Noona, he calls her. A baby, she treats him. It's not like Taeyeon is the world's stupidest person nor is she the smartest, but she knows that there is something terribly wrong about their relationship. He's examining the stack of CDs on the foot of her shabby bed, concentration on his dark brown brows and a grim set on his upturned lips. He looks like he's in pain--in a beautiful way however--because whatever Minho does always turn out to be a majestic hue of beautiful and elegant, like a white prince from a far away country coming to save his princess. Tall, fair and back bare, Minho is indeed a sight to behold.

Taeyeon wonders what he is doing here.

"I didn't think you listen to the Beatles. You don't seem the type."

He turns and she meets his bright brown eyes, hitting her like sunshine on mornings it makes her eyes squint. Hunching, she hugs her pillow closer, in hopes to hide her child-like body from his view, afraid to be compared to his God-hand sculptured frame.

Her voice is still raw from all the shouting she had been doing a couple of minutes ago but she answers giddily. "They're a classic!"

"And overhyped. They are rather bland to me."

"You wouldn't understand. You're just a kid," she bites her tongue, almost wants to take the words back because here she goes again, Taeyeon sounding like a bitter woman trapped in her world of broken hearts and forgotten promises. What could have been a magnificent night would turn into a sour shout fest and banged door. She had reprimanded herself not to berate him for his looks and chew him out for his age.  Taeyeon has a knack for messing things up.

Instead of replying, Minho goes back to exploring her collectibles. Taeyeon wants to reach out and touch him, to apologize but her hands stop and she hurts. They're hitting the same curb again, progress halting once more because she couldn't shut . All the time, she wonders why he puts up with her and her grouchy attitude. Taeyeon isn't exactly the cheeriest cherry in the bowl and more often, she says the meanest things. She doesn't deserve him. And he must know this, right?

And then, Minho says the darnest things and it makes her smile because Minho is beautiful like this too. He is considerate and he understands her and maybe that's what she needs. Not a prince on a white horse or a perfect man with bright eyes and a greek-god body. She needs someone who would welcome a depressing person like her.

"You're the one who's a kid here, shorty."

"I'm not short, I'm normal. You're just abnormally tall!" She flings her pillow at him but it doesn't even touch him, doesn't even come close. It lands, however, on her neatly stacked CDs that crashes noisily.

Minho faces her with a scowl. Taeyeon hides under -herhistheir- blanket and prays that he isn't mad. She feels his cold hands grab her ankle then, and pulls hard, causing her to yelp.

"Hey!---oh," she blinks and she is face to face with Minho, a smirk on his lips. "Hello."

"Hi," he greets back. His fingers graze her lesg, her thighs, her waist, her s, her neck, her face. There's a sparkle in his eyes when he's looking at her, a soft look that makes her believe that he's mesmerized by her, even though it should be the other way around.

"I may be younger but I'm sure I have more experience than you, right noona?" She tells him that he's unfair and he only chuckles when she pouts, nuzzling her nose with his.

Noona, he calls her but he calls her as if she's his world.