𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐘 | nct

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒

❸

A FEW DAYS HAD PASSED, and Ryeon could still feel eyes gnawing at her back.

However, she had been far too busy to care.

Dressed head-to-toe in uniform-like attire, the brunette made her way home from a dull and boring day at school, her posture slumped and ungraceful. She carried a slightly battered bag upon her shoulders, the leather beginning to tear at the seams, as well as the actual handles of the bag. That bag contained most of her personal belongings: Her mobile phone, purse and perfumes, not to forget the plentiful amounts of work that were stored as well.

All in all, that bag was extremely important to Ryeon. And that's exactly why she was now chasing after the man who had swiftly grappled it off from her bodice.

"Hey!" She yelled in retaliation, closely following in pursuit of the darkly-clothed thief. A frown tugged at her features, as the girl ran quickly behind the man.

He had certainly messed with the wrong person, that was for sure. As they clambered through the thick crowds of bustling strangers, Ryeon was only gaining on the person whom had stolen her bag. She was attentive, and kept her fatigued gaze on the man, frustration bubbling up inside of her as it seemed that he had gotten out of the crowds before she had, and was now getting away.

"Come on people. Move!" Ryeon muttered angrily, forcing her way through the pack. Her lips pursed, as the brunette finally tugged her way out from the busy group, before she once again ran after the male.

Only now, she had no idea where he'd gone to. It was like she had taken her eyes off of him for one second, and he'd just disappeared into thin air.
"Hold on. What the very fuck??"
The girl questioned, her brows furrowing as she tossed her gaze around frantically. It was impossible to just leave from her sight that quickly. And no matter how often or wildly Ryeon looked around the area, she could not identify the same man, or her bag.

"This just isn't fair." She breathed out, neck craning downwards to observe her own feet as tears threatened to slip out from her eyes. It was just so annoying how he had to have stolen her bag, out of everyone else's on the streets of Seoul. Stress, worry, frustration. So many emotions began to seep through Ryeon's veins, and she almost fell onto the ground with the heaviness of some of them.

She needed to fucking sit down. No. What she needed was her belongings, her bag. She needed to go home. But, the world just seemed to be against her.

Ryeon hesitantly sat down on the kerb at the side of the road, her head trailing itself upwards to observe the overcast skies above. Grey clouds were painted delicately across the semi-blue canvas, hinting to an obvious shower that was soon to appear.

She sat there for a while, contemplating what to do. On one hand, she could go home, act like nothing had happened, and just restart. On the other hand, she could file a report to the police about it, but that just seemed like so much hassle. Plus, she knew little to nothing about the thief. There would basically be no point.

--

AS SHE WAS MID-THOUGHT, Ryeon felt a small tap on her shoulder.

"Yikes. Has it started to rain already?" She thought outwardly, glancing upwards only to notice a confused face staring back at her.

"Jesus Christ!" The girl exclaimed, jumping up from the kerb, whilst awkwardly trying to avoid the person's head at the same time.

The boy was youthful looking, with dewy, tanned skin and caramel locks. He was dressed in a leather jacket, skinny black jeans, an a crimson sweater. The dark aesthetic seemed to be his style.

With a smirk growing upon his face, the boy gave a grunt and trailed his eyes down to the object in his hand.

Is that my bag? Ryeon thought, disbelief latching on to her every being.

"Hey. I saw you chasing some guy, and I could kinda tell what was going on, so I thought I'd help you out."
His voice was calm and soothing, a little nasally but Ryeon believed that it suited his appearance.

"Wow.. Thanks." To say she was speechless would be an understatement, as Jang Ryeon took her disheveled leather bag from within the stranger's grasp.

"No problem, Ryeon." He spoke back, his voice almost a whisper.

The attractive boy began to retract back, his lips curling at the edges, with a sly mask basically latching itself onto his face. It took her a while to notice what he's said, but once she had realised that the boy knew her name, it was too late.

He was gone before she could even spare him another glance, leaving Ryeon in a state of confusion as her mind began to work in overdrive.

WHO WAS HE?
HOW DID HE KNOW HER NAME?