DISCLAIMER:

I don't know if the story on Facebook is real or fake, but please be noted that the vague plot of this story (two people in hospital, does not belong to me- it isn't me who came up with it). However, I do own the memories and others...

WAIT I DON'T OWN KWON JIYONG, DARA PARK.

YAY! Okay, on with the storeh.

 

PS. I'M WONDERING IF I SHOULD MAKE THIS A SUBSCRIBER ACCESS ONLY FIC... -scratches chin- HMMMMMM..... and sorry if this one's a bit messy guys... The JuneHols spirit is eating at me and I feel realllyyyyyy lethargic.

 

SO VOTE, SUBSCRIBE AND COMMENT! :D

[3rd Person's POV]

 

"So... What do you like?"

 

"Why does it matter?" Jiyong sighed as the questions started up again.

 

"Just tell me," Dara whined in frustration. A few weeks had passed, and though Jiyong seemed more comfortable around her, he still wasn't opening up.

 

Well, maybe a bit.

 

"Ugh just shut up! Just because I can't get up and do some payback doesn't mean you can annoy me like this!"

 

Making a face, she decided to keep mum and wait for Mdm Kim to enter. Just like the usual daily routine- She would be propped up to drain the fluids from her lungs for an hour, and in that hour, she would talk to Jiyong about the world outside.

 

As if on cue, the door swung open and Mdm Kim peered in.

 

"How're you doing today, dearies?"

 

"Horrible," Jiyong deadpanned. "Brat wouldn't stop her whining."

 

"Hey! Don't call me a brat, !"

 

"Shut up, wench."

 

"Don't call me w-" Dara was cut off when her nurse placed a hand over . "It's too early for an argument, so calm down. Remember, you're in a hospital." She tutted as she raised Dara like always, inserting tubes and pressing buttons. "Seriously, you two argue like an old married couple."

 

"No!" The pair in questions shouted, horrified- at the same time.

 

"Stop copying me!" They exclaimed, then paused in horror.

 

"Shut up!" Jiyong said as Dara yelled, "Quiet!"

 

"Even got the syncing down pat," Mdm Kim mused. "Anyway, one hour."

 

"Wa-" Jiyong's protests were unheard. Dara giggled. She felt bipolar today.

 

"But really! What do you like? What do you like to eat, read, stuff like that?"

 

He groaned. "Why are you so persistent today? Do you want to know that much?" Dara pouted. "It's a good way to get to know each other, right? Besides, there's nothing to do too."

 

"Fine, fine. My favourite food is... Sausages?" His voice was uncertain. "Aw hell, I never think about this stuff!"

 

"What about sweets?" Dara continued excitedly. "What sweets do you like?"

 

"I hate chocolate. I really hate it." He started, as he stuck out his tongue in disgust. "The way it coats your tongue and makes it so sweet, yuck."

 

"But I like chocolate! It's great!"

 

Jiyong waved her off, rolling his eyes again. "Whatever. I like lollipops."

 

A loud burst of laughter from Dara made him squirm uncomfortablly. "Lollipops?" She repeated with another laugh. "The great, stubborn Kwon likes lollipops?"

 

"Go on, laugh all you want." He spat, suddenly on defense. "Like I care."

 

Dara cooed. "Don't be mad, it's normal to like lollipops."

 

"Hmph." Jiyong huffed and tried turning to face the other way, but never got to when the sharp ache in his neck informed him of his situation.

 

"I like all kinds of sweets." She offered when he made no move to ask her. "What do you like to drink?"

 

"Coke. I mean, what other awesome drinks are there?"

 

"Coke is bad for health," Dara chided. "It's corrosive."

 

"Right,"  Jiyong dragged the word out. "Really."

 

"Yea. It's gross. Way too fizzy. Especially when it's cold, and my nose hurts from it's fizziness." She wrinkled her nose. "I like water."

 

Jiyong laughed out loud, his hand holding his stomach as he tried not to roll around. "All the types of drinks there are and you choose... Water?"

 

"But," Dara protested as he kept on laughing. "Water is healthy!"

 

"I can't take this," he said between his laughing fit. "You're such a priss. Water."

 

"Ugh," she groaned. "Fine, Sprite is nice. It isn't so fizzy. I like milk tea, when I need something with more substance. When I need something light, I like green tea! Happy now?"

