"I'm tired of lying."

I relax on my red leather couch with my legs stretched out and listen to the soft pitter patter of the rain outside. I look at Taemin's red curled hair and notice the natural black emerging from the roots again. I run my fingers through it and enjoy how soft it is. He sits on a little pillow on the floor in front of me like he usually does when he's upset, I try and calm him down, which is hard because I am upset, too.

"Maybe we could just tell the world that we're engaged. I mean, your fans HAVE to understand that most people need to find love at some point."

"I know, but remember what happened to Jonghyun when he tried to date someone? Imagine what would happen to you! I love you too much to let that happen."

"Come here," I reach out my hands and he turns around to face me. He grabs on to both of mine and I rub the backs of his hands with my thumbs and pull him down gently to sit next to me on the couch. He smiles slightly and I rest my head on his stiff shoulder. It relaxes. I can hear every quivering breath he takes in, trying not to let the tears fall.

"It's okay, oppa. Go ahead."

I don't look up, but I feel a bit of warm water like a drop of rain fall onto my hair as he rests his forehead against the top of my head. He places kisses gently on my hair and his breath is shakier than ever now. I lift my head and wrap my arms around his neck. I look into his deep brown eyes, overflowing with tears, representing an undying love and a year-long struggle for it. I bring my head towards his, and he follows. Our lips touch, I taste the salt of his tears on his lips and he caresses mine slowly. I stroke his hair and he, mine. He pulls back. He's done expelling his feelings and can now speak.

"I really hope that we can work this out, maybe we should try and introduce you to the public more with me. They could meet you, hear your voice, get used to you, maybe they'll understand our love then," Taemin whispers.

"Are you saying you want me to your concerts and awards shows as your date or something?" I ask.

"No, I think we're going to need a bit more than that," he starts to smile. "You have a beautiful singing voice, you know that."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"You want me to perform? But how?"

He just smiles and nods. I don't have a good feeling about this.

To be continued if this gets a good response