1.2 | The Night and Its Stars ⌜ yeosang ⌟

FOURTEEN | FAUX PAS

Hair unstyled on his head as if he had combed through it with only his fingers moments prior. Dark circles under his eyes, not unlike her own. The navy tie looped around his neck was crooked. His feet dragged as they walked through the park, teeth gnawing at his lip.

He seemed more on edge than usual. Restrained, maybe, like every bone in his body would have preferred to bolt in the opposite direction. That much, she related to at least.

She bit her cheek, unable to resist sending a question his way. It was genuine, even if it was laced with the underlying irritation she felt. His arrogance, his tardiness, his silence, his everything—all of it was grating on her nerves at the moment.

"Did you roll out of bed and come straight here?"

His head turned in her direction, expression unreadable, but eyes flaring. She was beginning to notice they always did that. He could bury himself all he wanted, but they would always give him away eventually.

"Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

She grit her teeth. A sick part of herself was soothed by his anger. She could handle that better than silence. It gave her something to work with, something to pick at other than her own wounds.

She threw her hands up, breathing a laugh that was all insult and no injury. "Can't say I do."

His brow twitched at the same time his lips did. It was too smug to be a smile, too weak to be a smirk. "Maybe you should. Would have certainly saved you a few times."

He was right. She hated that he was right. The words would have hurt less coming from anyone else. She turned to face him, every word that fell from her lips scathing in their truth.

"From you or just the rest of you?"

He was facing away from her now, his features barely distinguishable from darkness. "Does it matter?"

She pored over the question in her mind. Maybe it didn't. She felt like it mattered. Something about him was different from the others, but as for what, she didn't know. It was like staring at a photo out of focus. The anomalies were visible, but not clear.

Their voices died after that. No matter how much the both of them disliked each other, neither had the energy to spare on an argument. They both were here at Juyeon's behest.

Him, to catch a glimpse of a stalker. Her, to catch a glimpse of some hidden, untouchable side of him. She doubted the latter would happen. He already knew her intentions through and through. It would take the world to make him slip up now and she couldn't be bothered to try.

The gabled roof of the pavilion where the event was held could be seen over the treetops.

Min wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself at the sight of it, daring to speed up a little bit to get the night over with. No one had bothered to tell her what the event was about, but judging by the people around them donned in elaborate fabrics, she assumed it was more rich people culture.

    She assumed wrong.

    At the base of the hill where the pavilion sat, a sign had been erected on the side of the stone path. Her step faltered as she read the lettering.

    A Celebration of Memory: The Bright Life of Somin.

    Her head whipped in Yeosang's direction instantly. He walked ahead of her, displaying no visible reaction to the event other than the stiffness with which he held himself.

    He already knew.

Of course he did. No wonder he had seemed so withdrawn earlier. No wonder he had rushed out of the meeting like that a week ago. She was the only one left in the dark, as she always was. She stood at the base of the hill for a moment, eyes dragging up to the looming structure ahead. Breathing a sigh, she forced her heavy feet forward.