Love In The Time Of Coffee | Yunho [Ongoing]

14 | after sunset

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EVERY YUNHO WAS MADE FOR a Yeonah. And vice versa. Where did this leave the Kims with birth names as persecutive as Yong Shû, I wondered.

Having sent Yeonah off to my happy ever after in his corner office, the concept had ran with me afterwards, from the office of one executive to the other, through pitstops to be engaged by a fellow employee or a buddy. By late evening, a mode of coexisting had been established with it lodged up in my mind as I wrapped up the last duties for the day. Now it was early night. Eight-ish. The bell has been rung, work is done, the labourers filing out automated doors, farewells are being bid, some headed for their private vehicles, others also headed for the private vehicles of the owners of private vehicles—"Can I get a lift?"

I found myself fit in a mood that left me reeling need to fuss over why neither me nor Hwa nor Eunji nor Yeri could afford a second-hand automobile at least. Nobody wanted to think communal travel after their mind has been subdued by the worst of mental agonies. (Why is she here? What if Yunho never said anything about a date at his house and it's all been in my head that I'd said yes? Is it possible that I can be desirable when it counts? Did Yunho apologize without reason? Am I delusional?)

"Only once it's been verified are you then permitted to indulge the heavy cogitations to nowhere." The voice was distant and echoey, conveying I really needed to get out of my head. It also sounded like Seonghwa's. Harking back to the present, I get reminded that Seonghwa was here, co-labourer and carless, a trench coat hanging off his shoulders. I would admit this to myself: despite feeling nothing but thorough exasperation and the episodic moments where I stopped to feel everything akin to adoration for what a human he truly was, Seonghwa did pass on for a knockout. His stance as he stood there communicated he also acquiesced this to be fact.

"I refuse to honour that with a rejoinder. Home?" Of course not. If my shared apartment had been my destination, I would've joined Mia and Yerim earlier. It hadn't escaped my notice that Mia seemed particularly relieved by the arrangement. Yerim was just happy to be out of here—that was what it meant when you had someone to come home to. Minhyung did it for her. Once upon a time, I almost resembled that in many aspects. Yunho and his office; the passable heart-to-heart and the unsubstantiated apology.

"No, Kim. Not home," Seonghwa stated the obvious by way of playing along, an eye flicker that told me he was always ready to patronise all my stupid questions. His arm found my shoulders to dangle from; I willed myself not to have most-recent-afternoon flashbacks. His other hand squeezed my upper limb. "You know what Xiao Lang's assistant needs." He wasn't asking. "A vodka refueling, get that brain working again. Even though at this rate I fear the stiffer the better. We'll see how it goes."

Maybe I was more tired than I felt if I was conveniently relaxing into the implicative comfort of Seonghwa's bosom. The last thing to think of was what picture it painted to the lot of our mates who wouldn't mind stopping to observe. In the real way of it, no one was supposed to care. I was so distressed that not even Yunho would have me breaking away.

"Don't insult me," I said, on the verge of snapping.

"Never." Seonghwa flashed down a grin, released me, glanced up and behind at the mention of his name. He smiled and waved. The faint rumble of a chuckle in his chest as he chirped a 'night' and 'my regards to the family'. I could never fathom how one went about becoming a people person. If Seonghwa wasn't here, no one would spare a breath my way. Nothing was stopping them now. A married man like the one Seonghwa was exchanging pleasantries with would especially keep his distance, lest news returned to the wife how he'd committed adultery via the act of farewelling some woman outside the office, after work, late into the night. "That was Youngjo, he had that look." I had Seonghwa's attention again.