Jihoon hasn't slept well in years.
Not since he survived the accident that killed the woman he loved.
Yingyue never leaves her house.
Not since her parents died in a car crash two years ago.
Both crippled by their own fears, the two of them should...
Never thought I'd see the sun again, Resigned, I waited for my dreadful end. Yet meeting you threw a wrench in fate's plans, Coz even the rain is weakened by your single glance. - J
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Kang Jihoon.
He was her first conscious thought.
Last night was a dream come true.
No, scratch that. Every dream she ever had of Jihoon before they met paled in comparison to the actual experience of having him in her arms. With his lips, his hands, and his words, Jihoon brought to life every naughty fantasy she had of him and more.
A satisfied smile spread across her face. Yingyue leisurely stretched her arms over her head and slowly blinked the sleep off her eyes. On the bedside table, the digital clock blinked back the time. It was ten minutes past seven in the morning. Weak tendrils of light filtered through the slats of her horizontal blinds, giving the room a hazy, muted glow. At once, the opening notes to a Jay Chou song started playing in her head.
From the day I fell in love with you... Happiness was so easy.
Giggling, she carefully turned, holding her breath in anticipation of that first sight of him in the morning. When an empty pillow greeted her, instead, she exhaled, disappointment curving her body like a deflated balloon.
Groaning at the soreness of her muscles, Yingyue propped herself up with one hand and scanned the room. A frown settled on her brow. Strewn on the floor were the clothes he hastily peeled from her body last night— used and discarded, but Jihoon's own clothes were nowhere to be found. Dread began to claw at her consciousness, threatening to ward away her newfound joy.
Surely he wouldn't leave without first saying goodbye? She searched for her phone, but remembered she had left it downstairs. Giving her blanket an impatient kick, Yingye got out of bed and grabbed the robe she hanged by her closet. After hastily shoving her hands into the sleeves, she rushed out of the room while securing the ties around her waist.
As she padded down the stairs, thunder rumbled outside. She could hear rain pelting against the windows, mimicking the storm brewing in her heart. By the time Yingyue reached the ground floor, she was out of breath. Inhaling deeply, she tuned her ear to signs of life but was met with dead silence.
He wasn't the type to hit and run, was he?
How would you know? A gleefully sinister voice taunted. Only foolish old you would think you know him when you know nothing at all.
She clenched her hands, acknowledging the thought, but refusing to let herself be swayed by it. Although it's true she and Jihoon hadn't known each other for long, but she was sure what they shared last night went beyond passing lust. It had been too raw, too intimate, too real. Though she didn't dare give what transpired between them a name, it gave her the certainty that he at least felt something for her. It lingered in between his passionate kisses. It was there with his every caress. And, when the fires of passion had burned out and they lay entwined in each others arms, she felt it in the steady rise and fall of his heart beating against her chest.