 

Still, Jiyong continued to laugh and snort. Dara rolled her lips into , deciding to wait for him to stop laughing before continuing.

 

"What about novels?" She asked, trying to change the subject. "Fiction or non-fiction?"

 

"Non-fiction, duh. All that about little ponies pouncing around and fairies throwing fairy dust to make life better is crap." Jiyong replied, sounding bitter. "Life isn't like that. It ."

 

"Why?" She questioned softly.

 

"Because."

 

"If I could read books, I guess I'd like those romance novels," she sighed dreamily. "All those love stories and finding a man who'd be true to you. If only they were true."

 

If she could read? "What, you mean you can't read books?" he asked suspiciously. Startled, Dara realized her mistake immediately. "Haha, what?" She laughed weakly. "Of course I can. But we can't read them here, right? It's been a long time since I've read one."

 

Sensing her getting uncomfortable, Jiyong filed the case to the back of his mind, deciding to question her next time. "Romance, huh? Knew you liked those sappy stories. Such a girl," he scoffed.

 

"Well, excuse me! I am a girl!"

 

"How long have you been here?"

 

The sudden question made Dara pause and her energy died down. "I guess... a few years?"

 

Jiyong's eyes softened at the vulnerability in her voice. "What about family? Do they not visit you?"

 

"They..." He could hear her sniffle softly. "They died. My whole family's dead."

 

They died? And yet she still manages to laugh and smile? "But... how are you able to keep on smiling?" Dara took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

 

"Sometimes, you just have to have hope." She smiled sadly. "Even though they're gone, I'm sure they're up there looking over me. My mother, father, and sister." And there's this someone who's given me this hope, Dara bit her lip.

 

Feeling guilty, Jiyong bit the inside of his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

 

"It's okay, you know," she shrugged. "It's been a long time. No one's came to visit since I got here. At least I get to have company once in awhile."

 

"Then who pays for the fees to keep you here?"

 

"My distant aunt. I've never seen her before, but she was real close to my mother, apparently. And rich." Dara said as she wiped her tears with the blanket. There was silence for awhile, as neither spoke.

 

"If you don't mind me asking, how..." The unasked question was clear to both of them. Jiyong had no idea why he was curious. But he had to know.

 

"Car crash. Some drunk lunatic rammed into the car. My parents, and older sister were inside." More tears dripped as she desperately tried to stop crying. "I didn't even know. I had gone for a school camp. Playing happily and having fun when they died." Her heart tugged painfully as she remembered how shock she was when she heard the news from her grandmother. "I felt so guilty. How could I have not known, somehow? Surely I should have felt something was different, or something! Anything!"

 

"Hey, hey," he shushed her, reaching out awkwardly to grasp her limp hand. It was a long stretch. With him not able to turn his body, but inch as near to the side as possible and try to guess where she was. But it was worth it. His long fingers wrapped around her delicate ones, and Dara was grateful.

 

"It wasn't your fault," he said gently, rubbing small circles on her hand slowly.

 

Well, this jerk has a nice side after all, Dara thought, grinning through her tears. "Thanks. But why are you so nice all of a sudden?"

 

Snorting, he tried to retrieve his hand. "You ungrateful little kid. I thought I could be nice and help. and you throw it back in my face?"

 

He almost fell out of his bed when Dara tugged his hand back violently. "No, no. I just thought..." She trailed off as she bit her lip, tightening her grip on his hand, running her own over the smooth skin almost subconsciously. "What about you? Why hasn't your family visited?"

 

His previously relaxed hand immediately clenched into a fist and he tried pulling back again. Dara held fast. "I don't want to talk about this," he gritted out, but faltered when he felt her hand tremble softly. A quiet sniff could be heard. and he backtracked. "Look, don't cry."

 

"It's not about that, silly." Dara giggled. "It's nothing."

 

Still, he couldn't shake off this weird feeling. "I'll tell you. Soon. Alright?"

 

Dara nodded. "Yea."

 

She tugged at his rigid fingers, pulling them one by one, and fit her palm over his. His big hand almost dwarfed her and she smiled. "Next time."

