Mina's POV

"Why, what do you want to do?" Donghae's words back at the bus stop echoed in my head. Right now, I wanted to tell him. I want someone to kiss me on the forehead and tell me he's lucky to have me. Instead of opening my mouth and telling him that, I scratched my head instead. I never made any smart decisions at all.

Yet it happened. Donghae happened. Or maybe it was an accident. When he held my face and kissed my forehead that time while we were eating, I knew for sure he was a mind-reader. And instead of telling me he was lucky to have me, Donghae held my face ever so gently. Could a person as imperfect as I am get more than what she bargained for?

If that wasn't enough, he held my hand after we finished eating and headed to the theaters. And sometimes, I think affection is too much. He holds my hand and it feels as if he's breaking my knuckles, crushing the bones of my fingers in overwhelming warmth. He looks at me and as if a knife pierces my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs.

And even as I stood there in the middle of the theater while waiting for Donghae to buy tickets to a movie I didn't even see the title of, I was still holding onto my own capacity to breathe properly. It was as if my entire being forgot to function all by itself without Donghae around. Or maybe it was Jaejoong I was missing. Or maybe neither.

"How old is she?" the lady asked, her hands in the middle of tearing the ticket for a movie meant for the legal-aged.

Min-guk looked at the sixteen-year-old me nervously. "She's 19!" he exclaimed a little too loudly. "Are you insulting my...my girlfriend?! Does she look small? Because I don't think so!"

As a result of his outburst, the woman looked like she didn't know what to do to calm him down. "Please, sir, I didn't mean anything like that."

"No, you just insulted my girlfriend..." he continued while I turned my back on the commotion before cringing. My stomach nearly churned from his words. "Do you want me to call your manager?!" Min-guk threatened.

I yanked his arm. "Don't you think you're going too far?" I whispered to him through gritted teeth. Turning to the ticket taker, "It's nothing. We'll just go inside now," I said with a forced smile. Slowly, we backed away and finally entered the theater. When we were out of earshot, "YOUR GIRLFRIEND? REALLY?" I smacked his head harshly.

He stumbled up the path leading to the theater. "WHAT? At least I got you in. And to think, I even skipped classes just for this..." Min-guk mumbled while rubbing the back of his head.

"That's no problem to you. You're smart," I muttered. "What about omma–"

Min-guk wound his arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry about that. I'd tell her it was all my idea and you just go straight to your room, arasseo?"

"Ani–"

"Ani, ani~" the man mocked. "No more buts. Let's just sit back and relax and watch people get killed in 3D."

Sighing slightly, I would have given everything to have him by my side again. "Penny for your thoughts?" Donghae interrupted. I raked a hand through my hair and shook my head no. He held my hand – enough for me to die a thousand times – and pulled me to the theater. The sudden gust of cold wind caught me off guard.

"You're cold?" Donghae asked, noticing how my hands shook.

Before we could even take a seat, he had already shrugged off his jacket and wore it on my shoulders. The opening credits began rolling as soon as we decided on our seats. He sat awfully close, or maybe it was me who was at fault. But nevertheless, his scent filled my lungs and I let myself drown on the smell.

Beside me, I heard Donghae laugh. "What did you mean by it?" he asked and turned to me.

I glanced at him with my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "By what?"

He kept his gaze sternly on my face. "About a week ago, when you came for your appointment, you talked about your impression of me," he explained.

I bit my lip and looked away quickly. "Really?"

"Hmm." Donghae nodded, his tone almost teasing. "You said I smelled like my mother did my laundry and like I wanted you to want me and inhale me so deeply that you'll forget how to breathe." Blood rushed immediately to my face, even to my ears, tinting them a light shade of red, which I hoped was unnoticeable inside the dark theater. "Did that mean I smell bad or...?"

This time, it was my turn to laugh. "It's not that."

The man nodded to himself, perhaps contented with my statement. We focused on the film, which was in French with Korean subtitles at the bottom of the screen. Donghae was intently watching and murmuring comments here and there. I clutched his jacket tighter and noticed how there were only a handful of people watching.

"I didn't know what you wanted to watch, so I just chose this one. If you don't like it, we can go–" Donghae explained and prepared to stand up.

I held onto his arm. "I get it, actually," I said with a smile. "I used to watch films and documentaries like this one before with..."

"With?" Donghae returned to his seat.

Looking down and playing with my fingers nervously, "With Min-guk," I responded. I could feel Donghae watching me, scrutinizing my expression. "He always wanted to be a doctor. And he made me promise that I would be his nurse." I faced him, but not even dare to look him in the eyes. He would just pity me if I cried.

I smiled. "But then as I told you, my finger landed on the wrong degree. And so I ended up going to a different career. Min-guk didn't mind, though," I nearly choked up. "In fact, he never got mad at me for anything. My mother said he was just spoiling me. But he didn't listen to her. He never did, anyway." I laughed.

My tears threatened to fall and I saw Donghae's hand creep up. But I stared at it. I stared his hand down until he got the message that I didn't want to be comforted at the moment. "Just look at the screen, Donghae," I ordered. Being overly stubborn, he didn't. "Just look anywhere but me," I nearly pleaded, knowing my self-control won't last long.

When he finally turned his attention back to the screen, I heard him sigh. As if on cue, a drop of tear trickled down my cheek. "He said that after he finished schooling, passed the licensure exam, and found a job with a good pay, he would live separately and bring me with him," I continued. "He doesn't understand why our mother never liked me as much as she liked him."

"But I knew. And you know it too, Donghae." I threw him a quick glance. "I'm not good enough for anything. And Min-guk was. He was a player in his high school football team, a consistent student on the honor roll, and the number of people who liked him was equal to the number of his hair strands. And I was just...me."

