A Way Home

Is You

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He saw her. He'd been in the sixth-floor suite when Namjoo came to the office. He'd been packing for a business trip then watched from balcony as she walked out with shoulders drooping, head hanging low. Imagining the desperation that had driven her back here to look for him.

But he wasn't ready yet.

The exact way he saw the phone calls, but could never pick up. Afraid to send himself into another whirlpool of emotions. He would suffocate them in his world of feelings. Using her to seek a high and relief from his downtrodden world that followed him like mud tracks.

Sehun didn't want to use Namjoo as a route to escape. He wanted to find a solace before he went back to her, and if Namjoo was still waiting for him he'd go to her with open arms and a love without lies, without excuses.

But it looked like the damage had been done to both of them as he watched Namjoo cry in front of him.

The upbeat life in her shriveled down to a thin river that stopped flowing. The sadness surged through him. Sehun wanted to hug her, but feared a single touch would ignite everything reckless he had told himself not to do.

He wanted to be a better person. Without dredging continuously on a hindering past. Live in the here and now and look eagerly into the future, because he had never sought the future. Isn't that why he'd released her from his prison? But looking at Namjoo's sunken form made him regret every decision he had made from the very beginning.

Wanting, needing her.

Noticing the crowd pausing to watch curiously, Sehun shrugged his jacket off. Handing it to Namjoo he said, "Put it on. I'll buy you something to drink."

He waited for Namjoo to calm before turning to head down the sidewalk. Once the light hit red and traffic stopped, they crossed the street toward a golden lit café on the other side. Namjoo was wiping her nose with a tissue she'd found in her purse when they arrived.

The tiny building was no more occupied than the gallery next door. Very few customers milled around thanks to the festival.

"What would you like?" Sehun asked at the counter. A glance behind him and Namjoo shook her head, her nose now a shade of bright red from the crying. Returning to the cashier he ordered two cups of green tea.

The wooden booths were a shade between yellow and brown. The light bounced off the glossy sheen of the tabletop when they settled at the seat nearest the door. Only a man occupied the booth at the far side. Sitting nearest the counter with black rimmed glasses he appeared absorbed in a comic book. He didn't even notice them.

The cashier dropped off their drinks from a brown tray then shuffled lazily to the counter. No one else arrived leaving them in a bubble of privacy. Minus the customer ignoring the assumed couple.

"Drink this," Sehun pushed the deep oval mug toward her. "It'll wear out the buzz."

Her eyes were rimmed with red as she cupped the mug between her small hands. "How'd you know I was drinking?"

"You're not walking straight." Sehun pointed out.

Admitting to it Namjoo silently lifted the ceramic to her lips and took a cautious sip. For a minute she said nothing after setting it back down. A faint steam curled upwards and trickled into nothingness.

Namjoo didn't meet his eyes but brushed a finger against the side of the mug when she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well."

"I'm jealous." She quietly said. "I have to travel a mountain just to discover another, but it seems so easy for you."

"It's not," he said, "easy."