If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me.

"Lee Kikwang, I hate you!"

"No, you don't!" he shouted back.

Jeon Hyosung let out a frustrated huff and stomped her foot on the ground. She threw her lip balm at him, making him cower away from her and hold his arms in front of his face in his defence. Just because she knew it'd make him angry, she picked up the book he'd been reading, pulled the bookmark from between the pages, and tucked the slim piece of paper into the back pocket of her jeans. She threw the book back onto his bed with force and it bounced a little bit. Kikwang glared at her, but she didn't care.

"I hate you," she repeated.

It was a stupid, silly argument. They had them often. But those stupid, silly arguments were growing in intensity.

He'd blown her off after school that day. They were supposed to go to the record store like they did every Wednesday after classes let out, but he went to play basketball with the guys instead. Normally she didn't care.

Except it was the second week in a row that he'd skipped their Wednesday tradition, and he'd cancelled plans the prior Sunday afternoon, too.

And Hyosung didn't like it one bit.

"You're being a ," he said, reaching for his book and immediately trying to search for his place.

"What?" she asked, speaking at a dangerously low tone. "What did you just say?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You just called me a ," she said, locking eyes with him.

This was when the age difference started to change them. The space between 12 and 13 was a big one, although he was only eight months older than her. Kikwang was almost in high school, and he started caring more about things like basketball and girls. Hyosung was the skinny kid who still slept with her teddy bear - it was a gift from her late mother, and she couldn't part with it yet.

"Don't say that word," he warned her.

"You did!"

"I'm older."

"So it's OK for you to be a jerk?" she asked. He shrugged his shoulder again and flopped down on his bed, showing no remorse for treating her like he was. "Fine. I'm leaving."

"Jeon Hyosung."

"Don't you Jeon Hyosung me!" she shouted. "I'm going to Hana’s."

She said it just to hurt him, and they both knew it. He'd expressed fears that the little brunette was taking his place as Hyosung's best friend. The girls talked about things that Hyosung couldn't talk about with Kikwang - though there wasn't much the two didn't share - and they spent every day at school together since they were in the same class.

Kikwang hung out with a group of boys who played basketball and talked about girls, and one of those boys was his brother, Doojoon. Hyosung had been close with the brothers for as long as she could remember despite Doojoon being two years older, but Kikwang and her were inseparable.

Both were on the school's basketball team, which she couldn’t join with it being an all boys team. Go figure. Though she once cut her hair extremely short to make the cut and ended up being scolded by her father.

He and Hyosung had been drifting apart just a little bit, and he supposed that may have been for the best. She needed friends, girl friends, and he needed the chance to experience all those teenaged experiences.

"Fine! Go to Hana's," he spat angrily.

"Jealous?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

She had one hand on her hip, and her curls were a little messy. She didn't wear makeup like the girls he went to school with, and she didn't wear clothes like those girls wore either. He kind of loved that about her.

"Does it matter?" He sat up and stared at her. "You're jealous of my friends."

"Hah! As if. I don't care, Kikwang. Hang out with whoever," she said, turning towards the door. "Maybe we're not best friends."

She left, and he felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach. He wanted them to be best friends. He didn't want to fight with her. He didn't want her to hate him, or even say she did. He couldn't let her just leave like that and not do something about it.

When he pulled open his door and stepped onto the porch, he had every intention of sprinting to catch up with her as she walked down the sidewalk. But there she was, sitting on the steps by his bedroom door with her legs pulled up to her chest.

"Don't call me names," she said softly.

"I'm sorry. That was...awful. I'm sorry." He sat down next to her, and he saw his bookmark sticking out of her back pocket, so he reached back and took it. She spun to look at him, wide eyed, as if to ask why his hand was anywhere near her behind. "My bookmark."

"Why did you say that?" she asked. "I just wanted to hang out."

"I know. I was a jerk," he said shamefully. "I didn't mean it."

"If you say that again, I'll..."

"I won't," he said quickly. "I promise, Hyo." She nodded her head and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Are you going to Hana's?"

"She's not even home," she admitted, and he laughed. She smiled, and he looked over just in time to catch it. "She knows Wednesday is my day with you, even if you forget."

"I didn't forget."

"It feels like you did."

"How could I forget about my best friend?" he asked, pulling her closer.

"You tell me," she mumbled.

"I can't. Because I can't forget about you. Therefore, I can't explain, and..."

"OK!" she said with a laugh. "I get it."

"Come on," he said, standing and pulling her up by her hand. "Let's go get ice cream."

"It's not even dinner yet."

"So? I owe you," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was already at the bottom of the steps, and she was still standing on the porch. "You coming, or what?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, but skipped down the steps, and when she was walking next to him, he draped his arm over her shoulder again.

And then he did something she didn't expect. Something that made her feel a little funny. A new feeling in her stomach that she kind of liked.

He kissed her temple, right there on the sidewalk.

He'd never done anything like that before, not since they were little kids and he'd kiss her cheek or her hand as a joke or part of a game. This kiss felt a little different. When she looked up at him, he just winked at her. He started doing it a little more often, but still not frequently.

They'd be laying on the grass in her backyard, their hands joined, just like they always used to do. She'd say something goofy or something deep or something he deemed adorable, and he'd lean over and kiss her temple.

She liked it.

She had to believe he liked it, too.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm just in the mood for fluffs. Expect more fluffs, reader. MORE!