Narrator's POV

"You look stunning," Jaejoong greeted as soon as she opened the door. He handed her a white rose, which Mina took shyly. He held his hand out and together they walked down the porch steps. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, wondering how and choosing the right words to repay his compliment.

They headed to his car, parked just right in front of her apartment. Seeing her forehead creased in confusion, "Gas prices are on the rise these days," Jaejoong explained quickly. A soft laugh escaped her lips before entering the passenger seat as the man held the door open for her. She watched as he jogged to the driver seat and was glad she had made the right decisions.

With the keys in the ignition, the engine hummed to life. "I was trying to call you last night and just this morning but your phone seems to be dead or did you change your number?" Jaejoong said, resting his forearm on the leather seat and looking over his shoulder. Mina gawked at how he moved so confidently yet so coolly. In the end, her admiration for him rendered her speechless.

He was well-dressed, and it was already an understatement. From his seemingly blow-dried hair to his shiny black shoes, every cell of him screams perfection. It took Mina off guard, maybe even disarmed her. But his smile and his style – ah, that is something she hadn't expected. His dress shirt under his blazer was only a shade whiter than his skin – oh, how she longed to touch him.

"What?" he asked, suddenly becoming conscious when he caught her blatantly staring at him.

She, on the other hand, retracted her gaze and focused on the road ahead instead. "Sorry. My phone...it was...I couldn't find it," Mina explained.

Jaejoong flashed her a warm smile. "Don't worry about it. Maybe it's just under your pillow or something."

Mina nodded. "Yeah. Maybe."

And awkward silence ensued. The venue was still a long way to go, and Mina rested her head against the car window. It had been a week since Jaejoong ditched their supposedly date. And it had also been a week since Donghae... Mina shook her head. She didn't want to believe. She could not. To her, it was just undeniably impossible to have someone love her.

Similarly, it had also been a week since the cards and roses that arrived at her doorstep came with endless apologies. Thinking Jaejoong was still feeling guilty about leaving her alone that day at the bus stop, Mina shrugged the thought of Donghae away from her mind.

Mina's POV

"Mina, this is Im Su Ah. Su Ah, this is Young Mina," Jaejoong said, introducing me to the sixth person that night. The woman could easily be mistaken for a celebrity. And in fact, everyone in the hall could be mistaken for someone famous – with the exclusion of myself, of course. My imperfections made me stand out yet still unnoticeable in a place full of people – full to overcrowding, in fact.

Everyone seemed to know their place – where their colleagues are and where the refreshments are. The ladies seemed to be comfortable dancing and circling the hall in their high heels while my toes feel like they're being sawed off from my feet in the one-inch-heeled shoes I found at the bottom of my closet. I don't even know I owned them.

The men laughed and talked from their grouping on one corner of the hall. It was disconcerting to know how we all worked and do business on a single floor of the company building yet I know only a handful of their names – most of which I can't even associate with the faces. If Min-guk was here, he would have been in the middle of the hall with everyone listening to what he has to say, and I would be a lone figure standing and listening from a distant corner.

With a smile, the woman shook my hand with her free hand while her other held a half empty glass of wine. "How long have you been in the company? I don't think I've met you before," Su Ah asked, alternating her gaze from Jaejoong to me.

I shrugged, fighting the urge to act my usual awkward self. "I've been working for the past two months," I said, feeling somehow proud of myself that I didn't stutter. Su Ah looked as if she was waiting for me to say something more, but I already ran out of words to say. I heard Jaejoong tell her something, though I didn't bother listening.

A few minutes later, she laid a hand on my arm and excused herself before leaving. Turning to Jaejoong, "I'm sorry," I muttered faintly.

He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. "What for?"

"I don't know." I chewed on my lower lip. "You could be with your friends right now and just leave me here. You don't have to keep me company," I stated, embarrassed. "And – I don't know – I'm sorry for being..." I gulped down hard. "...different."

At the word, Jaejoong immediately stared at me before his serious expression broke out into a wide grin. "You're different. I'm different, Mina. Look at those people," he said and gestured to the rest of our colleagues segregating themselves into cliques and groups. "They're normal." He cringed at the word, making me laugh. "It's boring. Normal is boring, Mina. Trying to be the same as everyone else when you're different is boring."

After his statement, he, too, burst out into laughter. And there, standing in front of me, was a brown-eyed man, one of the few people who saw me through, other than being the girl whose brother committed suicide and did nothing about it or the girl who never talked unless spoken to – sometimes not even then.

