String to my heart ♪ Mark Lee

♪ 79

Runaway, pushin' me, pullin' me
Said you wanted all of me
But what is even all of me?
Suddenly, part of me is hauntin' me
Heard the things they callin' me
What the hell you want from me? (Want from me)

♪

The apartment keys sat in Hannah's palm like they were fake.

Not metaphorically fake, literally fake like if she pressed hard enough, the silver would peel off and reveal plastic underneath.

"This feels illegal." she whispered the same thing for the fifth time since they had their hands over the property.

Mark stood beside her in the underground parking lot with two iced americanos and nodded immediately.
"Exactly what I said in the lawyer's office."
"You signed papers."
"You signed papers too."
"I thought adults would stop us eventually."
"We are adults." He handed her the coffee with a solemn expression.
"Which is deeply concerning."

Hannah stared at the apartment building again, with tall glass windows, white colored exterior, clean balconies, quiet neighborhood and close enough to the company to commute without suffering through Seoul traffic every day but still far enough away to finally breathe.

Their apartment, not rented, not temporary.

Theirs.

Well technically hers, according to the documents.

Mark had insisted on it, she still remembered the argument from three weeks ago.

"You're putting it in both our names."
"No."
"Mark."
"Hannah."
"That's not how adulthood works."

"It literally is, I'm paying more upfront because I have more savings right now but you're contributing too. Which means your name goes first." he had argued while sitting cross legged on the dorm floor with twelve tabs open on his laptop.

"That's unfair."
"It's not."

And somehow, after weeks of spreadsheets, calls, exhausted midnight discussions, property visits disguised as casual outings and secretly consulting Jaemin because apparently Jaemin understood mortgages frighteningly well.

They bought an apartment.

Together.

The elevator ride up to the fourth floor felt surreal.
"You think they'll suddenly revoke ownership?" Hannah asked.

The elevator doors opened.

Mark looked at her.
"Ready?"
"No."
"Same."

Still, he unlocked the door with the passcode while holding her hand with the other hand.

The apartment greeted them with silence and sunlight with huge windows spilled warm afternoon light across the wooden floors.

Half the moving boxes had already arrived earlier through the movers, their couch sat awkwardly crooked in the middle of the living room like it had no idea where it belonged yet.

For a moment neither of them moved, then Hannah slowly walked in.

The soft echo of her footsteps hit something deep inside her chest.

Mark quietly shut the door behind them.

Hannah turned around and suddenly laughed in disbelief, one hand covering her mouth. "We actually did this."

Mark looked equally stunned.
"Yeah."
"You bought an apartment."
"We bought an apartment."
"You're saying that way too calmly."
"Because if I fully process it, I might actually throw up."