His face cleared, and a smile replaced the furrow in his eyebrows. “I thought you’d never ask. I’m fine now.”

Now.

“How were you doing?”

He let out a laugh then, “You always ask the right questions.”

“You didn’t seem fine earlier.”  

“You’re right, I wasn’t. I was worried, and exhausted, and frustrated, and more things I’m usually not.”

“Was,” I repeated.

“Was,” the one word sounded final as he nodded to the windows.

“You’re saying you’re fine now.”

“Yes, but only because I saw this one person who seems fine. It seems I worried over nothing.”  

“Is it safe to assume that this person is me?”

“Very,” Mr. Dong turned to me, eyes searching as if he wanted to see how I would react, but my face was dead as usual. I was always trying to project the same face, to not show any kind of discomfort or frustration because it was easier that way. I wouldn’t need to have an additional headache from excessive creasing of my forehead.

“Why, I thought we were done talking about this.” Every meeting with Mr. Dong felt like a breath of fresh air because that was what he was, but we would talk further and he would always build me up only to tear me down.

“I thought so, too. I can’t help but be worried. It’s in me.”

“This is why I don’t attend your class sir.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand. I should understand why you’re doing this. I’m not your responsibility. I’m not your child or your sister, I’m just you’re student. Please don’t get yourself involved in my business.”

Mr. Dong’s hand found mine as I tried to stand up, “Byul, you need to breathe,” my eyebrows met each other. What sick joke!

“I don’t need you to do that. I only need the people I have, and you’re not one of those people, sir. Please stop. And don’t ask me why I’m running away.” I pried my wrist from his hand and I walked away immediately. “It’s because you keep chasing me.”

My feet were cold as I ran away. My fingers trembled as well. I was afraid, needless to say. I didn’t expect Mr. Dong to act so irrational. My heart was racing with rage, and I knew it would take long before I would talk to him again, or if I ever would.

The way he behaved towards me made me feel like I was some sort of frail doll which I wasn’t. I was already broken, and he didn’t need to cradle me like I would break any minute. I didn’t need a hand to keep me from falling when I’ve a