The bus rolled past scenic spots and landmarks, the city lights flickering like whispers of untold stories. Night had fallen heavily, but neither Ji-Hoon nor Sana was ready to part.
When they finally stepped off at Yeouido Hangang Park, the Han River stretched before them like a ribbon of quiet reflection.
The crisp night air embraced them as they strolled, hand in hand, stopping at a small vendor to grab warm drinks. Sana chose Sikhye, drawn to its sweet, nostalgic flavour, while Ji-Hoon opted for Omija tea, its fragrant tang a perfect complement to the cool night. They left their earlier sketches with the vendor, who had kindly offered to keep them safe.
Under the faint glow of the city lights reflecting on the water, they walked in a shared silence that needed no words. The river's gentle murmur accompanied the occasional sound of crickets, creating a serene backdrop.
Ji-Hoon suddenly stopped, turning to face Sana. His expression was unreadable for a moment, the shadows and light playing across his features. The pause was heavy, charged with emotions he'd kept tightly sealed.
"I don't want to feel this with anyone else," he began, his voice low but steady. His eyes searching hers for something – reassurance, understanding, or maybe the courage to continue. "I'm not saying I'm perfect at this, or that I won't mess up. Honestly…I'm terrified I will."
Sana tilted her head, her eyes softening, urging him to continue.
"I've never known how to love carefully, Sana," Ji-Hoon confessed, his grip on her hand tightening. "What I have to give isn't measured. It's all of me – the good parts and the messy parts. The parts I don't even understand about myself yet. And I know that's not easy to take in."
Taking a small step closer, he closed the space between them. "But with you, it's different. You make me want to be honest, not just with you, but with myself. And I can promise you this: I will always be honest with you. Even when I can't find the right words, or when I feel like I can't tell you everything just yet…I won't lie. I'll come around eventually. I just need you to be patient with me."
His lips curved into a faint, shaky smile. "You make me believe in something I didn't think I could have. And if I let go of this now, of you…I know I'll never find it again. What I feel when I'm with you – its worth facing my fears, my flaws, everything I've been running from."
His voice dropped to a whisper, but his gaze never wavered. "So…will you still take me in? Knowing that this is what I have to offer?"
For a moment, Sana couldn't breathe. Her drink slipped from her hand, forgotten, as her gaze searched his face. His words carried a weight she hadn't expected but felt deeply.
She wanted to say yes immediately, but something within her stirred – a need to let him see her too, as she truly was.
"I've never really let anyone get close enough to matter," Sana began, her voice steady at first but trembling as she continued. "I sometimes feel like a hypocrite, taking advantage of other people's kindness, knowing I'll never give them the same access to me."
Her gaze locked on Ji-Hoon's, tears streamed down her face, but she didn't bother wiping them away. "I can handle physical wounds – pain, given enough time, they will heal and scab over. But the wounds to my heart, my soul – the ones that don't bleed, the ones I have to carry everyday – those are the ones I can't face. And they only come from someone who matters."
Her voice wavered, but she continued. "So I run. I run from people, from anything that might hurt me again. It was enough just to exist, to live quietly. It was enough…until I saw you. You, juggling oranges for children in the park, smiling seemingly happily but with a tinge of sadness nevertheless. I didn't know it then, but now, thinking about it, is when you started breaking down walls I didn't even realise I'd built so high."
A faint, tearful smile tugged at her lips. "I tend to retreat when things get hard. It's a habit I've never managed to break. And if we start something – if we step into this together – I don't know who I might become. I've been running even from myself for so long that parts of me still feel like a stranger."
She paused, her breath itching. "But for the first time, I don't want to run. Not from you. I want you to see me – all of me, flaws and fears and everything in between. And I want to love you, Ji-Hoon. If you'll let me, will you let me?"
Ji-Hoon drink fell to the ground as he stepped closer, his hands gently cradling her face. His thumbs brushed away her tears, the tenderness of his touch sending shivers down her spine. He rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the quiet night.
"I'll let you love me all you want," he murmured, a playful softness weaving through his words. "But only if you take me in. I'm not some garçon facile, you know."
A laugh escaped her lips, light and unrestrained, chasing away the lingering sadness in her eyes. "Mm", she whispered, her eyes gleaming with emotion. "I'll take you in."
Ji-Hoon pulled back slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. The look in his eyes was steady, searching, and so profoundly sincere it made her breath hitch. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, with a voice filled with a vulnerability that wrapped around her heart.
She nodded, no hesitation, no second-guessing.
The kiss started soft, tentative, like they were testing the waters of something vast and new. Their lips moved slowly, exploring the depth of what they had just confessed. But as the kiss deepened, it became something more frantic – urgent, consuming, as though they were trying to pour every unspoken word and every unshed tear into this moment.
Ji-Hoon's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer to him until there was no gap left, while Sana's arms circled his neck, one hand tangling in his hair. She too wanted him nearer, to feel the reality of him.
They broke apart briefly to catch their breath, their foreheads brushing as they stared at each other with wide, wonder-filled eyes, only to dive back into another kiss moments later.
It was Ji-Hoon who finally stepped back, his breaths uneven, his body betraying him in ways that made him feel both exhilarated and grounded. Sana's stood before him, her chest heaving, her cheeks aflame with a blush so intense it painted her entire face red. But she didn't look away. She let him see her, just as she had promised.
Ji-Hoon, though calmer, felt the heat of his ears betraying his composure. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. Then with a voice that was low and slightly hoarse, he extended a hand toward her. "Come on," he said, his lips quirking into a soft smile, "let's get you home."