I barely had time to see Kyuhyun one last time before leaving South Korea. I went to the café five hours before my flight – I considered that being three hours in advance to the airport was enough, so I had a little less than two hours in front of me at the café – and smiled when I saw that Kyuhyun was working. I went to him and ordered the same as usual before I took his hand softly. “Kyuhyun… I have to leave in a few hours…”

His eyes were sad. He probably didn’t know what I was saying exactly, but he could still understand. He said something in a low voice, and I shivered because his voice was just amazingly beautiful. “Could you… repeat please? I… I didn’t understand…”

“Henry-sshi…”

“Kyuhyun?”

“Henry-sshi… you… go?”

“In two hours,” I said softly while showing two fingers.

“Ah…”

“Sorry…”

“Is okay… Henry-sshi…”

“Yeah?”

“You… come back? Here? Korea?”

I smiled and traced a little heart on his hand with the tip of a finger. “Sure. Kyuhyun, do you have Skype?”

“Skypeu? Ne, ne! Have Skypeu!”

“Then maybe we could talk to each other on Skype?”

“Eeeh?”

“Talk?”

I took my cellphone – I couldn’t use it as a phone in South Korea without spending a lot of money, but the café had Wi-Fi, so I could use it to search in an online dictionary. I pouted when I found myself in front of hangeul. Kyuhyun must’ve understood my problem, because he softly took my hand and made me show him the screen.

“Aaaaah, talk, talk!”

“Yeah, talk…”

“Talk… ne! Skypeu! You Skypeu?”

“I have a Skype account, yeah.”

He said something in Korean, and took a pen to write something on my hand. His handwriting in occidental alphabet – whatever the exact name was – wasn’t exactly the neatest I had seen in my life, but it was readable. I raised a brow. “GaemGyu?”

“Ne.”

“Okay, here’s mine…”

I took his pen and wrote my Skype on his hand. He tilted his head to the side in an adorable way. “Henrylau89?”

“Yep. I have a Twitter account with the same username…”

“Twitteo…”

“Yep, Twitter.”

“Henry-sshi, Twitteo?”

“Yeah, I just said that… So… Will you stay with me for now? Because I have to leave soon… though I don’t want to…”

“Um… no… mianhae… work…”

I looked down, biting my lower lip. “Oh. I see. Forget it then. I… I’ll go then. I’ll add you on Skype and Twitter as soon as I’m home… but you’ll probably sleep by then… erm… I’ll… I’ll see you another time. On Skype. At home. Erm… yeah. See you.”

I turned around, but Kyuhyun’s hand grabbed my arm. I turned, only to see him look at me with big, sad eyes. He said a few things in Korean. Things I couldn’t understand. Things I would probably never understand. I liked Kyuhyun a lot despite the fact that I barely knew him. But somehow, I knew it wouldn’t work… he couldn’t really speak English, and I couldn’t really speak Korean…

“Henry-sshi… wait…”

“Wait for what? I have to go…”

He let go of my hand, only to take off his cashier shirt – he had another shirt right under it – and jump across the counter. He took my hand again and pulled me outside. “Jikeum not leave,” he pouted.

“Jikeum?”

“Jikeum not leave,” he simply repeated in an uncertain English.

“But I have to go…”

“Stay.”

“Kyuhyun, I can’t stay, I-”

“Stay! Two hour, say? Stay!”

Aaaaand he had forgotten the “s” at the end of “hour”. Oh well. I sighed, and nodded. “Okay then. I’ll stay with you until I really have to go. But won’t you be in trouble?”

“Teurobul?”

“Trouble, Kyuhyun.”

“Teurobul.”

“No, trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Yeah.”

“Teurobul.”

Fudge it.

“Yah, Henry-sshi? Me sing? You?”

“Eh?”

“Sing, me. You.”

“Um… you… want to sing for me?”

“Ne.”

“Right, you said you were a future idol or something…”

“Idoleu… singeu… danceu…”

“Idols sing and dance, I know. Well, here in South Korea. Back in Canada, usually people can’t do both. And when they see that I can, well, kind of, they just say I’m able to because I’m Asian.”

“Aejun?”

“Asian.”

“Aejun…”

“Asian, Kyu.”

Please not that again.

He looked at me with big curious eyes and I suddenly realized. I had called him “Kyu”. I bowed in front of him, letting go of his hand. “I’m sorry! I-I just…”

“Kyu?”

“I-I called you that and I’m sorry… I’m being too familiar with y-”

“Like. Kyu. Ne, like.”

Eeeeh? I straightened up and looked at him. He was tilting his head to the side and smiling. Erm… so he liked his new nickname? Maybe because this wasn’t the kind of nickname you gave to people in South Korea. “Kyu…?”

He turned to me with a big smile. “Like! Kyu, me. You call.”

“I’ll call you Kyu then…”

“Ne!”

I shook my head, sighing. That guy… He had told me he was older than me. One or two years, something like that. I couldn’t believe it. He was way too innocent to be older than me. I still followed him through Seoul, until he suddenly stopped, turned around and hugged me tightly… before he suddenly pressed a sweet, soft, delicate kiss on my forehead.