𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

{Chapter 34: What Ifs and Maybes}

I can feel my lips trembling, but it wasn't from the cold. Ms. Chae's worried voice booms from the phone on speaker, but I can't find the will to move. I must've stayed like this— my shaky fingers over my mouth and the other glued to the glass pane— for who knows how long. The news is already on showbiz, but my mind was still on the past headline.

This couldn't be happening. ALL PASSENGERS DEAD. No, no, this couldn't be true. I... I still have to style him for the teaser. I still have to give him his outfit for the next MV. I— I'm running out of excuses... but I don't care, he has to be alive! I have to see him again.

"I still have to tell him I love him."

I didn't realize I was crying until I heard my voice crack. This whole day? This whole day will the biggest regret of my life if I don't do anything about it. I refuse to believe this. I have to find him.

With one last sniff, I wipe the tears off of my cheeks. From the mirror, I see my reflection— swollen eyes, puffy cheeks, and my nose feels absolutely stuffy. I swipe my phone off the ground, which thankfully does not have any visible scratches, and I try to talk to Ms. Chae. "I'm going to find him."

"WHAT? Are you crazy? Get your ass back at the studio—"

I hang up. She rings my phone one more time before I turn it off. I stand at the frame of the sidewalk, desperate to hail a cab.

Unfortunately, none of them were cooperating. I try to hold back my tears, but I find myself mewling again. I wave my arms out, a frantic attempt at catching their attention, but none of them stops at my silly effort. Biting my lip, I edge myself further into the road.

It's not over yet. It shouldn't be.

What could've happened if I was honest with my feelings with Soobin for once? Maybe he and I would have stayed a little longer at the bay. Maybe he and I would eat dinner together. Maybe he and I rode a different bus. Maybe there would be such a thing as him and I.

Maybe I wouldn't be filled with this much regret right now.

I hear a loud honk, snapping me back to reality. I become fixed in my place, seeing a bright white light coming my way. I close my eyes, helplessly blinded and helplessly frozen. Everything becomes silent. All I could hear is my heart pounding fast, as if it wasn't already before all of this, but my mind remains blank.

Is this what happens when your life is about to end? Others say that they could see the best moments of their life flashes before their eyes, but strange enough for me, I can only smell one thing. Strong, but not overpowering. A scent I couldn't forget even after a thousand years. And then I see it. The last thing that appears is the princely image of Soobin.

"I love you."

"Hey, watch were you're going, lady! If your planning to cross the road, the pedestrian lane's up front! Tsk. People these days."

I gasp, disoriented by the angry driver's booming voice. My head is filled with all sort of things, my senses overwhelmed. I could hear the car horns, the billboard ads, the chatters of passerby all at once. Was I hit? I suddenly feel hungry. And sick. I could feel the pain on my ankle, the tight grip on my wrist—

"What..."

I bite my lower lip, so hard it hurt. I cover my face from my nose below. I look absolutely horrible when I cry. I can't believe what I was seeing.

"Are you out of your mind?" Soobin's eyes are blisteringly furious, yet his voice remains smooth against the fabric of his face mask. A calm amidst the chaos. His arm is laced firmly around my waist as if he's afraid I'd disappear if he loosens it even for a bit. His jaw ticks, a gesture I've rarely seen from him. Actually, I haven't seen him this mad. He's insanely attractive though. He must be so pissed off at me right now. "What were you thinking—"

But the thing is I wasn't.

I enclose the aching gap between us, puling him into a tight hug, and my sobs are set free. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."

He tenses upon my sudden embrace, but relaxes a few seconds after. He folds the length of his arms around my frame, his hand leaving slow, soft pats on my back and my knees grow weak. Is this real? It has to be, right? I'm hugging him. I can feel him, I can see him, I can smell him— I'm not crazy. Not yet. But to him, I must be. One and a half hour ago I was rejecting him, and now I'm bawling at his torso after a near death experience claiming that I love him.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. I..." He hesitates, but sighs. He pats at my hair, making me burrow further into his chest. "I love you more."

We stay in that position for about ten minutes, I don't know, until I calm down. I'm impressed that he didn't mind the stares we were getting. Now we're sitting at a bench, his black jacket resting on my lap, covering my freezing and still-shaking hands.

"Can you tell me what happened back there—"

"How are you alive?" I cut him off. I could feel the tears threatening to fall again, but damn, I don't think I have enough water in my system.

He shoots me a confused look. Then he laughs. "Um, am I supposed to be dead?"

"Y-Your phone— the bus— the accident. H-How did you..."

He realizes I was being serious. "What are you talking about?"

I inhale, calming my senses with the chilly air. This is going to be challenge not to cry harder than cutting up onions and more difficult not to break down like a game of Jengga.