SOOYOUNG POV:

I'm startled to find him lying face down in the snow, unconscious and sprawled half across the road. It was fortunate that hardly any cars drove on the roads in snow. I walked over to him and bent down, inspecting him. Like always, seeing him sent a flutter through my stomach, and I smiled despite the situation. Reaching out a hand delicately, I sweep his hair off his face and his closed eyelids. So vulnerable, yet so beautiful in his unconsciousness. 

It would be difficult to stand him up and walk him home. And what if he woke up? I shake myself firmly. No, you're taking him home; you're not leaving him here to die of cold. I draw a deep breath and take his arm, heavy from sleep. I drape it tightly around my neck and slowly stand up, supporting his weight. He was lighter than I expected, and I was strongly built from dragging bags of rice home, so walking wasn't that difficult. Every so often I glanced down at his still face, expecting him to wake up. 

His body was warm, and although he slumped heavily against me, it felt comfortable and... right. Just enjoy the moment, I told myself  as we trudged along. It'll be over soon. The wind blew gently against us, and we walked beneath an archway  made by a canopy of snow-topped  trees. It was the perfect romantic movie setting. Too bad  Minho wasn't conscious to relish the moment with me. 

Soon, much to soon, we had arrived at his house. I stared up at his giant mansion, wondering whether to go in or deposit him outside. I decided to hand him over, but just at the front door. No entering the house. No temptations. 

A servant answered the door after a few knocks, looking shocked. "Master Choi!" She exclaimed, prying him from me and then studying me haughtily as if I was some vermin that had crawled up the doorsteps. I bowed my head and turned to leave, but a bony, ringed hand came down on my shoulder. I looked up into the stormy face of Madame Choi and gulped. "I found him in the snow and.... He was going to die." I stuttered, turning to beg for mercy. 

She pursed her lips dissaprovingly and glared down at me, eyes boring holes into me. Fear ran through my body and I felt my knees go weak. "I hire you, Choi Sooyoung, to tutor him. I don't need you to be walking home with my son in your arms!" Her voice was high-pitched with anger.  

I bit back the cutting remark I was going to make and fell silent. "You will no longer be required. You are fired." Her voice was deadly quiet, and the coldness almost brought me to tears. "I was only trying to help." I whispered.  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I squinted up at the  older woman, despising her. Then I silently ventured into the snowstorm and headed  home. 

MINHO POV:

I woke up in my bed, wrapped up in sheets with steaming towels layered across my forehead. My mother stooped over me, looking motherly and sympathetic. She  held a bowl of duck porridge in one hand, the other hand resting on my legs. "You're awake, darling." Her voice was dripping syrup. Too sweet. 

I cringed and tried to sit up, but pain shoots through my head and I lower myself down again. "Who brought me back home?" I croak. 

My mother smiles, her teeth flashing. "I did. I saw you lying in the snow and brought you back.  I went looking for you, you see. You were going to die. I was worried." 

Relief washes through me. For a moment, I had thought... Those familiar boots...  "Thanks mum." I clutch her hand gratefully to my chest, overwhelmed at her sudden kindness. Maybe I had misunderstood my mother all along. Maybe she really did love me a lot. 

SOOYOUNG POV:

I lie on my side, face to the wall, sobbing into the mattress. Mother and Evangeline had long given up trying to comfort me, and now I could hear them cooking together by the stove.

I was jobless, love-less and hopeless. My life was a disaster. I bury my knuckles between my teeth and allow my sobbing to reside into tired hiccups. I let my thoughts wander. Only yesterday I had been happy; I had had a crush,a great relationship with my sister, a loving mother, a secure job,  above average class marks and a bright future. Now I was a snivelling mess. I felt like punching the wall, but what would that achieve? Bloody knuckles and extra money to pay to patch up the hole.  

The familiar stench of old, reheated kimchi wafts to my nostrils and I feel a surge of hate. Why did we have to be so poor, live in an apartment the size of a cupboard and eat kimchi porridge everyday? It was so unfair, and I blamed my mother. No, my grandmother. Why couldn't she have just stayed with her abusive husband in the first place?? Then none of this would've happened, Minho and I wouldn't have been in this mess and maybe my life would have turned out better.