"I can't," I gasped for air, my voice strained as I clung desperately to a nearby tree, feeling the world spin around me. Waves of nausea washed over me, and I gagged, tasting the bitter bile rising in my throat - a turbulent storm threatening to erupt from within me like the fiery fury of Mount Vesuvius. My chest tightened with each labored breath, my legs threatening to buckle beneath me as they strained to support my trembling frame.

Closing my eyes against the overwhelming sensation of dizziness, I wheezed, "Go on without me. I fear I am on the brink of actual expiration."

My words were punctuated by ragged gasps, each breath a struggle against the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. I could practically hear the violins playing in the background, adding a dramatic soundtrack to my plight.

As the theatrical scene unfolded before him, Hanbin simply raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusement rather than concern as he rolled his eyes. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at my exaggerated display of distress, "It's not that bad, Sooyoung. You'll be fine."

I shot him a menacing glare, attempting to muster all the intensity of a Shakespearean villain, threatening him between my labored breaths, "If I die, I'll actually haunt you."

"Don't worry, I'll tell your textbooks you love them," Hanbin says, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he remains unbothered by my ghostly warning.

You see, Kim Hanbin's idea of fun involved the death of Ahn Sooyoung. Here I am, stranded in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by towering trees that seem to mock my predicament. The sky above is a mere glimpse, overshadowed by the dense foliage. And to top it all off, Kim Hanbin, my self-appointed adventure buddy, has dragged me out here on my day off after four consecutive shifts at the hospital, claiming it's another "questionable decision," and I'm starting to believe him. As if hiking up a mountain is the best way to unwind after a grueling week.

Hanbin seemed greatly oblivious to my lack of fitness as he almost skipped in his place, unbothered by the treacherous walk. Meanwhile, I stumbled behind him like a wounded gazelle in a lion's den, wheezing and gasping for air with every step. My legs threatened mutiny, and I could practically hear my muscles groaning in protest as they screamed, 'Why, Sooyoung, why?'

But Hanbin, oh no, he was in his element, his enthusiasm as boundless as my regret for agreeing to this madness. He bounded ahead, spouting off trivia about the flora and fauna around us as if we were on a leisurely stroll in a botanical garden, rather than a death march up Mount Doom. And all the while, I couldn't decide whether to curse him or nominate him for the "Clueless Adventurer of the Year" award.

"I hope you know that once the investigators find my corpse, you'll be their prime suspect," I retorted, my words laced with mock seriousness as I watched him, yet again, roll his eyes. In my mind's eye, I could already envision the headlines: '27-year-old nurse, killed by adventure,' blaring across newspapers, and on my tombstone, the ominous epitaph: 'Death by hike.'

But Hanbin, ever the optimist, simply flashed me an amused grin, as if my impending demise was nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his grand scheme of things. With a theatrical sigh, he descended towards me, offering his hand as if he were some gallant knight coming to rescue a damsel in distress, offering an escape from the impending doom that awaited me on this treacherous trail.

"Come on, we're almost there," he reassured, smiling promisingly with his pearly, almost blinding whites that acted as the sun in the darkness of this forest. With a melodramatic groan, I reluctantly grabbed his hand, feeling myself being yanked from my spot as he dragged me along the remainder of the journey, with me trailing behind like a ragged doll being towed by an overeager child.

Within mere minutes, my tears blended with the sweat dripping down my cheeks as we finally arrived at the mountaintop. Despite the exhaustion and the impending threat of death by hike, the sight before me almost took my breath away faster than the arduous walk itself.

There it was, stretching out before us like a breathtaking panorama painted by the gods themselves. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the breathtaking view of the city of Seoul that greeted us. The skyline was etched against the canvas of the dusky sky, painted in orange, pink, and purple hues as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its final farewell for the day.

The twinkling lights of the metropolis began to emerge, one by one, like stars coming to life in the darkness. From this vantage point, I could see the bustling streets below, bathed in the warm glow of street lamps and neon signs, the Han River reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunset.

For a moment, all the pain and exhaustion melted away, replaced by a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty of the world around us. Despite the hardships endured along the way, the reward at the summit made it all worth it.

As I stood there, tears still glistening in my eyes, Hanbin finally let go of my hand and chuckled at my emotional reaction. He raised an eyebrow, his smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Not bad, right? Now, what was that again about haunting me?"

I casted him a glare, my earlier theatrics giving way to a flicker of suspicion as I eyed the dense forest surrounding us, the shadows growing longer with the fading light of dusk, "How do I know we're not here so you could murder me and bury my corpse by the trees?"