 

"It's a horrible story, really," he sighed. "There isn't much time left. How about we just talk about the window? I mean, seeing only a white, cracked ceiling can really dull your spirits." Jiyong added the last part, joking.

 

Call him silly, but he had started to look forward to the small talks they had. Especially the window part. Dara could explain the scenery vividly, and the brightness her voice took on made him smile. Always.

 

"It's a peaceful day today... There isn't much going on. But the usuals are there, like always. The same old man who brought bread to feed ducks. The same couple walking together, holding hands as they lean onto each other. But, there's something new today."

 

"What is it?" He asked, because he knew she wanted him to. "A swan. A beautiful, white one, with great wings. It's floating gently on the lake, and the ripples flow slowly, until they reach the rim." She said dreamily as she his palm, feeling the calluses that had formed over the years. Jiyong settled against the pillow, half-asleep as her soft touch made him relax.

 

"Hope. That's what it is. Hope, that will take flight and make things real."

 

With that, Jiyong lost consciousness, lulled by Dara's voice and her touch.

 

She continued even as he fell asleep.

 

*** ***

 

"I knew you couldn't be trusted!"

 

"What kind of son are you! How could you do this sort of thing!" A large man yelled. Jiyong sat on the chair stoically, waiting for the shouting to end. A delicate and elegant looking lady sat not far away, sobbing into her hands. "What went wrong, Jiyong? Why did you do it?"

 

"I didn't do it!" Fifteen year old Jiyong shouted, enraged. "I tell you, I was set up!"

 

Jiyong's head suddenly whipped to the side sharply, his hand creeping up to touch the burning flesh. Tearing eyes darted up to meet his father's. "Don't shout at your mother," the man seethed. "After all those years, years we toiled as we tried to bring you up properly, was wasted!"

 

"We've called the centre already. Please, Jiyong," his mother pleaded. "This is for you. To help you. Please."

 

"I don't want to go!" Jiyong said as he fell to his knees. "It wasn't me! Please," he begged as he peered up at his mother. "My art competition- it's next week! I can't miss it! It would be my time to shine! My teacher said he-"

 

"He said nothing!" The elder Kwon roared as he banged his fists on the dining table. His mother cringed as it shook under the impact. "You will go for the treatment, and that's final!"

 

"Eomma, please," Jiyong sobbed, clasping his hands together. No, this couldn't be happening. No! "My art competition, it's important to me! Please!"

 

His mother's tearful gaze connected with his own.

 

"I'm sorry, Jiyong."

 

The words echoed in Jiyong's mind as he jerked awake, sweat dotting his forehead. Warm pressure on his arm made his eyes blur before focusing on it. "Hey, are you okay?" Dara's soft voice reached him in the darkness. His body still trembled lightly from the nightmare. "I heard you crying." He groaned in his head in embarrassment. She heard me?

 

"What happened?"

 

"I don't want to say," he said stubbornly. "Okay," she replied easily, sensing his unease.

 

Silence overtook the two as neither said a word. Jiyong was lost in his on world, feeling unsettled. He had been having nightmares frm the past. Sure, it probably didn't seem very scary, but with a huge man towering over you when you were less than half his height?

 

No thanks.

 

He had been getting them almost everyday, and it seemed like today was no exception. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to dispel the leftover feelings from the nightmare. 

 

"You know, I don't know how you look like," Jiyong said awkwardly, trying to kill the atmosphere. It sort of gave him goosebumps. Plus, he wanted to forget about the dream.

 

Rolling her eyes, Dara replied. "Well, I don't know how you look like either."

 

"Are you pretty?" He smirked, "I wish I could know."

 

"What, so you can be like, the playboy you are and make some moves? No way, mister," Dara snorted.

 

"But I really want to know how you look like," he whined a little, surprising himself. "Do you have a sharp nose? Nicely shaped lips? Big, doe-like eyes? What colour are your eyes? Brown? Black? Blue?"

 

At this, she scoffed. "Blue eyes? You're clearly mixing me up with another nationality."

 

"Well, you might've been a mix, and," his voice dipped into a whisper, "I always find that those are the iest. They'd have all the nice features of both nationalities. Big smoky blue eyes and full lips."

 

"Sorry bro, but I'm a Korean through and through."

 

Jiyong mock-sighed sadly. "Ah well, it was worth a try." 

