It was a cold, silent night in Starlight Pier where the air itself seemed to mirror her inner turmoil. The streets were empty, save for the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the ground. Each step she took was heavy, her body aching not just from exhaustion, but from the emotional weight of the betrayals she had endured. Her breath fogged in the crisp air, yet even the bite of the cold couldn't numb the deep hurt she felt. The world around her seemed indifferent to her pain, as if the night itself had turned its back on her, offering no comfort in her solitude.
With each step, memories of those who had betrayed her resurfaced like old wounds torn open. Friends who had whispered false promises, lovers who had turned away in her moments of need, and the bitter taste of trust broken time and time again. She walked on, feeling as though the world had abandoned her, leaving her to carry her pain alone. Yet, despite the dejection weighing her down, there was a quiet resilience in her steps. Though her heart was heavy and her spirit battered, she continued forward, determined to endure even when everything inside her felt shattered. The cold night echoed her grief, but it also held the silence in which she could begin to heal.
Standing by the edge of Starlight Pier, Liora Castiel gazes out over the dark, rippling sea, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The soft glow of the bridge's reflection dances across the water, casting a delicate, shimmering light that mirrors the tumult of emotions within her. As she watches the gentle waves caress the pier's pillars, her expression is one of profound contemplation and quiet sorrow. The tranquil beauty of the scene contrasts sharply with the depth of her inner turmoil, making the moment both hauntingly beautiful and deeply poignant.
She is wearing a deep navy blue silk blouse with a subtle sheen, its fluid fabric catching the light softly as she moves. The blouse features delicate, sheer sleeves and a high neckline, adding a touch of sophistication while remaining understated. She pairs it with black tailored trousers that have a slight flare at the ankles, giving the outfit a refined silhouette. To complete the look, she wears simple silver stud earrings and a thin, silver bracelet on her wrist, adding just enough sparkle to complement the serene ambiance without overwhelming it. The outfit's muted colors and elegant cuts harmonize with the tranquil, moonlit setting of Starlight Pier.
She covered her mouth, stifling her sobs as she fixed her gaze on the dark, churning sea.
"Why must I endure this? Why does this relentless pain follow me? What have I done to deserve such punishment from the heavens? Why must I bear all of this alone?" Her voice trembled with anger and anguish, each word steeped in torment as tears streamed down her face.
Liora was stunned, bursting into laughter after her tears. She laughed so intensely that she nearly lost her balance and fell into the sea. Anyone witnessing her at that moment might have thought she had lost her mind, shifting from crying to laughing like a lunatic.
"What a mess," she thought, standing up drenched from the salty water and leaning against the large stone.
Liora was jolted from her self-pity. So what if she had no family, lost her job, or couldn't continue her internship? At least she hadn't lost herself in the process. In reality, she was disgusted by how easily she had let others exploit her kindness. Here she was, crying like a helpless princess waiting for a savior, even though her so-called knight in shining armor had run off with her cousin.
"Stupid Liora," she muttered repeatedly, her hands clenching into fists as her teeth ground with frustration.
She realized how pathetic she had been and recognized that she should have been the one to feel anger, not just self-pity. She deserved to complain—no, she had the right to. Liora pulled herself together and searched for her shoes, which had disappeared after her fall. The darkness made it impossible to find them, and her phone was also out of commission after getting wet. With a sigh, she walked away barefoot and cold, but she couldn't bring herself to complain; it was her own stupidity that had led to this situation.
She walked for a few minutes until her feet ached, then stopped near a light to inspect them. As she bent down, a large figure accidentally bumped into her, causing her to tumble onto the rough cement.
Overwhelmed by frustration and anger, she screamed at the top of her lungs, behaving more like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, stomping her feet in rage.
"You freaking bastards! You're all hooligans! Heartless beasts!" Liora yelled in fury.
The person in front of her was so taken aback by her outburst that he stood there dumbfounded, unable to defend himself in front of the onlookers.
In a panic, the man covered her mouth, bowing to the onlookers with an apologetic and embarrassed expression. Trying to maintain a fake smile and control his anger, he said, "My girlfriend has had too much to drink and lost her composure a bit."
