soft as my expression.

By the time I finish saying that, when I look out the window, I can't see any sign of her.

All I see is rain.

***

A/N: Confusing so far, I know xD But you'll see what happens/happened to Yoona soon enough ^^

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