Sanctuary

One. (A Thousand Years)

Author's Note: So I've been writing this for a little while. I thought I'd explore the community here and play around with having graphics in the story and different titles to bring it to life. I tend to be a chatty author in general so there will be author's notes often. I hope you enjoy my version of RiRi post-CLOY. Every chapter starts with a snippet of lyrics from a song that fits the mood. Not always cited in order. Just my favorite words. Anyway, let's begin :)

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I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

There's music in the heavy glide of the train against the tracks, a lulling cacophony of rattles, the odd scrape, the whoosh of a dalliance with the early spring breeze. He plays it against his thigh absently, fingers tapping the keys of a phantom piano, and the breathtaking landscape rushes past him, rolling hills and endless green in every shade he can name: forest, sage, emerald, jade, moss, hunter. It's a feast for the senses, and his feel more awake, more sensitive than they have in years.

Last night he stepped off a plane in Zurich and drew the crisp air into his lungs hungrily, almost as if he could taste her breath in it. It's been three long, long years, but he can still feel her presence in his bones, as sharply as that first day in the outskirts of his little village, when she'd turned his world inside out with a cheeky smile and a brave façade. Most days, Ri Jeong-hyeok is logical to a fault, but when it comes to her, truth defies reason. He supposes reasoning with fate is a losing battle anyway, and he smiles a little to himself as he pulls the glossy photo out of his coat pocket, runs the pad of his thumb across her face fondly. Those sad doe eyes will be the death of him.

When she enters the Pyongyang Hotel's café, Seo Dan has her face carefully schooled into an uninviting scowl. She throws withering glances around at society's curious gazes until she spots him sitting by the glass pane. Her demeanor softens as she walks towards him briskly, sliding into the chair across from him before he can come to his feet in polite greeting. It's all quite unceremonious, their third meeting in two years, the first being at his old house in the village when she'd silently confessed what Gu Seung Jun had come to mean to her and that he was gone with a frightening finality. She'd then handed him a camera and brought everything full circle.

"Hello Ri Jeong-hyeok."

"You look well," he says by way of greeting, and he means it. In that very first year after the world spun off its axis, she looked inconsolable, her narrow face sallow and lifeless. They met in the same café last winter, in memory of the ones they lost, each wistful with memories too fresh not to bleed. She'd told him then that Gu Seung-jun had died.

Today, she allows herself a small smile. "I am well," she confirms. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. The orchestra keeps me busy." It does keep him busy. He pours his heart and soul into the piano, creating music that brings her back in little snippets: her humor, her warmth, her bravery. He can write music for an eternity and fall short of capturing the depth of her heart. "How are you? Mother says you've been traveling."

She cocks her head to the side, tucks her chin down and considers him for a moment, an unspoken question hovering between them. "I've been playing the cello in classical music concerts all over Europe." Dan reaches for her purse and rifles through it to produce a white box, the size of his fist. "I found this at Galeries Lafayette in Paris," she says, placing the box on the table between them and sliding it towards him.

Seri's Choice. His heart thumps sickly against his ribcage. He reaches for it like a starving man and picks it up gingerly. "Odnoliub," he reads the unfamiliar word reverently. The package is tasteful and the top comes off smoothly to reveal a candle set against a satiny black cushion.