"OPEN IT."
"They're sneakers. But why?"
"I saw your sneakers—the tattered one you always wear—and I thought, hey, this would be a great birthday gift."
"You didn't have to. It must be expensive."
"It doesn't matter. Do you like it?"
"Yes, I like it very much."
"Then give me a smile. I want to see your dimples."
"Stop it. You're making me blush."
"You're cuter when you're blushing."
"Stop teasing me!"
"Okay, okay. I'll stop."
"Danny…"
"Hm?"
"…Thank you."
AHN KYUNGHEE LOVED TO run.
She didn't know what it was about running she loved so much, but she just did.
She loved it more than she liked dancing. When she ran, the air whipping through her hair made it feel as if she was flying. In a way, it was as if freedom could be touched, if only for during that mile. When she ran, her mind was freed from the chains of reality. She didn't have to think about anything, didn't have to feel anything, and the world ceased to exist.
This love for running of hers started when she was fourteen. Back then, she would pick up her sneakers—no matter how worn-out they were—slip it on and run for miles nonstop, through every backstreet and front street of the neighbourhood.
Kyunghee especially loved to run in the rain. It wasn't the best thing to do; in fact, really foolish if it was any other normal human-being in their right mind. However, she was awfully stubborn and logic usually took the backseat when emotions did the talking. On several occasions, she was bedridden with a terrible fever that incapacitated her from showing up to work as a result.
Again, not the healthiest hobby but a hobby that kept her happy nonetheless.
Some people drink to cope with stress, some people read or write. Kyunghee ran.
Running released pent-up tensions. Running calmed her down. Whenever she finished a marathon, sweat trickling down the sides of her face, it gave her joy—a personal accomplishment that nobody could ever take away from her. Running kept her grounded through all the shit in life. When she ran, nothing else mattered except for the wind and adrenaline that numbed her pain.
Simply put, she ran to forget. She ran to numb herself whole.
Oh, how she wished she could be on a jog through the park right now. Instead she was stuck in a cab on the way to work—the mundane things of life.
Kyunghee eased into the back seat of the car and leaned her forehead against the window as Seoul's night scenery passed by in a blur of colourful street lights—a boring and repetitive sight she had grown accustomed to all these years of living in the big city.
Her eyes darted upward. Dark, ominous clouds rolled by with a faint hint of a drizzle. Everything looked so grey and gloomy. Earlier it had been pelting cats and dogs, but the rain had died down by 4 PM. Snow still covered the ground but it had slowly turned into a pile of brown, wet slush from the traffic.
Inside the cab, the heat was blasted on high to combat the wintry weather, except that it started to become a little to claustrophobic.
Kyunghee powered down the window and lifted her head, closing her eyes to enjoy the fresh air grazing her warm skin. She imagined a nice spring day with flowers blooming, sun shining and puffy blue clouds overhead. Winter was definitely her least favourite season.
Unknowingly, the corners of her lips curled into a smile.
SCREEEEEECH
Suddenly, her whole body thrusted forward before it was snatched back in place by the seatbelt. Her lips were parted, alarmed, but she was speechless from the shock. Her heart nearly fell out of place from the sudden sharp brake by the cab driver.
"What the hell is he doing?!" The cab driver growled frustratingly, followed by a series of angry honking. The cab driver craned his neck toward Kyunghee with an apologetic look. "Are you okay, Miss? I'm so sorry about the sudden brake, but that man jumped out of nowhere and I had to stop before I hit him."
"Yes, I'm alright," she answered. Thank goodness the seatbelt was on. That scared the shit out of her.
The cab driver rekindled his heated cussing of the brazen idiot who had blindly walked onto the streets, without a sense of self-preservation.
"Lord above me, is he crazy? Only crazy people would jump out in the middle of moving traffic. Where is his brain and common sense? What is wrong with people these days?"
Kyunghee leaned forward in the seat, straining to see what was happening outside.
There were a whole bunch of cars honking in every direction. She quickly realized they were in the middle of an intersection. The cars on the opposite road had stopped driving as well. A car next to theirs had stopped, too, and its driver was also honking in aggression. Not a single car moved, creating a traffic congestion right in the middle of the Seoul intersection.
Her gaze landed on the point of interest.
Standing two meters directly in front of her cab, in the centre of the intersection causing all of this commotion, was a tall, muscular man dressed in plain dark clothes. His back was turned toward her, but it looked like he was breathing heavily from the way his shoulders bobbed up and down. His fists were clenched by his sides. He looked tense. He was staring at something in front of him—another car that was swiftly getting away.
Her cab driver powered down his window and hurled curses, "Hey, you motherfucker, if you want to die then go somewhere else! Don't throw yourself out in the middle of a busy street! Don't bring other people down with you!"
That caught the mysterious man's attention and he whirled around on his brown, leather combat boots. He did not look happy. In fact, he was scowling in anger and there was a deep, don't-fuck-with-me-I'm-already-pissed-off frown on his face. His jaw was set firmly and his eyes were ablaze, giving off an intimidating aura even from the distance.
"Get out of the way, do you hear me? You're blocking everyone!" The cab driver was relentless in his verbal assault.
Kyunghee wasn't sure it was a good idea since the wild man already looked so murderous at the moment.
"Don't you have eyes to see where you're walking?"
Something flashed across the man's dark features. He stormed over to the cab driver's door and lowered his head to the window. Instinctively Kyunghee moved back into her seat, as if that would help create a safe distance from this wild man and his unyielding gaze.
"Get out," the man demanded without wasting breaths. His sharp, intense eyes bore into the depths of the cab driver's soul. His voice was deep, gruff and authoritative, meaning all business and no play.
"E—Excuse me?" The cab driver jolted, shocked.
So did Kyunghee.