He dragged her away from the crowd but stopped when Liora bit his left hand.
"Ouch! What are you, a rat?" he exclaimed, pulling his hand away from her.
Before he could even look at her after the bite, Liora headbutted him, almost making him lose his balance. Unable to contain his frustration, he grabbed her like a sack, enduring her struggles and kicks as he carried her to his car. He managed to get her inside, close the door, and lock it with the tinted windows obscuring them from view.
"Be quiet!" he ordered sternly, making her stop as she realized she was trapped inside the stranger's car.
"You—you're a kidnapper! What are you going to do to me?" Liora shouted, trying to cover her wet clothes with her hands.
He was so infuriated that he felt like hitting something. Just when he had hoped to unwind from his frustrations and workload, another problem had been thrust upon him.
"Excuse me Miss, you're the one ruining my peaceful day, screaming like a madwoman and making me lose face with your insanity!" he snapped in frustration.
Liora was too frustrated to speak, tears streaming down her face from exhaustion and hunger. Trapped in a stranger's car, she felt terrified about what might happen next.
"Will you stop crying already?" The man, feeling guilty for his outburst, couldn't help but show his frustration.
He realized it was his own fault for not paying attention earlier. Just as he was about to apologize, he was taken aback by Liora's unexpected reaction.
He looked at the woman beside him and realized he had been mistaken about her. Her disheveled appearance had led him to wrongly assume she was a beggar or a street person.
His thoughts run wild as he look at her from head toe, despite of being drenched in saltwater, her tear-streaked face held an undeniable beauty. Her messy, windswept hair clung to her face, accentuating the raw emotion in her eyes, while her bare feet, caked in sand, added to the disheveled yet captivating image. Even in her vulnerable state, there was a poignant grace in her presence, as if her spirit shone through the chaos of her appearance, making her beauty all the more striking amidst the storm of her emotions.
He removed his coat and draped it over her, sighing as he spoke. "I'm not planning to do anything. I only brought you here because you were so out of control earlier. I apologize for bumping into you; it wasn't intentional at all."
She gradually turned to face him, and as she saw the sincerity in his expression, Liora's tears ceased, replaced by an embarrassed apology.
"I'm sorry. I let my messed-up life drive me to vent my frustration on you," she said, looking away.
He watched her for a moment, his gaze troubled by the sight of her pale feet, marked with scratches and blood.
"She must have walked barefoot," he thought, realizing that her otherwise decent clothes contradicted his initial assumption of her being a scammer or beggar.
He grabbed his keys, started the car, and asked, "Where do you live?"
"Nowhere," she replied bitterly.
He didn't press further upon seeing her cold expression and instead headed to a clothing store.
"Wait here, and don't even think about running off with my car—it's customized for the owner only," he said authoritatively.
Liora rolled her eyes and waited in the car. For some reason, the man didn't seem dangerous, though his tone was definitely irritating. There was an undeniable sense of authority and pushiness in his manner, yet he appeared to be a gentleman with a cold, steady demeanor.
Liora remembered how easily he had lifted her earlier, as if she were as light as paper on his broad shoulder. Her thoughts were interrupted when the man returned with clothes and a pair of shoes, waiting outside the car for her to change.
Liora emerged from the car in a new outfit that Lumen had brought her, feeling an immediate sense of comfort and relief. The clothes were soft and well-fitted, consisting of a cozy, well-made sweater and a pair of relaxed jeans that allowed her to move easily. The shoes were a perfect fit—simple yet supportive, with cushioned soles that eased her sore, scraped feet. The transformation from her previous disheveled state to the snug, practical outfit not only provided physical comfort but also offered a semblance of dignity and warmth in contrast to her earlier distress.
He got into the car and started the engine when he suddenly heard her stomach growl.
Flustered by his gaze, she felt even more embarrassed as he allowed a small grin to escape. As they drove down the road, she noticed a familiar store and quickly told him to stop. It was the shop she had longed to visit, a place she had avoided due to all the insults and distress from people she despised. She hadn't stepped foot in a store like that in a long time.
