Free Soul | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 32: scent of home and sense of goal

"I'm old and my bones are rusty."

The light amused chuckles from Hyunjae were all Natasha had wanted to produce. Throughout the whole day, she had done nothing but complain about the itchy material of the hanbok, the ridiculousness of such an attire mismatching her entire fashion theme, and the overflowing excitement of the Korean. Not that these were bothering her, oh quite very far from it.

No, no, she just enjoyed the teasing as a payback for all of those bad jokes, and the exasperation Hyunjae caused.

"You're not old enough to miss the fireworks at least, right?"

It was too late in any case. The two had already gone into the bustling streets of Seoul, in Korea's traditional clothes solely worn on estival occasions. Natasha wasn't sure if she should curse her for pulling the pleading eyes and, hence, bringing her here, or love her harder for this very reason. Because she seemed extremely adorable under the lights of her culture.

Unlike her, Hyunjae still held this childish admiration. There was no shame in wanting to celebrate the mid-autumn fest, nor wishing to pass the Lunar New Year with the team who knew nothing of the fantasy-like atmosphere brought during East Asian holidays. It was a time when the bliss and the delight were able to reach even the most hardened of hearts.

So there she went, leading Natasha through the heavy crowd of mid-autumn.

She let Hyunjae lead her through every turn of the road, a gentle smile printed on her features for as long as the evening lights would remain— the artificial ones beginning to glimmer over the pavement of the people' souls, and the sun setting to let the stars rain on them through the nimbostratus' water. A Light Art Museum in the grand open space of the city was it.

"I don't even see the correlation between watching the fireworks and someone's age." Natasha pointed out with a raised eyebrow, her eyes narrowing on the shaking shoulders of Hyunjae.

"Oops?"

Did Natasha really need to watch some trivial mixture of chemical powder explode in the empty night? when she was certain that her own chest bursted into blooming flowers of adoration. A bouquet of red roses had been planted in her heart the second Hyunjae came to be, she was sure. There was no other possibility. The petals only showed once her glee became all day.

The past months had gone with a Hyunjae more open to nice feelings and less self-loathing, like she was healing. She was healing. She paid attention to what she wore, felt a little content to find clothes she liked; she would ask Natasha about this and that band, show a petite grin of excitement if she agreed on enjoying their songs.

It felt as if a rebirthing wind brought the very personality she was meant to have. Stoic on the rims and thoughtful in the branches, childish through the azure petals, soulful if the world dug deep enough to find the roots.

"I can't with you." So Natasha shook her head while she breathed out those words with a string of love, watching the childishness without even having to meet the azure petals. Hyunjae threw a glance back at her though, an endearing and overjoyed gleam in her bright dark orbs showing the hues of glee her chest was painted in.

The hues splattered their reality once they set foot in the night market, here and there, running people settling the last details of the hectic evening. The ambient air took them into its current as of a giant wave coasting on the beach, slowly pulling their bodies in its gentle retirement. It seized their hearts and made them beat in utter ecstasy. So Hyunjae smiled brighter and wider.

And she saw the very emotion that made her soul flutter in utter pride and bliss; a pair of viridescent eyes widening at the scenery where wonders grew per billions. She gazed with care at the portrait of pure fantasy enlightened by a veil of enchantments. These reached out to color her eyes in the cerulean of pure and simple worship, though nothing of any religion.