 

It was night, and their room was dark. None of the lights were switched on, and Jiyong shivered a little, feeling nervous. The darkness is kind of creepy. Not to mention the hospital scent and quiet whurring of machines, he groaned before mentally slapping himself. Stop scaring me, me!

 

Strange as it was, her voice comforted him, so he tried making casual talk most of the time, just to hear it. The soft, soothing tone was enough to make him sleep. He was glad that things between them remained normal. It was a mindless move earlier to hold her hand, but she didn't seem to mind.

 

And neither did he. Especially when hers carressed his gently... Crap! Shut up! Jiyong sighed. He was getting bored, but couldn't seem to sleep. "How did you end up here?"

 

"I'm... Not sure, really," She hesitated. "In fact, I never really understood all those complex words they use, so... All I know is that I have excessive liquid in my lungs, and they have to drain in out everyday, that's why I'm propped up for about an hour daily."

 

"What about you?" She asked moments later, curious.

 

Jiyong snorted. "A stupid reason, really. I was driving my motorbike, and this huge lorry came out of nowhere and crashed into me." As he spoke, his voice increased in intensity and anger, clearly getting agitated. "Calm down," Dara whispered, and reached out to touch his arm. Almost instantly, he relaxed back into the bed. "It just makes me so angry thinking about what landed me here..." The bedsheet under him was clenched tightly. "They didn't even care, just assumed. Not once did they visit me."

 

He turned his head slightly to the side to avoid her, hiding the small tears. His neck had healed a bit, somewhat, so he could move it a bit now.

 

"Your parents?"

 

He nodded, until he realized that it would be impossible to see in the dark. "Yea."

 

"Why? What happened? Why are you so angry?" Dara whispered softly, coaxing him to spill his unhappiness.

 

He held himself back in time, building up the wall once again. The wall that had saved him, made him strong so that no one could touch him, or break him down. But this is Dara, his mind reminded gently, she wouldn't hurt you.

 

He knew she wouldn't.

 

"How about, next time?" Jiyong proposed, obviously trying to delay the topic. "Next time, I'll tell you everything."

 

"Okay," the young woman replied, disappointment evident in her word. Jiyong winced. It's just hard to talk about it, he tried to reason with himself. Next time...

 

*** ***

 

They had gotten used to touching each other. Not those intimate fondles, of course, but holding hands made them feel assured that they weren't alone. When Jiyong got frustrated with his immobility, a soft caress of Dara's fingers would relax him immediately.

 

"Freak, I'm so tired of sitting- no lying here, not being able to do anything." Jiyong groaned. "This again?" Dara chuckled, her eyelashes fluttering as she laughed. "I thought we went through this before already!"

 

"Yea, but still... It's just so... frustrating!"

 

Without hesitation, Dara reached her hand out to hold his. He felt her warmth when her hand engulfed his, and he intertwined their fingers together. Jiyong felt strange. He had never gotten so close to another person before, and yet, with Dara... It was almost as if she had buried herself somewhere in his heart.

 

He wasn't sure what to make of it yet.

 

Sighing, he her stretched hand slowly as his eyes roved around the ceiling. White, with a little moldy stuff in each corner. Cracks weaved through the ceilings. There were eighteen of them, Jiyong thought idly, I should try counting again... Before he could start his counting, Dara interrupted his thoughts.

 

"What are your hobbies?" She asked, a smile on her lips. Not that he could turn around and see it, but he could feel her smiling.

 

Was that weird?

 

"Ah," he hesitated, reaching his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. "It's kind of embarrassing. Do you mean when I was a goodie goodie with an aim in life or when I was a badass womanizer?"

 

"Pfft," she giggled, "when you were a goodie goodie?"

 

He in a breath, "I liked art. I liked to paint, do portraits, or landscape art. I loved it. Especially when the results are just so good and I feel proud that I had produced something like that."

 

"Wow," Dara breathed. "You must've been good."

 

"Yea, that was around, fifteen?" Jiyong sighed. "Everyone was proud of me. I entered competitions, got first, stuff like that," he said, trying to be humble.

 

"I wish I could see them."

 

Jiyong tilted his head to the side. "When we get out of here, you will. I'll show you every single one of them."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yea," he said.

