A Way Home

Into Whirlwinds

That morning he'd woken up an hour early. Decisively went through his closet for so long he was nearly late picking up the day's flowers.

"Why, I wasn't sure you were coming," the elder lady who ran the florist shop smiled when he walked through the door.

"Just running a little late," Sehun walked up to the counter. Whisking out his wallet he handed his card over.

"Your girlfriend must love the flowers," the shop owner commented.

"She hasn't said she doesn't like them yet." he couldn't help grinning harder.

Handing back his card she said, "Get married soon, young man. If your girlfriend doesn't know she's the luckiest girl alive, let her know I said it."

"I will." He promised. "I'll come back for the other vase."

Somehow, he always managed to carry all three vases into the building. Balancing the tinier vase meant for the window sill between the two bigger ones.

Namjoo's office was always neat and tidy. He had planned to update the beat desk and computer, but the room had so long come equipped with them he had decided it for another day.

Right now, he enabled himself to live in the moment. Dwell in the wonder stretching across Namjoo's expression. It was enough to light his day. Sehun stayed long enough to watch Namjoo join the crowd in the elevator before returning to his office.

He regrettably did not eat lunch with her or ask her to come sit with him at the end of the day. Called away to a meeting he made it back home before the stroke of midnight. Then he was up again and preparing for the event that weekend. Namjoo would have seen the promotional poster posted near the front doors Friday. Date and time were printed in big yellow cursive at the bottom. Sehun could only be certain of it.

He was wearing a formal black today with his hair slicked off his forehead. The event was in procession when he arrived. Shaking hands of numerous directors. Catching up on economic news. Putting on his best smile while discreetly searching the room for Namjoo, eyeing the entrance every so often whenever during a conversation.

When a sponsor took the podium to start the afternoon speech and the waiters constantly walking back and forth finally stopped, Sehun finally saw her. Standing at the back of the room between elderly men. Immediately the sponsor's voice faded. The faces surrounding him blurred until all he saw was Namjoo.

He couldn't help breathing a quiet laugh. The sight of her flooded joy through him. He knew she would have taken his word. He knew she would come. Ignoring the curious stare of the man sitting beside him, he glanced down at the table then back to her. For assurance that he hadn't imagined an illusion. Blindly copying others clapping when the speech ended and someone else stepped up.

Look at me he wanted to say, I'm sitting over here. He didn't, so all he did was watch her longingly from where he sat.

⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕

Namjoo wasn't new to functions. She had a basic idea of how they ran. The only thing was that these people were so professional with years of experience on their tails it was intimidating. Among the salt and pepper, artificially colored hairs Namjoo could feel the instant generation gap.

She shouldn't have come was the first thing on her mind when she walked into the show room. An orange carpeted room decked with round tables. There wasn't a refreshment table. Sadly leaving Namjoo standing lost, like she was some loser.

Finding Sehun was like looking for a needle in a haystack. There were just too many men around her. Very few women and those few didn't even look at her. At least, she thought, she had dressed properly. Plain navy dress. Black heels. Her feet already hurt the longer the hour.