"Because my brother was the best, our mother wanted me to be like him," I said. When I remembered what happened next, my head fell against Donghae's shoulder where nearly three months of holding it all in wore away. "When he received the licensure exam results and he failed, Min-guk hung himself in his room."

Donghae turned to look at me, his expression shocked. "I told you not to look at me," I reminded, and his head immediately snapped back in place. But his arms s around me, despite the arm rest separating us in between. "Maybe he felt sorry, because failing his exam meant that he wouldn't be able to get me out of the hell we lived in."

"I called 911, but there was nothing they could do. There was nothing I could do. And so I sat there, just staring at him hanging from the ceiling. And I thought, if only I had just gone home as soon as classes ended, I would have stopped him. Or...or...I would have convinced him it wasn't such a big deal. Because of me, Min-guk's gone. My brother was everything I had. He's gone now. He's–"

"Shh." Stubborn as he was, Donghae pulled me into his arms. "I'm here, Mina." He ran his hand up and down my back comfortingly. "I'm here." Pushing me away by my shoulders to look at him, his hands went up to either side of my face. Before I could even blink, he already inched closer and pressed his lips against mine.

Wide-eyed and aghast, I froze, not knowing what to do. My tear stained cheeks dried up under his touch and with his warmth, I could have easily melted too. I breathed in what he breathed out, relishing how sweetly and fully it had filled my lungs. Donghae had his eyes closed and I didn't know the reason behind it.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, perhaps satisfied. Donghae looked at me with those brown eyes whose depths reached infinitely. "I'm in love with you," he admitted softly.

I only blinked back at him, too stunned to say anything because, apparently, I don’t know how to react after my first kiss.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I check my phone every minute to see if you called or you sent me a message when I only used my phone before as an accessory. I try to look good when I didn't give a damn about how I looked like before. I smile all of a sudden for no reason," he said and took a deep breath. "I love you," Donghae repeated. "And that's where everything began."

Tearing up again once more, I wiped my hands harshly against my jeans and turned to the man, only to wipe his mouth using the back of my hand. "You have to take it back. You have to take all of it back. Tell me you were just kidding. You didn't mean it. You just feel sorry for me. I look pitiful and you just feel bad for me."

Donghae shook his head and grabbed my wrists. "I mean it. I'm in love with you, Mina."

Crying now, "You can't say that. Something's wrong with me, and no one can love me when I can't even love myself," I argued, still getting rid of any trace from his lips that we ever kissed. "Donghae, please don't be like that." I shook my head disapprovingly. "You were just kidding, right?" I searched his eyes for an explanation. "RIGHT?!"

"Mina..." He sighed, letting my hands go. "I'm not expecting you to say something back, just...just believe me."

"I can't." I took his jacket off my shoulders and returned it to him.

I was about to stand up and leave, but he held onto my hand. "Why not?" he asked almost sadly.

Sinking back to my seat, "Because I was about to say something back," I reasoned. Donghae looked at me, his expression a combination of confusion and shock and hope. "I can't believe everything you told me because I think I feel the same way!" I said angrily. "And I can't. I don't want to. I shouldn't."

"'Why not?' Because I will cling to you. I will always want to hear your voice. I will always want to see you...to feel you. I will always want to give you everything," I stated all in frustration. "And I have nothing. And you will hate me. And you will leave. And I won't...I won't know what to do if someone important leaves again."

Committing to being a madman, I walked out of the theater with bloodshot eyes and unstable stance. And it made my head spin just knowing how his words would render me sleepless for a fortnight. Nevertheless, I staggered down the elevator, not caring if people would look at me weirdly.  I have received one too many of those stares already that I've grown immune to it – or less conscious of it, that is.

Running away from my own assuming self, I headed straight to the exit. The sudden thought of the office party in a few days had me skidding to a halt as soon as I passed by big glass windows showing off the latest trends. Entering, I fought the urge to cover my nose as the sweet pungent smell inside the store became too overwhelming for my nerves.

Roaming around, I realized how my lack of social skills had never been the reason why I wasn't into shopping or hanging around malls. It was the irritating feeling the store staff gives off as they followed me around the store, as if I looked like I was up to no good. Or maybe I looked suspicious for the reason that I kept looking behind my back, just afraid of the idea of Donghae looking for me.

I didn't actually know what to tell him the next time we see each other. Perhaps, I do know what to say. And it's just that I don't have the guts to accept the fact that someone like him could look at me differently. Sorting through a rack of dresses whose colors nearly had me blinded, I grabbed one from where it hung and examined it closely.

"The color suits you well, miss," a staff commented, gently pushing me to the tall mirrors. Grabbing the hanger from my hands and pressing the dress against me, she gazed at me from the mirror. "This would look better on you if you would wear stilettos or wedges. Open-toed shoes won't do. Such a pretty dress for a pretty lady shouldn't be ruined by the wrong choice of shoes."

Looking at my reflection on the mirror, I wondered if she only said that to convince me to buy the garment. And everyone suits the color black in just a matter of style and manner of dressing. But nevertheless, I fumbled for the price tag hanging by the collar. I stared at it with wide eyes, somehow wishing that all my staring would lessen the number of zeroes on the amount.

"Is there a problem, miss?" the saleslady asked.

I shook my head and returned the dress to the rack. "I would starve for a month if I buy it," I said sadly. My phone vibrated inside my pocket, the screen blaring Donghae's name.  Rejecting the call, "Thank you," I muttered to the store staff before heading to the exit.

"Wait, is that the latest iPhone?" the saleslady inquired. Not sure where the curiosity was coming from, I nodded hesitantly in response. "How would you consider a trade?" she asked, grinning widely.

[A/N: The story is nearly done! ^^]