 

"I really wish I could..." Dara gulped and wiped her tears away quickly before he could sense her tears. "Don't tell anyone though," he teased, oblivious to her quiet tears. "It would damage my reputation."

 

A light giggle was her reply.

 

"You know, I never really got to thank you," Jiyong said abruptly. Dara jerked, surprised. "Huh?"

 

"Yea. Thank you," he coughed gruffly. "If you weren't here. I would've expired long ago."

 

"No problem.", she grinned. "Anything for a darling like you," she cooed.

 

"Aw hell, stop it," he snorted.

 

It was then he realized that her soft hand still laid in his. He had been it absentmindedly. However, the door bursting open loudly made Dara retract her hand quickly, and Jiyong almost groaned in disappointment. Mdm Kim bustled into the room like usual. Jiyong dismissed her without a thought. She had nothing to do with him. In fact, she would always have hushed conversations with Dara, and giggles from the younger girl would erupt every now and then.

 

For some reason, he felt jealous. He felt jealous that the old nurse was making her laugh. It should've only been him making her laugh and giggle like that.

 

Then he slapped himself. What was he doing?! Jealous of a nurse thrice their age with wrinkles and white hair? Something was seriously wrong with him.

 

For the first time in awhile (or maybe three days), his doctor stepped in. He would've come everyday, but Jiyong had demanded that he wouldn't do so. The doctor was annoying. "So, how are you doing today, Jiyong?" He asked professionally.

 

"Fine," he replied boredly.

 

"Can you move your neck a little without feeling pain now?"

 

At this, Jiyong hesitated. Admitting so would mean his discharge would occur faster. Though he wished that a few ten days ago, on his first week here, he didn't now. Call him corny, but he wanted to stay a little more for Dara.

 

"No. It still hurts like a when I twitch it," Jiyong said, picking at his nails.

 

"Hmm... Alright," his doctor said before snapping the file shut. "See you next time,"

 

Jiyong grunted in reply and the door swung shut. Now for the nurse to leave...

 

*** ***

 

"How are you feeling today, Dara?" Mdm Kim asked warmly as she adjusted her patient.

 

"Just fine, thank you," Dara said with a sweet smile. Mdm Kim felt her heart ache for the poor girl. She didn't deserve to be in a hospital like this. At least she seemed to be happier nowadays compared to the previous years she had spent here.

 

"How is Jiyong treating you?"

 

Dara laughed shyly. "I really like him, Mdm Kim..."

 

"Good for you," the nurse's hands patted hers. "It's time you were really happy."

 

"Thanks."

 

"One hour!" With that, she breezed out of the room.

 

"Jeez, thought she'd never leave," she heard Jiyong drawl loudly from his side of them room.

 

"Don't be rude, she chided. "Okay, okay!" Jiyong twisted around a bit on the hard bed.

 

"I haven't asked you yet, what's your hobby?" 

 

Dara wondered for a moment. "Dancing. I like dancing."

 

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Didn't think you'd be the kind to dance."

 

"What do you mean by that!" She said defensively, "I can do almost any kind of dance! Ballet, Hiphop, Chinese, Jazz, Tango, Salsa!"

 

"Doesn't that mean you need a partner?"

 

"Uhuh," she said. "Why?"

 

He gritted his teeth at the thought of an unknown man pulling her close, placing his hands on her hips while they swayed. "Nothing."

 

Something is seriously wrong with me, Jiyong frowned.

 

"When I dance, it's as if nothing else matters. Only me, moving my body to the music that only I can hear. It's almost magical. I like singing too," Dara continued, oblivious to his turmoil. "Listening to music, stuff like that."

 

Jiyong made a noise in reply, his thoughts still spinning wildly. "What about you? When you were a 'badass womanizer'?" She quoted from his own words. He sighed. "Well, I fooled around. , stuff like that."

 

Dara wrinkled her nose. "? You mean you lost your ity at like, fifteen?"

 

"Nah, sixteen," Jiyong shrugged. "Life."

 

"That's gross."

 

"Well..." He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable about the subject. "I was foolish?"