Hanbin's laughter echoed in the evening air, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of the city below.

"Trust me, if I wanted to murder you, I'd come up with something far more creative than a hike," he teased, his playful demeanor doing little to ease my lingering sense of paranoia. Despite his reassurances, I couldn't help but shoot him a skeptical look, half expecting a hidden weapon to appear from his backpack at any moment.

But as he placed the backpack on the ground by the cliff and began rummaging through it, my curiosity got the better of me. To my relief, he pulled out a blanket and a few lunch boxes, placing them on the ground before sitting down. He glanced back up at me, patting the spot next to him with an inviting smile. "Come on."

Reluctantly, I joined him, settling down on the blanket with a cautious glance over my shoulder. As I reached for one of the lunch boxes, I couldn't help but wonder if this was just another one of Hanbin's elaborate schemes. As he handed me one of the lunch boxes, I noticed the familiar aroma of Korean cuisine wafting from within. I found myself saying, "So death by poison then? Or are you just fattening me up to eat me?"

Hanbin's eyes widened in mock horror, his expression feigning innocence.

"Oh, I assure you, my dear Sooyoung, my mother's cooking is to die for," he quipped, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm, "And as for eating you, I think you're safe for now. You're much too bony for my taste."

I shot him a playful glare, rolling my eyes at his teasing. Despite my initial suspicions, there was something oddly comforting about his lighthearted banter. I couldn't help but feel reassured by the thought of Hanbin's mother preparing the meal. After all, there's nothing quite like a mother's cooking to soothe the soul and ease any lingering doubts (not that I would know). Watching as Hanbin wasted no time indulging in the food, I too started eating. The flavors of home permeated each dish, filling me with a sense of warmth and belonging that I hadn't realized I was craving.

Growing up, family meals were never a source of joy for me. There were no cherished memories of laughter around the dinner table, no comforting aromas wafting from the kitchen as my mother cooked. Instead, mealtimes were a somber affair, marked by silence and tension, each bite a reminder of the distance between us.

But here, now, surrounded by the sights and smells of Hanbin's mother's cooking, I allowed myself to be swept away by the moment. Each mouthful was a revelation, a symphony of flavors that danced on my taste buds, filling me with a sense of comfort and contentment that I hadn't experienced in years.

As I savored each bite, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the family dinners I had never known. But in that moment, with Hanbin by my side, the taste of home lingered on my lips. 

As we finished our meal, a comfortable silence settled between us, punctuated only by the occasional chirping of crickets and the distant hum of the city below. With the last of the food gone, Hanbin leaned back against his hands, his gaze drifting lazily toward the darkening sky.

"This didn't turn out so bad, did it?" Hanbin asked teasingly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Snorting, I rolled my eyes before giving in with a nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me.

"Yeah, surprisingly not terrible," I admitted, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips, surprised by how much I had enjoyed myself despite my initial reservations. A playful glint appeared in Hanbin's eyes as he turned to look at me.

"You know what would make it even better?" he suggested, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Truth or dare?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion, the idea of playing such a childish game under the starlit sky seeming both absurd and strangely appealing.

"Are you serious?" I asked, unable to hide the amusement in my voice. Hanbin grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Dead serious," Hanbin replied, his tone daring me to accept the challenge. Sighing, I fixed my seating position, preparing myself for whatever he had up his sleeve.

"Alright then," I said, meeting his gaze head-on. "Truth."

"Booo, you're boring," he booed, teasingly. I shrugged, unfazed by his reaction. Playing it safe was second nature to me; it was a lesson learned from a lifetime of cautious living. After all, better to be boring than sorry, right? 

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Hanbin grinned while pondering his question for a moment before leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Sooyoung," he began, his tone tinged with curiosity, "tell me, what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of a crush?"

I snorted, expecting nothing less from him. With ease, I answered, "Nothing. I've never had a crush."

Hanbin raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response.

"Really? Never?" he asked, his disbelief evident. I nodded, a small smirk playing on my lips.

"Yep, never," I confirmed, feeling a sense of pride in my nonchalant admission, "I've always been too focused on other things to worry about crushes."

"Well, aren't you just a mystery wrapped in an enigma," Hanbin remarked, though the twinkle in Hanbin's eyes told me he wasn't convinced as he chuckled. "Alright then, your loss. Your turn."

"Truth or dare?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of mischief.

"Truth," Hanbin replied with an innocent grin, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his predictable choice. After all, he was the one who had called me boring just moments ago.

"Well, then, Mr. Daredevil," I began, my tone dripping with sarcasm. Pondering on my question, I smirked before leaning in closer, "What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in public?"

