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Miss Aya just looked at me as I picked up the paper from the floor. When I handed it to him, he stared at me for a few seconds before slowly taking it from my hand.

"Oh. I forgot, I still have this in my purse." She was referring to the folded paper I handed him.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Miss Aya. I got curious about the folded paper when I was about to put your purse somewhere else. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. But, who's Erron? "

AYA

I swallowed as I gradually tightened my grip on the letter I was holding.

I didn't notice that the paper in my hand was slowly being crumpled because of my tight grip. I calmed myself down and quickly sorted it out.

"Erron is... My first love." I stammered.

"Aw, sweet. He's giving you love letters? Where is he now? Aren't you getting married yet?" Camilla asked one question after another, which is why I bowed down. I kept the tears from falling from my eyes.

I took a deep breath.

When my breathing calmed a little, I looked up to tell the story.

"He's already lying comfortably in his coffin."

"Oh?" Camilla exclaimed.

I wiped the runaway tear from my cheek with my thumb.

"I'm sorry for being talkative." Camilla apologized.

I turned to him. "It's okay. Maybe... Maybe this is what I really need. Maybe I need to vent out everything I'm feeling, for once."

I breathed a huge amount of air.

"Maybe I have to admit to myself that I haven't really accepted his death yet, even though four long years have passed, I still don't want to let him go." I added.

I was eight years old when my driver picked me up late after school. I was crying alone at the parking lot when an older boy approached me, offering me his handkerchief, while his other hand was trying to reach for me.

"Here. Get this, don't cry." he said.

I hesitated to accept his handkerchief. Mom told me not to trust strangers because they might use me as a bait to bring down our company.

At that moment, I didn't know why I stretched my hand to reach for his.

With a trembling voice, I asked,

"Who are you?"

The boy flashed a smile.

"My name is Erron. And you are?"

I didn't notice that he was holding my hand. I was too young back then, yet I let him see the vulnerable side of me. "My name is Dayanara, but my family and friends call me 'Aya!" I answered after a pause.

"Hi Aya! Why are you here alone? And why are you crying?" he asked consecutively.

That was the first time I let a stranger talk to me and even held my hand.

We became close friends since then

We were best if friends.

Until one day, he started acting weird.

He's giving me gifts even though there's no occasion, I oftenly caught him staring at me, and I don't know why I started feeling butterflies in my stomach everytime he held my hand.

I never felt this when we were younger.