"That place—let's go there," she demanded.
The man raised an eyebrow at her authoritative tone, thinking she sounded like a bit of a spoiled brat. He wasn't sure if his guess was right, or if there was more to this stranger than he knew.
They arrive in the small street store, lively eatery where locals gather to enjoy grilled samgyeopsal (pork belly) and drink soju. The atmosphere is cozy and unpretentious, with simple metal tables and stools under bright tarpaulin covers. A small grill sits in the middle of each table, where diners cook their own meat, filling the air with the delicious aroma of sizzling pork. Side dishes like kimchi, garlic, and lettuce wraps are plentiful, while bottles of soju are shared among friends and strangers alike. The warm lighting and bustling chatter create an inviting, down-to-earth environment where people unwind after a long day, making it a popular setting for heartfelt conversations on workers, friends and lovers.
Liora jumped out of the car excitedly, running inside to find a spot, with the man following close behind like some kind of guardian for this seemingly lost child.
"What are these?" she asked, turning to him.
He was equally baffled, surprised that she seemed unfamiliar with the place she had chosen.
"I have no idea," he admitted, as it was his first time there too. The smoke rising from the other tables added to the heat, and he felt a bead of sweat forming.
"This place is crowded and hot," he muttered, watching as she focused intently on the menu.
"I want this, this, this, and this," she said eagerly, pointing out items to the waitress.
When their food arrived, Liora tried to cook with enthusiasm, but the result was disastrous. Left with no choice, the man took over. Fortunately, his experience from living alone had taught him how to cook, and he managed to salvage the burnt, inedible food, turning it into something edible.
After finishing their meal, Liora grabbed an entire bottle of soju and drank it straight from the bottle, not bothering with a glass. She kept drinking to her heart's content, not stopping until she finally knocked herself out from the alcohol.
Amused by her bold behavior, the man watched without intervening. When she eventually passed out from drunkenness, he sighed, shook his head, and paid the bill. Then, he scooped her up and carried her to his car.
He called one of his best friends to arrange a room for the night.
They arrived at an upscale hotel, where the grand entrance was adorned with polished marble floors and crystal chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow. The lobby was a picture of elegance, with sleek, modern furnishings, plush velvet seating, and carefully curated artwork on the walls. The air smelled faintly of fresh flowers, and soft classical music played in the background. As they made their way to the elevator, the luxurious details continued—gleaming brass fixtures, immaculate decor, and attentive staff who moved with quiet efficiency. The suite they were led to was equally opulent, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking city view, a king-sized bed with plush linens, and a private lounge area. The atmosphere was one of understated sophistication and comfort, a stark contrast to the chaos earlier in the night.
He laid her down gently on the bed, carefully removing her shoes and covering her with a blanket. This was the first time he had ever taken care of someone who wasn't connected to him in any way. He was supposed to be on a break, yet here he was, looking after a spoiled, uncontrollable stranger who was now sleeping soundly in the hotel bed.
Leaving a note and some cash for her, he chose not to leave his name, confident that their paths would cross again. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head in amusement. It had been a long day, and now it was time to leave the sleeping beauty behind and return to his own world.
As he locked the door behind him, he called his secretary, still holding a small accessory he had picked up earlier.
"Find me the details on a woman named Liora Castiel," he instructed.
The next morning, Loria awoke to the gentle glow of sunlight, feeling unusually refreshed and content. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was as if she had finally stirred from a long, deep slumber. As her eyes fluttered open, she quickly realized the bedroom around her was unfamiliar, causing her to sit up in alarm.
She immediately checked her clothes, relieved to find them still securely on her body. Glancing around, she called out, but it became clear she was alone. Her gaze shifted to the bedside table, where a note lay beside a stack of cash. She picked it up and read:
"You're probably awake by now. Breakfast will be delivered at 7. No need to thank me. I only hope we never cross paths again, you little rat.
Sincerely, LD."
Her face turned bright red as the truth hit her—none of it had been a dream. It was all real.
"What the hell, Liora?!" she groaned, utterly embarrassed.