"Easy. Yelling after and hugging my mom in public, but it turned out to not be my mom," he answered confidently only to stop to think again, "Or was it when I accidentally walked into a glass door at a fancy restaurant, thinking it was open? Let's just say it was a real 'shattered' experience."

He snickered at his own pun before continuing, "But wait, there's more. Once, during a school play, I got so caught up in my role that I accidentally moonwalked off the stage and into the orchestra pit. It was a real 'smooth criminal' move if you ask me."

I couldn't help but burst out laughing at his ridiculous admissions. Wiping a tear of mirth, I watched as he grinned, eyes glistening with glee.

"My turn. What's a fact about you that no one knows yet?" Hanbin asked, to which I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why he hadn't bothered to ask what I wanted to choose.

"Hey, you didn't even ask if I wanted truth or dare!" I remarked, but he only rolled his eyes before giving me a knowing look. I mean, he wouldn't be wrong for assuming that I'd choose truth. After all, I'm not exactly the daredevil type.

Huffing, I considered my answer. "I've never been to a noraebang before."

"What?! Are you even Korean?" Hanbin exclaimed, his eyes widening as if this was the most outrageous thing he had ever heard. I couldn't help but chuckle at his dramatic reaction. Trust Hanbin to make a big deal out of something as trivial as my noraebang ity. He smacked his lips, grimacing at me like I was some kind of disappointment, but I could only shrug knowing that it was nothing against my mother's disappointed look every time she looked at me. "I mean, what kind of self-respecting Korean hasn't belted out 'Tears' at least once in their life? The next thing you'll tell me is that you've never had kimchi before!"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his melodramatic response.

"Oh, please," I scoffed, unable to resist teasing him back. "As if my Korean card can be revoked just because I've never subjected innocent eardrums to my questionable singing talents."

Hanbin let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his heart in mock horror.

"Questionable singing talents? So modest, Sooyoung," he replied, his grin widening into a playful smirk. "As a music producer, I believe it's my obligation to make you experience it at least 12 times."

I shot him a skeptical look, my lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

"A music producer?" I scoffed teasingly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. He furrowed his eyebrows in mock offense, prompting me to continue with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Like a Soundcloud rapper?"

"Well, no. I used to work for big companies like YG Entertainment," he stated matter-of-factly, a proud smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back, his posture exuding confidence. "I was part of some pretty big projects there, you know, producing tracks, working with artists. I actually wrote some of the lyrics to BlackPink's 'Whistle'."

His voice tinged with nostalgia as I stared at him with wide eyes. "But now, I prefer the creative freedom that comes with running my own label. It's more... fulfilling."

I couldn't help but feel utterly surprised at his revelation, my skepticism melting away into genuine intrigue.

"YG Entertainment?" I echoed, my voice tinged with awe. "That's... impressive."

The proud smirk on Hanbin's face only seemed to grow as he soaked in my reaction.

"Yeah, it was quite the experience," he admitted, a hint of nostalgia coloring his tone. "But now, I'm all about doing things my own way, you know?"

I nodded slowly, a newfound respect blossoming for the man sitting beside me. It was one thing to joke about his adventurous spirit and questionable decisions, but to learn that he had such an accomplished background in the music industry was a revelation (added to the fact he has a degree in Korean History, like, what?). It added a whole new layer to the enigma that was Kim Hanbin. 

"But about your work at the library?" I interjected, unable to suppress my curiosity. "How does a former YG Entertainment employee end up rescuing damsels in distress from dusty old bookshelves?"

Hanbin chuckled at my question, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Ah, the library," he mused as if reminiscing on a fond memory. "Let's just say it's my side gig, my undercover operation to maintain my mysterious persona."

I couldn't help but laugh at his response, the image of Hanbin, the secret agent librarian, painting itself vividly in my mind.

"Well, you certainly know how to keep things interesting," I remarked, shaking my head in amusement. "But seriously, how did you end up there?"

Hanbin shrugged nonchalantly, a playful grin still lingering on his lips. "Just stumbled into it, I guess. Sometimes life takes you to unexpected places, right?"

"Well, color me impressed," I remarked with a grin, unable to contain the admiration in my voice. "Who would've thought I'd be hanging out with a former YG prodigy on a random mountaintop?"

"Well, how about we cheers to that?" Hanbin suggested with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a playful smirk. Without missing a beat, he reached into his backpack once more, retrieving two cans of beer with the ease of a seasoned pro.

