The Perfect Life

Square One

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She watched Sehun walk the rest of the way down slowly disappearing down the sidewalk and around the corner. Aching, unable to give chase. Drowning in the hollowness she'd been experiencing.

Closing the door behind her Namjoo stared at the floor unable to cry.

A part of her had known. The other hadn't expected it. She thought of the day Sehun appeared for the first time on the street calling her name. Coincidence she tried to believe. But all the way in Daegu? Really?

The bruise on the side of her head pounded. Felt as if someone was pounding a hammer right into her skull. Clutching her head between her hands she waited out the pain. It didn't go away. Limping down the hall she clambered onto her knees and dug through her closet impulsively discovering a plain brown storage box. Tossing the lid aside she pulled out the soft laden black cardigan she kept hidden so that not a grain of dust could touch it. Slipping her arms through the sleeves she hugged herself suddenly aching all over.

†††††

Tilting his head back, eyes closed, Sehun breathed in some air. He walked a long time traveling the dark streets bumping into night walkers. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Namjoo had looked at him. Wonder in her eyes. The surprise as if she hadn't guessed it all along.

Did she love him or not?

Please, please, he pleaded, say yes.

"You're extremely late," Eunhui spoke when he walked in through the door. Propped so comfortably on his couch, her ankles crossed above the arm rest. A blue blanket she'd pulled from somewhere covered her. Some trendy magazine sat on her lap. Arm angled against the couch, head leaning into her fist. She looked just at home. It looked as if he'd walked into her place.

Sehun dropped his hands from the undone button on his shirt and stared at her aggravated.

"Go home tomorrow," Sehun demanded.

"My vacation's not up yet."

"Vacation at your house," he snapped.

Ceasing attention on her magazine she glanced at him, "Why are you angry? Date not go well? Oh, it's Namjoo, right? You two argue?"

"Shut up," he snapped.

Holding her chin up mightily she pressed, "When are you going to get over her? I bet she's moved on, there's another man that's why you're..."

His expression turned cold, eyes heated up. "I shouldn't have come back." Swerving he disappeared out the door, slamming it behind him.

Bellowing a groan, Sehun slammed the door to his car. Gunning the engine, he drove off with the window fully open allowing the wind to blast his face full force. He just wanted one thing, Namjoo. It needn't be this difficult.

It shouldn't be difficult!

Sehun drove around eventually driving back to Namjoo's place. Maybe he'd just sit in the parking lot, stare at her window, and pretend he was watching her sleep. Instead, he spotted a small silhouette sitting on a bench underneath a drooping Oak. Pulling into an open spot he turned the engine off and watched the figure some more. It looked like Namjoo. It didn't look like her. The sweater hung too loosely on the body. The street light a foot away unable to help clear his opinion.

Deciding he'd figure out he left the car and slowly walked up the sidewalk. Amidst the dimness he recognized the hair curled around her shoulders. That bandage on her forehead from her recent fall. His eyes landed on the dark black cardigan she was wearing and eyed it.