Traces and Storms

xix

   Woobin looked at me. The café's amber lights made his sharp, brown eyes appear more luminous. He exhaled a mouthful of air, and returned my question with another question: "What made you ask that?"

I shrugged. "Someone told me that was how it was for them. I'm curious, if that applies to you, too."

"Well, does that apply to you?"

I shifted my gaze to the wall behind him, and I caught his smile from the corner of my eye. As if he read my mind, he carried on with, "I'll answer you, don't worry."

A slight pause. "It does."

Woobin nodded—a gesture of acceptance. "It's funny, in a way, considering I never thought about this before."

I kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"I used to make a mental note, regarding what I want my special someone to have—generic things, really. But someone inevitably came along, and she sent those traits I thought I wanted flying out the window."

"Like a storm?" I suggested, slightly shocked at what I blurted out.

Woobin seemed to be taken aback at my remark, only to brush it away with a burst of short laughter. "Not really. Then again, a part of me thought, 'Ah, if it's a different person, then I wouldn't go this far.'"

"So to say," I calculated my words in my mind first, carefully weighing everything down, in order to have it in context. "That if it isn't her, then you would rather not at all?"

"That's the gist of it. I met that person at her best, and when I saw her at her worst, I had the choice to either call it quits or stay. Strangely enough, I chose the latter."

"Why?"

"Because I knew she could do better than that," Woobin answered. "And I wanted to be a part of that process, no matter how messy it could be. I was aware of the repercussions it could have on me, but I didn't mind. I didn't mind because it was her. Because I chose to love her."

"Then," I cocked my head. "If she isn't a storm, then what is she?"

"A key."

"A key?"

Woobin nodded. "A key to this door I've kept shut for so long. The person I'm talking about reminded me that I am capable of loving deeply."

I fell silent. "Were you scared?"

"I was at first."

"What made you overcome that fear?"

"The possibility of her knowing she is loved."

"And did it happen?"

"She refused to acknowledge it."

It felt like I was being too invasive, and so I stopped asking, and he stopped talking.

-::-

By the time I arrived home, Myungsoo was waiting in our porch. With his unkempt hair and wrinkled pants, it was obvious he didn't go out.

"Am I still blocked?" he began.

"You're still blocked."

"You're not visiting Echo nowadays."

"I'm avoiding you."

"Hey, Bae Suji, aren't you being too honest today?"

"At least that makes one of us." I shook my head, and walked past him. He stood up in an instant and grabbed my wrist.