From Seoul With Love✅

30; Soulful connections in Seoul.

Pulling it open, she came to a sight of an unfamiliar man standing there, with a paper bag in his hand. The top he had on signified he was from an eatery. Upon meeting her gaze, his voice came immediately. "Delivery for Miss Ibrahim." He offered her a small smile.

If possible, her frown deepened. "I didn't order anything." She shook her head, her brows drawing in.

He looked down at the device in his hand, as if to confirm something. He then looked up again. "You're Miss Ibrahim, aren't you?"

She nodded.

He held the paper bag out. "Then it's for you." He confirmed, his smile never faltering.

Amina's head tilted to the side slightly, as she warily extended her hand out to collect the delivery with caution. Her eyes took in the name of the eatery's name written on the bag—it's a popular place. She's been hearing of it. Apparently, they have good food.

The Korean dramas she's watched seemed to advertise it a great deal as well. The 'Subway' logo was hard to miss.

The delivery man then handed out his tablet to her. "Can I have your signature, please?"

She nodded, not giving much thought to it. "Yeah, sure." She took it and managed with her other occupied hand to scribble her signature, to signify her accepting the delivery. The man left immediately after while she trudged back into the apartment, closing the door softly behind her.

She took off the hijab and threw it on one of the couches in the living room, while she made her way to the adjoined kitchen. Dropping the delivery on it, she slipped her hand into it and brought out the packs in there, instantly salivating at the sight of the content.

Subway Sandwich—chicken Teriyaki. Chicken salad packed differently, and fresh brewed ice tea.

Her lips slowly slanted upwards into a grin. She's never been a fan of heavy breakfast, and though that was more than she would normally have, she couldn't help but be grateful for whoever sent her that. She would've had straying, negative thoughts regarding the sender however, she realized a note placed at the bottom of the bag just in time.

Though, truth be told, it didn't give much information about the sender. Or to be more precise, she didn't quite get the message written on it.

Iwby.

-04.

That was it. Nothing more.

It looked like a code of some sort, with the whole letters and number thing. She would've taken it as perhaps something related to the eatery—perhaps, a number of their orders per day. But, she was quick to abolish that thought. Reason being, the note was definitely handwritten. The messy handwriting spoke volumes.

It doesn't ring a bell though. Nothing about the note does.

Pressing her lips together, she made her way to the refrigerator and pinned the note on it, her finger lingering on it for a second longer. She wasn't sure why she did that, it was just like an instinct that's hard to put a finger on. She chose to not give much thought to it—believing that whatever it meant, it will slowly unravel itself.

So, turning around, she made her way back to the kitchen island and devoured her breakfast in record time, leaving the ice tea for when she's done dressing up. Perhaps, it's because she hadn't taken anything last night, not having the appetite after the incident, but she devoured her breakfast. All of it.

She's never done that before. And a small part of her brain even considered nagging her, reminding her that such eating habits will lead to her gaining weight but she pushed it away, unwilling to let anything ruin her morning.