I stared at the can in his outstretched hand, feeling a surge of uncertainty wash over me. Sure, I'd heard of beer and seen people drink it before, but the idea of actually consuming alcohol was entirely foreign to me. It was like being handed a mysterious elixir from a far-off land—a concoction with unknown powers and unforeseen consequences. Noticing my apprehension, he chuckled as if already knowing, "It seems like I'm taking a lot of your firsts. Don't worry, it has low alcohol content. Stop whenever you feel like it."

Somewhat reassured, though still skeptical, I grabbed the can from him and watched as Hanbin too opened his own. With a grin, he tapped my can with his before taking a sip. Seeing no harm in trying, despite sitting on top of a hill with the sun dipping below the horizon, I cautiously lifted the can to my lips. Once the sparkly liquid hit my tongue, I couldn't help but grimace slightly at the bitterness, prompting Hanbin to let out a snicker of amusement. Swallowing, I glanced at him, managing a wry smile, "It's definitely an... acquired taste."

"You'll get used to it," Hanbin reassured me, his grin unyielding as he took another hearty gulp. With a clatter, he set the can down on the ground, as if marking the spot where my initiation into the world of alcohol began. With a satisfied sigh, he flashed me a mischievous grin. "What's an accomplishment you're proud of?"

"I've been off antidepressants for 5 years now, going strong," I admitted with a wry smile. "Though I still occasionally miss the blissful numbness they provided, my therapist isn't exactly on board with that sentiment."

I chuckled, the memory of my therapist's incredulous expression still vivid in my mind. Hanbin's impressed smile and round of applause caught me off guard, the unexpected validation warming me from the inside out. It was rare to receive acknowledgment for such a personal achievement, especially from someone like him—a former high school bully turned mountain-top drinking accomplice. Yet, there was a genuine sincerity in his reaction that touched me in a way I hadn't anticipated.

"Hey, look at you!" he exclaimed, his tone filled with genuine admiration. It was a simple phrase, but coming from him, it carried a weight of significance that I couldn't ignore. For once, I allowed myself to bask in the glow of my own accomplishments, to revel in the progress I had made on my journey toward self-improvement. And in that moment, surrounded by the fading light of the setting sun and the quiet solitude of the mountains, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride in how far I had come, "Now, what was a dream that didn't come true?"

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to point out that Hanbin had once again skipped the formality of asking if I chose truth or dare, or that it was my turn to ask him. At this point, it seemed we had transitioned into a game of truth and truth, delving into each other's deepest secrets like a pair of middle school girls at a sleepover party. I half expected Hanbin to produce a set of pillows from his backpack next, ready to instigate a full-blown pillow fight.

As Hanbin's question hung in the air, I found myself pondering, reflecting on the unexpected turn our relationship had taken. When had I become comfortable enough to confide in someone who had once been my high school tormentor? It was a strange realization, one that I couldn't quite wrap my head around. But amidst the laughter and banter, amidst the shared moments of vulnerability, it seemed that the barriers between us had slowly begun to crumble.

Sighing softly, I settled onto the grass, my legs crossed beneath me as I watched the sun dip below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky. Despite the lingering uncertainty, there was a sense of peace in the air, a quiet reassurance that perhaps, despite our complicated history, Hanbin and I were finding common ground, forging a new connection built on mutual understanding and acceptance.

"I wanted to be a doctor," I confessed, my voice tinged with a hint of bitterness as I recalled the countless hours spent studying and striving to meet my mother's expectations. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. It was about chasing a dream that had never truly been mine—a dream that had weighed me down, suffocating me with its unattainable standards. A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I continued, "But I failed P.E. in junior year, and then my grades in senior year just... plummeted."

It was the harsh reality of my own limitations, a reminder that no matter how hard I tried, some dreams were simply out of reach.

As the words spilled from my lips, I couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness in my chest. Admitting my failed dreams wasn't just about confessing a missed opportunity; it was about confronting the weight of expectations that had been placed upon me. Becoming a doctor had never truly been my dream—it had always been my mother's. Yet, for years, I had chased after it with unwavering determination, only to stumble at the final hurdle.

"It's funny, isn't it?" I remarked with a bitter smile, my gaze fixed on the horizon where the last traces of sunlight were fading away. "I spent so long working toward a goal that was never truly mine to begin with. And so I settled for the next best thing; becoming a nurse."

But as I spoke, a sense of liberation washed over me, as if finally acknowledging the truth had lifted a weight from my shoulders. In the quiet of the fading evening, I stole a glance at Hanbin, noticing the understanding in his eyes. He didn't probe, didn't ask for explanations—just nodded, a silent gesture of support that I deeply appreciated. Then, unexpectedly, it was his turn to share.

