It All Started With A Creepy Mail ⚊ Yang Jungwon [#4]

✗ eight ✗

⚊ chapter eight

It's past eleven thirty and my parents have a strict ten o'clock curfew for me, but with them not being home, they can't prevent me from bending the rules.

Sometimes when loneliness hits too hard, I love to walk outside during the night. There are fewer people to see, and they say that Seoul is mostly safe even this late.

"Is there a reason why you're out of your house, Lian?" Jungwon asks, his voice breaking the silence.

I don't answer him immediately. He watches me closely as I look around anxiously. I know he understands my point of view as an introvert, but I feel like I'm being rude for not giving him any interesting answers to his questions about me.

All of it having to do with myself, too.

"Am I starting to annoy you?" Jungwon asks uncertainly, his eyes searching mine for a sign.

I sigh, feeling a bit guilty. "No, it's okay. It's just... I'm not used to it."

"That's alright," Jungwon reminds me gently. "But please tell me if I'm bothering you too much."

"No, you're not bothering me," I admit, trying to sound reassuring.

My mind considers what I just said before realizing how it might sound like an invitation for him to be as friendly with me as he likes. I'd rather get shot than have him imagining it means something else.

Kagaga mo talaga, Jillian. Ano-ano mga pumapasok sa isip mo!

[ You're so silly, Jillian. What kind of nonsense were entering your mind!]

"So is it fine with you if I talk your head off until later?" he suggests, his tone light and teasing.

"Oo naman..." I reply easily, then quickly correct myself, "I mean, of course."

"What does it mean?" Jungwon asks, hurrying after me as my feet quicken, the way they always do when my shyness kicks in. "Is it Tagalog?"

"Do I sound like another Asian?" I joke, noting the accent in the way he pronounces my language.

"Sound like a Filipina to me," he tells me, and my eyes widen in disbelief as I hear the beginning of it.

From above, the rain began its gentle descent, gradually growing into a steady downpour. Each drop contributed to the symphony of water against the pavement, creating a soothing yet urgent rhythm.

"Hope you're not scared of a little raindrops," Jungwon turns to me with a nervous expression. "Let's find some cover."

With a fleeting glance at me, he makes me follow him through the dark and chilly night. It's unlucky for both of us not to have an umbrella to protect us from the rain.

As I hurry after him, I stiffen my shoulders against the downpour soaking my shirt, my hand instinctively closing around the phone in my pocket. My eyes dart around the empty surroundings as I walk at a brisk pace through the sheets of rain, while also acknowledging my company taking a shortcut back to our way home.

The street is fully lighted but deserted, and even the stray dogs and cats seem to have gone off in search of dry spots.

I keep my eyes on the sidewalk, trying to avoid the open gutters, and look up only when I feel that my company would take a twist and turn for me to follow. My gaze passes over the buildings and houses, a few windows lit but most of them dark already, probably asleep for the night.

The familiar sign for my block comes into view, and I naturally look up towards the first landing of my family's house. I see a pajama-clad figure standing there, hands gripping the railings, looking around for someone.