In Only Seven Days (janiel)

Wednesday

Wednesday I didn't see him,
I hoped that he'd be back tomorrow...

Jaeyeol had thought that yesterday would be the last of it—he had been entranced, sure, but that man on the beach was no more than an apparition. Who knows if this connection he felt meant anything at all? It's more than likely a result of his uninterrupted isolation prior to coming to Busan. Humans are social animals—it's no miracle that he's all caught up on a handsome man he's not even talked to before.

Nonetheless, the next day, a sunny Wednesday, Jaeyeol journeys back down to Haeundae beach. Maybe he was just addicted to the atmosphere—that had to be it, right? It's not like he was counting on encountering the stranger out on the sand again, no.

'But...still,' He sighs, scuffing up clumps of moistened land with curled toes, 'I wish I could see him again.'

Haeundae beach is barren again today. This time, the stranger is nowhere in sight. Jaeyeol sighs and treads back across the expanses of sand, back to his car. No point in sticking around. There are other things to do in Busan, right? Yeah.

Before Jaeyeol knows it, he's strolling down a sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets as he scans the windows and outdoor displays of every shop he passes.

He had expected to do something —whatever that something would be, he had no idea—but somehow instead ended up particularly infatuated with someone he's never formally met.

Jaeyeol sighs. "Infatuated" is such a dangerous word. It's less "infatuated" and more "entranced". Hell, he doesn't even know the guy's name, why is he so obsessed with seeing him again?

Before he can completely lose himself in his thoughts, a body crashes into him, its back colliding with his chest.

"Hey! He stole my—"

Another figure, Jaeyeol notes, backs up into the wall, seemingly startled by the victim's exclamation. It's a child, holding said victim's wallet.

Sighing, Jaeyeol props up the man that had fallen against him on his own two feet before, almost on reflex, tailing the child (who had started off running, wallet clenched tightly in his hand).

He hasn't helped a stranger like this since the time he chased an accused kidnapper (who was really just stuck in an endless revolving door of misunderstandings). This is his vacation, why the hell is he stepping in? He has no business being a do-gooder now.

Maybe it's just his inner, past "self", rearing its head at the sound of trouble. You wouldn't know it by just looking at him, but Jaeyeol had once been a very righteous person. That is, before he was trained and forced to become the man he is now...

But, if there's one thing he knows, it's that his father—Sophia, and all those that had tried to before—can never completely break him. Try as they might, he's still that same shy, headstrong little kid deep inside.

It's lucky that the thief isn't that fast. Jaeyeol's wearing his favorite shoes today—it would be a shame to get them too dirty. He secures a grip on the child's hoodie and comes to a stop, a stern frown unconsciously sliding onto his lips.

"Wha—! Dammit! Fine, here!" The kid growls, throwing the wallet in his face before speeding off as Jaeyeol let go of his hood to catch it. The owner of the stolen good (who Jaeyeol now gets a closer look at, and notices that it's a middle-aged man, dressed in rags with a large patch of black that covers his nose) comes stumbling down the street just behind him, wheezing to catch his breath. Jaeyeol hands the wallet back to him, bowing quietly.

"Oh—Oh damn...Thank you, sir...Thank you..."

He shuffles away, and out of sight. Jaeyeol sighs again. He really hadn't planned to rescue people's belongings on his vacation.

Whatever.

Returning to scanning the buildings on the side of the road, he notices a certain one stand out from the array.

It's Coffee Temple—or Coffee Days now, actually, they must have changed their name. This is the place he had been searching for, one that he frequented during his last vacation to Busan! What a miracle that he's found it this way, after chasing a kid down the street.

Coffee Temple—now Coffee Days, was the home of his favorite hot chocolate. They serve it all year! If you ever thought you had good hot chocolate, you'd be wrong. Coffee Days tops all other cafes he's been to, hands down.

Jaeyeol steps inside, hackles raised as the chime of the doorbell rings out.

"Welcome!" A blonde, wearing a nametag with "NARI" printed on the front, hustles to meet him at the counter, "What would you like to order?"

"...Hot chocolate."

"One hot chocolate!" She cheers, elbowing the taller, black-haired worker behind her as he glares at the back of her head, "Move, Jun. Anything else, sir?"

Shaking his head, Jaeyeol pulls the jacket draped over his shoulders closed. Somehow—it's as if he's trapped in his mind—the stranger from the beach comes back to haunt him. As Jaeyeol sits himself, he imagines what the man could be doing then. Maybe he's in one of the shops around town...or maybe he's at work, as an artist, or a grocery store clerk, or even as an idol. He wouldn't doubt it, recalling the limberness with which the male walked.

But of course, this was simple fantasy. Jaeyeol blushes, admitting his foolishness.

Would he ever be able to find him again? Is he even still in Busan? There's no telling whether that man was just another vacationer or not—there's always that possibility.

Jaeyeol scoffs at his train of thought. He's getting too caught up in this, chasing a dream. The chances of them meeting is too low to even consider, there's no way—

"Here's your hot chocolate," A new tall, slender figure with an undercut appears, handing him his drink, "Hey, something wrong? You got someone on your mind? I know that look."

Despite knowing that this man—Bumjae, he discovered, glancing at his name tag—couldn't see his eyes, Jaeyeol raises an eyebrow and his sudden inquiry. Who the heck is this guy?

"You know, if it's someone on your mind, you should just go outright and do what you need to do. I always see lovesick puppies wandering around without direction because they're too scared to make their moves," Bumjae, crosses his arms, flipping back a lock of hair before realizing how much he's talked already. "Ah, sorry, I—I have a habit of just talking to talk, I don't even know what you're dealing with. My bad."

With that, he walks away, flinging a towel over his shoulder.

Huh.

'That was weird...but he's right. It wouldn't hurt to talk, if...if I ever see that man from the beach again.'

There's nothing stopping him, in all honesty. It's not likely that they'd meet again...But for sure, if they ever do, he'll introduce himself. Without a doubt, he has to do it. Jaeyeol takes a sip of his chocolate and loses his mind in its fantasy. It might all be just that—a fantasy—but there's no hurt in hoping, is there?