one in our FOREVERMORE

Chapter Four Torren

"Have you found her?" Jae-suk questions, his words muffled by a mouthful of cheese balls as he reclines on the couch of my bedroom.

"What? Who?" I raise my eyes from the laptop, realizing I had been lost in thoughts.

Confusion momentarily clouds Jae-suk's expression as he looks back at me. "Well, I don't know. Maybe Rossi?" He asks sarcastically.

"Ah. No. But you know you have your own room, right?" I quip, arching an eyebrow.

"It's too boring there," he sighs before his expression suddenly shifts, fixing me with an intense gaze. "Hold on. If she wasn't there, why did you go back to the museum a second time?"

He's only aware of two visits even though I've been there every day over the past few weeks.

I come up with a plausible explanation. "The first time, they informed me that the woman I searched for wasn't present. So, I decided to go back again." I'm a good liar, he can never tell the difference.

"And?" His eyebrows shoot up in anticipation.

"It's not her. She got nothing to do with it. We'll have to keep looking." I return my focus to the laptop, realizing I haven't done anything on it in the past hour.

"I don't get it, Hyung. Your tech guy is usually really good. How could he have gotten it so wrong about where she lives?" He keeps munching his cheese balls.

"I don't know. He said he expects some updates today, so I'll hear from him later," I reply, shooting him a glare.

His brows knit together, and he stares at me intently. What's wrong with this boy?

"Why are you not upset about this? You don't look like, like it bothers you at all," he questions, clearly perplexed.

"It does bother me. Stop asking such stupid questions. I have to work."

"Fine. I'll go for a walk," he says, closing the door behind him.

I push my laptop aside, feeling a surge of overwhelm. "Fuck!" I say loudly, running my hands across my face.

Initially, I had merely gone to the museum in search of the director named Leya Vera, to look if she might know a Roma Rossi. But the second I laid my eyes on her, everything else faded away. She just stood there, staring at that painting depicting waves and a boat, and I've lost track of time.

I couldn't decipher why I didn't approach her immediately the first time I saw her. I can't explain it, but the first time felt like I wasn't even seeing here, almost as if she wasn't real. Since then, I've been there every day, drawn to catch another glimpse of her. And maybe I found myself occasionally trailing her when she went for a walk with her dog or headed home after work... every night. Then I thought I should make an appointment to meet her officially but after she declined, I couldn't bare it any longer and drove back to the museum. I couldn't find her though, so I talked with her assistant. And then... there she was, standing before that same painting... her long, sleek black hair pulled back into a high ponytail, dressed in a chic black turtleneck, black wide-leg pants, and slender black stilettos. A small tattoo peeked out from behind her ear. I couldn't see it clearly, but I bet it's not the only one she has.

For some inexplicable reason, my eyes were fixated on her, utterly captivated. I couldn't understand why, but I didn't care. I longed to be as close to her as possible, but as we talked, she unexpectedly bridged the space between us to mere inches. No woman had ever done that. She didn't act like she's afraid of me at all. Even after I said I've killed, she displayed an unwavering strength, far from intimidation. But at the end, she remains clueless of who I really am.