I. A charming stranger

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But no, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
No, take me home
Take me home where I belong

But no, take me homeTake me home where I belongI got no other place to goNo, take me homeTake me home where I belong

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I got no other place to go
No, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I can't take it anymore

Stand by me

I. A charming stranger

He takes a sip of his coffee and continues reading his heavy textbook. It's so huge and he's wanting to get it the hell over with. Sometimes he hates that he has to put up with so much theory with nothing to support it for an exam that won't do any good. Yes, in some century they smashed the Pugs' faces in. He's not going to do it. Why should he learn that?

Isn't it better just to know how to care for them? His breathing difficulties, in his eyes. He ends up suffocating, sticking his face in the book and giving a long, pitiful, silly whimper. He's fed up. He wants to study normal vet stuff. Not how they tortured little animals for aesthetics.

He thought the worst part of the course would be seeing blood or sore animals. No, it's the reading. He lifts his head from taps on his shoulder and straightens up, embarrassed.

"Can I sit here?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry, n-nobody usually comes to this area."

He grabs his things and piles them on the other side of the table, where no one would ask to sit. In and of itself, it's odd that this man would want to. There are a lot of empty tables. He doesn't even recognize this person and considering the insane amount of time he spends in this cafe for the purpose of studying, he should be able to.

How can you not remember someone so incomparably beautiful? It's overwhelming. He pulls a novel out of his bag: Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. He blinks repeatedly Is he a literature student or something? His thoughts end up being too outrageous, causing the opposite to look back at him.

"Have you read it?" he asks curiously.

"No. I'm not really one for reading books."

"Oh."

"Although the phrase is popular. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls..."

"They're tolling for you," he replies with a sly grin. "That is only why I am reading it."

"Prruuuu" He purses her lips and leans back on the table. "It's not enough to read the..." he squints his eyes and moves his right hand. "Five hundred pages? What must that thing have. I'll keep my curiosity."

The opposite laughs tenderly at the answer and it's Weird? He's not used to such sympathy from a stranger. This is still Korea and despite looking Korean, he considers that maybe he is a foreigner. He prefers it, it's more enjoyable, it just makes him over think about it. Especially what happens next:

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