 

"Uhuh," she said, unconvinced. "I'm not that playboy-ish, I guess," Jiyong smiled. "There's someone special in my heart. I've remembered her all these years though we probably spent like, less than ten minutes together. We were really young. That's why I came back here, actually," he paused. "To come back here and meet her. On the year we both turned eighteen."

 

Dara bit her lip, feeling strangely jealous of this woman Jiyong liked. She frowned. Where did these silly feelings come from?

 

Feeling him step further away, her hand shot out wildly. "No, don't go," she suddenly choked out. "I'll come back. How about... When we're eighteen?" The boy proposed and she tilted her head to the side. "We'll meet again when we're eighteen. At this kindergarten. On this day, 25 August."

 

Dara shook her head, feeling confused. The boy... Had sounded strangely like... Jiyong.

 

No, it couldn't be. Dara thought to herself. No one can be this lucky. 

 

"And you? Don't tell you're still a ," he laughed when she said nothing.

 

After a minute of awkward silence, he coughed. "You are?"

 

"Well... I guess." She said meekly, twisting her blanket in her hands. "It's nothing to embarrass myself about, I'm just saving myself or the right guy." He didn't know what to say, so he kept quiet. "I've secretly kept this crush on someone too... When I was younger, and I knew him for a short period of time as well. He gave me the hope that allowed me to still stand tall until today."

 

"Jiyong-ah, do you think we'll ever get out?" The abrupt change in question confused him.

 

"Huh?"

 

He blinked, resisting the urge to turn and look at his companion- his neck still hurt when he moved too much, and thus, he was stuck. Literally. He wondered how she looked like.

 

"I have no idea. Soon, I hope?" He voiced out uncertainly. Nah, actually, let's just stay here a little longer. Jiyong patted himself on the back, praising himself for his superb acting abilites.

 

"Hope," Dara whispered, "is a fragile wish..."

 

She was being pessimistic. This was unlike her. He scowled, "Forget about all that , just tell me what's happening outside the window."

 

Their room was medium-sized with nice facilities. That none of them could use. Jiyong snorted mentally. But it had a window. According to Dara, they had a nice room which faced the road outside, and a park. She would look out of the window whenever she could and would then describe to him the scenery outside. It had become their daily routine.

 

"It's a sunny day today, actually." She started, "At the park, there's a kind-looking old man who's walking his dog. They both look really happy. The trees are swaying gently to the breeze, and the grass looks so green. In the sky, there's a pair of birds flying freely. Just like how I imagine we'll both be, soon," Smiling, Jiyong closed his eyes and relaxed, trying to picture what she was describing. Then he heard a sharp intake of breath.

 

"What?" He asked immediately, alarmed.

 

"Nothing," she replied, flustered. He could almost imagine the shy blush that would undoubtedly cover her face. "Oh, just tell me."

 

"Well, there's a couple. A girl and a boy. Behind a tree, thinking no one's seeing them," Dara giggled, whispering the last few words, "and they're doing naughty stuff."

 

Jiyong rolled his eyes, "That's stupid."

 

"But, I- I've never done anything like that before..."

 

"Do what? Kissing?" He asked, incredulous. "You're like, eighteen, and haven't been kissed? Not even one?"

 

She didn't answer when she remembered something.

 

"Okay," she whispered and hugged him tightly. He pulled back and paused. Why is he waiting? Suddenly, something soft brushed against her lips and she jerked back in surprise.

 

"I-I'm sorry," the boy said, embarrassed. "I just-"

 

He was cut off when her own lips touched his. "Come back, okay?" Dara said as she clutched his handkerchief. "I will." He said, sounding more determined this time. "I will."

 

But that was so long ago, Dara thought, surely it can't be considered...

 

Another minute of awkward silence confirmed his suspicion- or so he thought. "Holy ! You're like a nun!"

 

"No!" She denied hotly. "I did kiss someone! Remember that crush I told you I had?"

 

 

"Well..." Dara felt as if her body could've burned a hole through her sheets from her embarrassment.

 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed of," he coughed. "I had my first kiss when I was way young too. I might as well just tell you... Remember that girl I told you I was coming back to meet?"

 

"Uhuh," Dara replied.

 

"Yea, I had my first kiss with her. We were really young," he scratched his head nervously. "I just wanted to... Do it, you know?"