I took a deep breath. It was a question I had worn on my tongue for days, like a scab I couldn't resist picking on despite knowing how it might bleed and might take longer time to heal. "Can I ask you something?" I started, fidgeting with my fingers under the table. Jaejoong nodded, although I could tell he was caught off guard.

Breathing it all out, "Do you like me?" I interrogated.

Jaejoong didn't need to open his mouth. In his hesitation, I found the answer. I nodded and stood up, ready to leave. "Wait." He pulled my wrists. "Look, I really like you, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I know," I said, struggling from his grasp. "And I understand now." All I wanted at the moment was to leave and not show my face to anyone anymore. I took the risk and took the fall and there was no chance of redemption at the bottom. "I was wrong about everything and I'm sorry for even asking."

"Don't say that, Mina," Jaejoong replied. "You weren't wrong about everything. You were just wrong about me." He held my chin and forced me to look at him. "You're different. Maybe that's what brought me to you. You looked like you needed a friend, and that what I'm here for. I could be your friend and I'm sorry you misunderstood."

I nodded, fumbling for my antidepressants until I realized I didn't have any. "Wait, but what about the twenty reasons?" I couldn't help but ask. The curiosity was driving me insane.

He looked perplexed. "What reasons?"

"You know." I scratched my head. "Those flowers with cards you leave outside my door every morning for the past two weeks, what about them?"

"Oh!" Jaejoong exclaimed, nearly knocking the table down with his sudden action. "Remember that day when I went to your house and we went to work together?" he recalled, to which I just nodded, not quite sure what his point was. "I found the rose outside your door and I just gave it to you. When I arrived, the rose was already there."

I stayed inside and I waited. I waited. I waited for what felt like years. There was a knock on the door. I walked out of the stall, walking past the maintenance staff cleaning up after the party.

Donghae's POV

Sighing for the hundredth time that morning, I put down the book I was reading after realizing I had been reading the same sentence for the past half an hour. I fumbled for the keys inside my pocket and opened the drawer I had locked because it had my phone inside for 6 days already. Since Mina didn't answer my calls after she ran out the theater, I knew my phone wouldn't be of any use to me anymore.

By now, I figured, she might not feel as angry as she was that day. Dialing for her number, I felt my heart race and beat unevenly. "Yoboseyo?" an unfamiliar female voice answered.

"Hello, is Young Mina there?" I asked, feeling nervous.

The woman on the other line cleared . "Ah, you see, Young Mina gave her phone to me in exchange of..." she trailed off hesitantly. "...in exchange of a dress. She said something about wearing it for a party but she didn't have enough money to buy it. I suggested a trade and she agreed," she explained.

"Oh, is that so?" I muttered, standing up and taking my jacket with me. "Can we meet? I'd buy her phone back," I said, remembering how she had told me once how it was a gift from her brother. Dashing out of the hospital and into the parking lot, I wondered what else I would write on the card I would give to her this morning. If I wrote everything I wanted to tell her, it would take more than just a card.

After the woman told me to meet her at the clothing store inside a mall where she worked, I floored the accelerator. I arrived within minutes and immediately saw the saleslady. She handed me the phone and I paid her in return.

Advancing to Mina's house, I prayed for all the right words to come out in the right way and the right time. I parked right in front of her apartment and breathing deeply, I knocked. There was no response, however, and I knocked again. It wasn't such a disgraceful time in the morning, but it was a Saturday and she might be sleeping in.

Pressing my ear against the door, there was the sound of running water from a faucet. "Mina?" I called out and knocked again but to no avail. Was she so mad that she couldn't even open the door for me? Nonetheless, I cleared my throat, hoping my voice would be loud enough for her to hear from inside.

"Look, I know I don't own you." My words sent stabs to my chest. "And after what I did, perhaps I never will." My grip on her phone became slippery as my hands were clammy from perspiring a river out of nervousness. "You don't even owe me anything, so I shouldn't feel so down when you don't call. But I'm sorry. I apologize for being a jerk and kissing you without your permission. But I would not and I would never apologize for confessing to you because I meant it."

"I meant everything I said and I won't take my words back. I'm hoping you'll forgive me and I don't mean that I'm forcing you to love me back," I explained. "I'll just love you myself and I'll be fine with that." I scratched my head and turned to leave, until I remembered what was in my hands. Knowing she won't open the door until I have completely left, I decided to just leave her phone by her doorstep.

Maybe I have been preoccupied by my feelings. Or maybe I didn't notice at all. Maybe I wasn't sensitive enough. But it wasn't just a puddle of cold water by my feet. From under her door, more water came out. It was flooding.