In The Years Left

Tao never left Jiyoon’s side since that day.

She constantly asked him if he had to do more important things and often told him that she wanted some alone time. He refused to leave her most of the time, claiming that he wanted to be able to be there for her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, and God knows how many years in a lifetime.

He looked after her every chance that he got. He made sure that she ate enough, did all her homework, got to sleep at a certain time, didn’t stay out too late, and stayed far away from Xero and his friends.

Tao sent the other boy glares whenever they met eyes, warning him to stay as far away as he could possibly get.

Of course, Xero didn’t listen.

Whenever Tao looked away for just a moment, Xero was beside Jiyoon in a flash, taunting and teasing her crudely. Whenever Tao looked back, he would glare threateningly at Xero, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her away with him.

And if Tao was ever not there to look after her, he knew that Soojung or Ilhoon, Eunkwang’s friend, could look after her, too. But Tao truly preferred being able to be next to her whenever he possibly could. He rarely even let her walk home alone, staying by her side even then.

“Tao,” Jiyoon began, holding her warm hot chocolate in her hands, “why are you doing this? You know that I won’t try again…”

Tao blinked in surprise, looking at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “What do you mean? I’m not doing this because I’m afraid of you getting low. I’m doing it because I don’t want you to be alone again,” he replied.

Shaking her head, she managed a small smile. “You’re with me practically every single second of the day, like my own… angel, I guess you could say.”

“If you want to think of me that way, I’d love to be your angel. Your very own guardian, sent down from Heaven to guide you to happiness.” Tao chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle Jiyoon’s hair. She protested half-heartedly, smoothing down her hair after Tao pulled his hand away.

As she did, she peered up at him.

“Thanks, Tao. I’m glad it’s you that’s my guardian angel.” She paused for a moment. “What’s the Chinese word for angel?”

Tao thought for a moment, trying to recall the language he barely used in his life in Korea. “Tianshi,” he finally replied after a moment of thought.

Jiyoon pursed her lips. “That’s not exactly a very manly word, now is it?”

“Not really,” he agreed with a short bark of laughter.

“And how do you say guardian angel?”

Tao took another moment to think, slowly replying, “Shouhu tianshi.” He paused for another second. “Huh. That doesn’t sound very manly either, to be perfectly honest.”

“Shouhu tianshi…” Jiyoon mumbled thoughtfully. “Tao… um, correct me if I’m wrong here, but… Wo shi ni de shouhu tianshi.”

Those words made him pause for a moment, his entire body freezing.

They were simple words in Mandarin, easy words that most kids knew before they were able to tell time or say the date. Yet they were words that meant so much to him.

He swallowed his tears, not wanting to seem weak in front of her. “You’re… you’re learning Mandarin?” he asked somewhat breathlessly as he fought the tears of joy and gratitude from slipping down his face.

Jiyoon flushed red. “Yeah, but my accent is horrible, according to Minseok. You understood at least, that’s good.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding Tao’s eyes as she turned her crimson tinted face away from him.

Tao could barely help himself at this point.

I want to spend the rest of my life with this girl.

His mind and heart were, for once, in agreement. They both wanted the same thing; they both wanted to be able to express the love his entire being held for Jiyoon, the girl who had changed his life and whose life he saved.

She smiled again, looking back at him. Her face was more of a pink hue, the red having faded away. “I’m getting better, at least. Andi and Kris offered to help me learn English and Cantonese, too,” she added with a smile, taking a sip of her all but forgotten drink that probably wasn’t even warm at that point.

Tao’s mind and heart were both screaming at him.

Stupid! Don’t let her change the subject! Say something!

“Hey, Jiyoon, did Minseok teach you what wo ai ni means?” he blurted, his words tumbling from his lips before he could even attempt to contain himself.

Jiyoon paused in her speech to recall just what Minseok had taught her over the phone and through Skype. She knew that “ai” was a verb, considering “wo” meant “me” and “ni” meant “you.”

But what that verb was in Korean was beyond her.

“No… but ai has to be a verb.”

Tao smiled a little. “Hey, can you… can you say it for me? Wo ai ni?” he asked quietly. He didn’t want her to turn him down or question him further. In fact, he had no plans on telling her what those words meant. He just wanted to hear them come from her, even if she didn’t know what they meant.

“Wo… Wo ai ni,” she said.

A confused expression was plastered over her face.

Tao’s own face broke into a smile. “Thank you, Jiyoon. And, um… wo ye ai ni.”

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, cupping her cheek in his hand, and rested his lips on her forehead. It was only for a second, but to Tao, it felt