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I just knew it was you, even though it was only your back,
—it was y o u.
Having his feeling involved was never his style – Jumin Han was fully aware of that fact.
Productivity, output, result; he lived in a world of money and wealth, a universe where the strongest won the match, there wasn’t such a place for softness and gentleness. He could adapt to that harshness, those hardships, he was getting used to facing problems with power and authority. Had he died once when he saw that woman entering his father’s life. Then came another. Others. Woman after woman, and suddenly he thought that all women were the same. They used their charm and beauty, those captivating voice and intoxicating curves, seduction and allure – all to take his father away from him. To conquer their property.
So, he closed the way to his life, locked it, and threw away the key. Jumin lived his lifeless life in solitude, drowning himself in the ocean of work, meetings and business plans. If there was one beauty that could enter his heart, it was the almighty Elizabeth the 3rd – and Jumin thought he was full, he was complete.
Until the girl appeared in the chatroom,
“Well, perhaps my subconscious wants to see you.”
Jumin comprehended that it was… highly unlikely, to have her deep in his slumber. He always experienced dreamless sleep for years. They said that those were the best quality of a rest, where only darkness embraced him, and suddenly the morning knocked on his door. He had nightmares once in a while – well, who didn’t? Thus, the objective, sensible part of him rationalized it as a product of another hectic day; he swallowed some pills and ordered his chef to cook him nutritious food; voila, his sleep cycle would back to normal. But – how could he put this together, this lady – he only knew her from her voice, not her face, posture—
Is her hair long, straight and brown? Does she have a slim figure, with a narrow waist, proportional shoulder?
Are you, you?
He gripped his cellphone as if he wanted to crush the device,
Jumin was – defeated. He should never, ever, talk about his personal matters to outsiders, showing off his vulnerable side to a stranger meant weakness. Even though it wasn’t already a secret, how his father dealt with those women; but was it wrong if he felt betrayed? After all, he had done for the company, his silence towards his nasty lifestyle, and this was how the chairman paid him? By arranging a loveless marriage and asking him to follow his senseless path? Jumin didn’t see anything beneficial from having a woman by his side – he needn’t them as an accessory, pretty on the outside but crudely evil, rotten from their cores.
You are different.
Jumin bit his bottom lips. He restrained himself from blurting out words he might regret. That no woman, no one ever made him feel like she did. His brain tried to justify the scorching sensation inside his chest.
Perhaps it was because he neglected his scheduled dinner, that he suffered from heartburn. He learned that gastric acid could do horrible things to his stomach, and worse, damaged his lungs and made him hard to normally breathe. Yes, that’s must be it, he whispered to himself – it had nothing to do with her. She was – she wasn’t supposed to be getting involved with him and his hellish life. She was kind. She was warm. She understood his complicated way of thinking. She was capable to manage such a grand party alone; ah, Jumin wished he was there. Or she was here. He wanted to grasp her hand, traced her skin, tangled their fingers in a tight, intertwined embrace. Jumin exhaled. Agonizingly. He should never start.
He should never bring her into his empty, meaningless life.
Jumin felt – lost; as if he was walking on the narrow street without any visible end.
(—but as long as she was there, he would be fine.)