 

Dara hummed in reply, thinking back to her first and only kiss. Well... she had two. Surely they counted as two though they were from the same guy. "Hey," Jiyong said, "still with me here?"

 

"Still here."

 

"Then after that kiss, with that... little boy, have you had any other kiss?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Nun!" He guffawed again, in stitches. 

 

No one would like me that way anyway, you wouldn't understand... Sighing, she clutched her sheets tighter to herself, feeling insecure.  Other than him, her mind whispered. I miss him... 

 

She huffed. "There wasn't a guy who even liked me, or looked at me. They probably thought I was dirt instead."

 

"What?"

 

"Yea," she said glumly. "I wasn't popular at all. No matter what school I changed to. I was bullied, kinda." Wincing, she clutched her head gently as voices started in her head.

 

"Haha! Dara! Come catch us!" The voice of a little boy taunted her.

 

"Where? Where are you?" Little Dara screamed, afraid. The voices were everywhere, even behind. They were making her confused. "Over here!" Someone shouted from behind her. Feeling overwhelmed, she twirled around too quickly and landed on her . Laughter erupted from the children surrounding her in a circle.

 

"So clumsy!" One of them said spitefully. "But she can't help it, can she?" His friend continued. "Because of her condition." The kids laughed. "Dara! Dara! Dara!" They started chanting. They clashed in her head, and made her more confused. Finally, tears streamed down her face.

 

"Stop! I don't want to play anymore!"

 

She was jerked out of the replay when Jiyong said something.

 

"Why?" He asked confusedly. "You're really nice."

 

"Thanks," she smiled happily. "You were the first boy to tell me that."

 

"But still... wow."

 

"They just made fun of me. Of my... condition. They would run circles around me, and shout loudly, trying to disorient me. Laughing when I tripped trying to catch them. It was awful."

 

"What condition?" He probed.

 

"I... I don't want to say..." Dara said. Please let it go, please let it go, please let it go. "I don't want you to leave me... I just feel insecure, okay?"

 

Her voice, so timid and fragile, stopped him from inquiring further, "Okay." The relief in her was evident when she sighed. "Thanks."

 

Shuffling of sheets could be heard.

 

"Really?" Dara grinned shyly.

 

"Yea."

 

*** ***

 

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

 

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden question?"

 

"Ugh, just tell me," he heard her whine from the right. "I'll tell you mine."

 

"Like I really want to know," he whined back just like her.

 

"Fine."

 

"Fine."

 

"Fine."

 

"Fine."

 

"Fine!" Dara finally gave up in frustration as she threw her arms up in the air. "You loser!"

 

"If I were younger, maybe an artist?" Scratching his nose, Jiyong sighed as he gave in. "Yea, I'd be an artist."

 

Dara smiled sadly. "You can still be one." He loves art so much...

 

"Maybe."

 

Dara hummed in reply. "Someday," Jiyong continued wistfully.

 

"I want to be... a writer!" Dara exclaimed excitedly. "Really, a writer? Someone who just sits there and.... type?" Jiyong snorted. "I thought you'd be the type to be a kindergarten teacher or something."

 

"What?" Dara gawked. "No!"

 

"But an author is so... boring." Jiyong grimaced. "It would be cool though. Imagine," Dara grinned, "Everyone, world-wide, reading my stories. The ones that I produce, the ones by me. That would be really cool."

 

"I guess," Jiyong shrugged.

 

"I want to write, write all my dreams so that they'd become true one day." Dara paused. "Hey! Maybe after we get out, we can fulfill our dreams! I'll be a writer, and you'll be this famous artist who'll hold lots of exhibitions, and bring in a lot of money."

 

"I'm sure I will," Jiyong patted her arm. She knew he was smiling. She didn't have to turn around to check. "Aw, you modest person," she smiled back.

 

Their moment was broken when the doors slammed open and both teens cringed at the loud sound. "And your hour is up!" Mdm Kim said happily, then noticed their expressions. "Sorry, dears."

 

Someday, dreams will come true...

 

---

 

hey peopleeeee

i'm sorry if it's a little choppy. I kind of... jumbled everything together

I tried forcing myself to sit down and re-read it but... IT WAS TOO HARD.

at least i updated. after that false alarm.... ehhehe

but yea. :) hope you like it.

xoxo.