Hacking Seoul

0.25 - Strangers Still

The proclamation of their arrival did not miss him no matter how hard he feigned ignorance. The unavoidable was finally here, under his calm disguise, frenzied and amorphous thoughts attacked his being and soul. Soft, buttery lights spilled out of the empty lobby of his luxurious hotel, welcoming him back from the untamed streets yet even though he belonged there, everything besides his reasons was telling him he belonged here, with her.

His heartbreaking moment of solitude did not last long.

"So, shall I say, 'It was a pleasure meeting you'? 'I had a great time'? Something like, 'Despite the absurdity of it all, thanks for . . . being the only sound and believable part of tonight'?" The nervousness in her voice was as new as dew. It was something he hadn't gotten from her this entire night. He turned to look at her in silence, bathing himself once more, for the very last time, in all her glorious beauty. The way his heart was pounding was surely bruising his chest.

"We should come up with something memorable and special to commemorate our wild night together. Something like, 'Here is one last goodbye kiss for the stranger,' maybe?" He was never good at saying goodbyes. The fake suavity in his voice was giving him disgusted goosebumps.

"Or we can just stick with 'It was fun while it lasted, now get out before I know your name.'"

"So you do want to know," he said teasingly.

To his immense surprise, she shrugged boldly without denying or even blinking once, the red on her face lovelier than sunset. "It doesn't matter. I'm never going to see you again."

"So you want to see me again."

"You have cute accent." What?!

He stared at her with his mouth half open as she broke into an attractive laugh.

"It's . . . enchanting. It's great. I like it." She looked poised and stunningly beautiful and her compliment whipped him all the way to seventh heaven. He couldn't process this completely unanticipated development at all.

"And I like yours." He blinked and cocked his head. "Try saying oppa with your American accent."

She laughed again and shook her head. "Don't you mean 'oppa-ya'?"

Oh.

Ooh.

That was what she meant . . . He couldn't believe this . . .

"When did I start to speak in Busan accent?" He croaked huskily. Had he been speaking to her in Busan accent all this time?!

The awe and shock on his face must have been pretty amazing. She went into a giggling fit that ended with a barely noticeable wink before she looked away and bit her lip a bit regretfully.

"When were you not speaking in Busan accent?" Her lips curved into a small smile. Then she cleared her throat. "But that's enough of my awkward confession. I just haven't known people who speak with that kind of accent. It's new. That's all."

She was clearly trying to keep the situation under control. He smirked and leaned in.

"I'm glad I charmed you."

For the first time tonight, the girl looked like she was at a loss for words. He held her gaze and enjoyed the moment as long as he could before her wits set back in. Her eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips and he felt his mouth water. He dropped his gaze to her lips as she looked away quickly in embarrassment. Two more seconds and he would be kissing her . . .

"Would you please grab that for me?" Her face had transformed into a mixture of prompted irritation in his lapse. He followed her eyes to something next to his feet.

On the ground was a small, undecorated box. Something told him this box was a lot more important than it looked. He handed the box to her cautiously, alarmed by the newly formed scowl and indignation on her pretty face.

"Take it." She said in a steady voice, catching him completely by surprise once again. "It's for you, stranger."

He stared at her with a wary frown. This was definitely not for him, the stranger. Why was she giving him this?

"No questions allowed. Just take it. Don't say anything."

"I'm not taking it."

"Please."

The sudden change of tone mellowed him entirely. This was the softest her attitude had been ever since he met her. He turned to glare at her intently now. There was no smile on her face.

"Don't tell me your name." She leaned in slowly until she was so close to him her sweet murmur tickled. "This is goodbye. Take the box and leave me now, stranger."

He shuddered as she backed away from him and he looked into her eyes hotly as his hand reached for the door handle on its own accord. NO! A voice was howling in the back of his head. He gripped the handle hard. Was he really just leaving her like this? Never to see her again? With no ways of contact, not even knowing her name?

She pulled her lips into a smile as if she could read his mind and looked squarely into his eyes. "C'mon. Be a big boy."

The amount of conflicting pain that came with her purposely lowered voice was life-threatening. He was ripped apart, wholly and utterly by her pristine resolution. How finite her tone was, how immovable her countenance remained. He should be capped by his reality as an idol but it was her absolute resolve, the way she left no room for a margin of error, that tore his heart into pieces.

"Thank you for taking me back."

He pushed the door open and got out of her car, his hand keeping the door open as he locked her eyes with his.

"I won't ask for your name, but I will tell you mine. I am . . ."

"Don't tell me!" She stepped on the gas and the car shot forward as he spun around, only to see it grow smaller and smaller, disappearing eventually into the vague darkness that consumed the street.

Frustration, disbelief and self-blame crushed him all at once. How could he have let her go without knowing even her name?! She's gone! He stared at the lonely street and took a step back unsteadily, his brain still frozen in time, twenty seconds ago. When he was in her car staring lovingly into her eyes.

The loss of that moment sucked all air out of him. He took in a huge breath and closed his eyes to try to sort out his jumbled mind. He was back. Back to his perfect life as a beloved idol. Starting a romance with a stranger on the street was and never would be an acceptable option for him. He looked down at the box numbly, his vision blurred. The box had deformed in his hand under his harsh grip and he took no care in ripping it open.

Snugly fit into the box was a shiny cup. He took it out of the box slowly with trembling hands and raised it up to eye level to examine the hand-painted sides. It was simple and very carefully done.

For D,

from your love,

S.

The cursive letters stood on the body of the cup amidst endless sandy shore, navy blue waves, and a forever setting sun. He rubbed his thumb over the words tenderly and whispered only loud enough for himself to hear.

"D for Daehyun."

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