Substitute Soulmate

The Other You

Sehun stared at the distressed person in front of him. The words in his mouth danced but he didn't say anything. Lately he had looked for her, too, but it wasn't with that kind of romantic need. Did Namjoo mean the same?

Lowering her head, she covered her face with a hand. He heard her mutter to herself, "You're not him."

Sehun reached over to touch her shoulder but Namjoo lifted her head forcing him to withdraw his arm. Taking her cup, she tilted her head back and gulped the burning liquid. Taking a 360 spin, Namjoo laughed as the shine in her eyes disappeared. Pouring herself another glass she clinked it against his, "You're not just going to sit there, are you?"

The rest of the time Namjoo laughed with him, telling him how she'd had difficulty potty training her dog. Even telling him about how Olly pooped all over her house, smearing the brown all over her floor. The cleanup had been disastrous as Olly fought with her to eat his own poop. That was as far as they got before Namjoo pulled out her phone to check for the time even when she had a watch on. When she dropped her phone he finally called it a night.

"I can drive," Namjoo insisted when they walked out of the tent. As soon as she pulled her keys out of her bag she dropped them. "Geez, so annoying," she mumbled and bent down to pick her keys up. Before she might end up picking herself up, Sehun grabbed the keys for her.

"Where's your car?" he asked.

"Oh, I can drive," she continued to insist, but Sehun pressed the car key remote and watched the tail lights of her vehicle blare an orange light.

"Come on," he grabbed her arm to pull her along.

"I told you about my dog?" Namjoo asked letting him pull her. "So, this one time when I came home..."

He let her go on without stopping her. Pulling the passenger's door open he helped her inside. Namjoo was still telling her infamous dog story when he closed the door and walked around the car to the driver's side. Her voice picked up when he got behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he turned to see that she hadn't bothered putting her seatbelt on.

"Ok, where's your house?" he asked then muttered to himself, "I can finally drop you off this time."

"Four-o-two," Namjoo replied then held out the count of her fingers as she said the numbers, "four-o-two."

"Four-o-two, right," Sehun nodded as he drove off. Namjoo continued rattling off dog stories along the drive and he wondered if she had nothing else to talk about. Recognizing the familiar building he pulled up and into the underground parking lot. Spotting an empty spot, he swiftly turned the cark and parked.

The second he released his seatbelt Namjoo was out her door, but on all fours. He stared, frowning at the absurdity. The farthest Namjoo had gone with her drunken behavior was kissing him. He hadn't imagined she could get any worse.

Hurrying toward her he pulled her up. Namjoo's arms swung like a ticking clock and she laughed before doing it again.

"Ok, that's fun but you don't want to get hurt," he said helping her through the sliding doors and lowered her arms. "What floor again?" he asked staring at the elevator.

"Four-o-two," she repeated enunciating each number like a grade schooler.

"Four-o-two, four-o-two," he repeated to himself in a hushed whisper. When the elevator doors opened, he pressed for the fourth floor after letting her go.

That was his mistake. Namjoo immediately slumped toward the floor, pressing her cheek against the cool silver wall. She mumbled, whimpered kind of and then sniffed as if she'd been sobbing. "Yeol," he heard her call and press her palm against the barrier as if to hug someone or something.