that's my girl || yeonji

ch.3

<<<

for yeji, the same cycle repeated: sleep, eat, and study. sometimes engage in friendly conversation with people her parents deemed important.

hwang hospital was one of the biggest in korea, and she was going to become the director of it someday. but first, she was going to become a neurosurgeon.

learning about the brain wasn't so bad—as far as words and colored diagrams go. not wrinkled soft flesh and skulls. people's bones shouldn't be seen, she believed—all white and almost ceramic like. the skull reminded her of the bowl she had her soup in that night, just upside down. her stomach churned a bit. she went pale.

but she sat there, a late night at the public library that never closed besides sunday, forcing herself to watch the brain surgery in front of her. the scalp slid easily from the skull.

she decided to turn it off when she felt the food she had eaten almost come out of her mouth. with a shudder, she went back to the books.

as much as she tried, she couldn't focus. that was the first time she had tried to watch a surgery in a while—the last time, she couldn't even get herself to look at the way they were cutting with the scalpel. once again, she was reminded of what she was not capable of doing.

she sat there in silence, alone at her table—at the whole side of the library, in fact, staring at nothing.

everything she seemed to do 'needs improvement.' even when she so happens to do a good job.

mentally, she checked that box.

wrapping her coat around herself tighter, she walked out of the library with no destination in mind. she didn't want to go home.

but she didn't know where to go either, so she sat down on a corner of the large stone staircase that led to the entrance of the library.

it was midnight, and the sky was clear—though the moon and stars seemed so distant that they looked like dying candles. the only real light came from the street lamps. and everything seemed very still—only a few people were walking around, and there wasn't even so much as a breeze.

for a moment, she looked up, eyes turned towards the sky imploringly. and she wished. she wished with everything she had for someone to... she didn't know. just anyone.

whatever fate or destiny that directed the course of our lives. she hoped it would bend for her.

the stars in the sky are so minuscule she can barely see them. she squinted, but everything began to blur.

so she sat on a corner of the staircase damp from yesterday's rain, but it didn't matter. she began crying before it could. what else can she do?

whoever walked past minded their own business. she liked it that way, she thought before she realized she was contradicting herself—oddly enough. but oh well. she let out a tired sigh.

he didn't like studying, therefore, he did not study. but he liked cars. that was the only reason why he was here—to grab a book on mechanics.

usually, he was good at minding his own business. in fact, if he didn't recognize her as his seat mate and maybe robot that probably hated him for some unknown reason, he would've kept on his way.

then he thought of what taehyun said.

he sat down next to her. feeling his presence, she lifted her head from her arms, her eyes smudged and red. the coat sleeves of her tan overcoat were soaked through with snot and tears.

"not you," she groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes.

"huh?" he leaned back to get a better look at her, slightly offended.

"what do you want?" she asked disdainfully, ignoring his question and shooting him a glare.

"to know what's wrong," he replied, nonchalant and leaning against his hand.

and there it was. the spark of something bright in his eyes—something she was unfamiliar with. she wished for a lot of things, she realized.

"that's none of your business."

it came out of her mouth like a default. an instinct, somewhat. like she was prepared to say it to whoever was going to ask.

yeonjun, especially, wouldn't understand a thing—he would brush her troubles aside like a crumb on the table. but maybe that won't matter.

it might not matter whether he understands or not if she could just put things into real words for once.

well, okay. worlds as different as theirs shouldn't cross anyways. that was what he thought, about to get up before stopping himself. should he go through the trouble of pestering her? and did he even care to?

for a moment, he imagined leaving, and imagined the feeling that would've loomed over him if he did. he decided he didn't like it.

"it's no one's business," he said, "but it can be mine, if you want."