"A few years back, I ended up in a really dark place, and succumbed to…" his voice trailed off, the weight of his confession palpable. I waited, holding my breath, wondering what demons he battled in the shadows of his past. But Hanbin's expression remained guarded, his words carefully chosen.

"...succumbed to the pressure," he finally finished, his tone veiled yet laden with significance. It was a cryptic admission, leaving much to the imagination but revealing enough to hint at the struggles he faced. Hanbin's admission hung heavy in the air, his words pregnant with unspoken regrets. I sensed there was more to his story than he was letting on, a darkness lurking beneath the surface.

At that moment, I realized that we all carried burdens, some visible and others hidden beneath layers of pretense. Hanbin's confession was a reminder that behind every smile lay a story untold, a battle fought in silence. And as the last vestiges of daylight vanished into the night, I found solace in the shared vulnerability of our truths.

Before I could stop myself, my own voice broke the stillness, the words tumbling out before I could fully process them. "My dad's in prison for beating me."

As Hanbin's shock turned into concern, his gaze searching mine for any sign of distress, I couldn't help but chuckle. The absurdity of it all struck me—the incongruity of sharing such a heavy truth with someone I barely knew, followed by a wave of laughter that bubbled up from within me.

"It's okay," I reassured him between laughter, my voice tinged with amusement rather than sorrow. "I don't remember anything of it. I'm just glad he can't touch anyone anymore."

Hanbin's expression shifted from shock to a mixture of disbelief and sympathy, unsure of how to react to my nonchalant disclosure. But as my laughter echoed in the stillness of the evening, I realized that the weight of my past no longer burdened me. It had become just another chapter in the book of my life, a story to be told with a hint of irony rather than pain. 

As Hanbin's expression softened with understanding, his voice taking on a gentler tone, I sensed the gravity of his words even before he spoke them.

"Sooyoung," he began, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken truths, "there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

I turned to face him, curiosity mingled with a hint of apprehension. Despite the light-heartedness of our earlier conversation, I could sense that whatever Hanbin had to say carried a deeper significance, something beyond the surface banter that had defined our interactions thus far. You know, besides the fact that I just admitted to being objected to child abuse.

His words hung in the air, a palpable tension settling between us as I waited for him to continue. The laughter from moments ago faded into the background, replaced by a sense of anticipation tinged with a hint of apprehension.

"What is it?" I asked, my tone betraying a mixture of curiosity and caution. There was a part of me that feared what he might reveal, yet another part that longed for the catharsis of shared honesty.

Hanbin hesitated, his gaze searching mine as if trying to gauge my reaction before proceeding. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I know I've been really stupid and cruel in the past, but... I want you to know that I'm genuinely sorry for how I treated you back then."

His confession caught me off guard, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me. Part of me wanted to dismiss his apology, to cling to the bitterness of past grievances. But another part yearned for closure, for the chance to move beyond the scars of our shared history.

"I know I've caused you pain in the past," he continued, his voice tinged with remorse. "And for that, I'm truly sorry, Sooyoung. I understand if you can't forgive me, but I needed to say it."

As Hanbin's words hung in the air, I felt a curious mix of emotions swirling within me. His apology, though unexpected, stirred something deep within my heart. It wasn't that I held onto the pain of the past with bitterness; rather, it had become a distant memory, a chapter in my life that I had long since moved past. Yet, there was a sense of gratitude that washed over me, knowing that Hanbin had taken the time to reflect on his actions and extend a genuine apology.

"It's... it's okay, Hanbin," I finally managed to say, before giving him an assuring smile. "I appreciate your honesty, but it honestly is not something that I ever held against you."

Hanbin's eyes softened with relief at my response, a grateful smile spreading across his face. But before he could say anything more, I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"But," I added, "don't think this means I'm going to let you off the hook that easily. You still owe me for all that torment, you know."

Hanbin's expression shifted from relief to amusement, a smirk curling up the corners of his lips. He nodded, agreeing as he chuckled, lightening the mood. But beneath the humor, I could see a hint of sincerity in his eyes.

"Good," he said, his voice carrying a note of earnestness. "I promise, I'll make it up to you."

Taking another sip of my beer, the bitterness of the taste a contrast to the sweetness of the moment, and I found myself appreciating the simple pleasure of the moment. The cool breeze, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the soft glow of the moon above created a tranquil atmosphere that soothed my soul. Before long, Hanbin spoke again, "Sooyoung."

I turn back to face him, watching his now colored cheeks puffing out as he pouted, another wash of anxiety flowing through me, "I have to tell you something else."

As Hanbin leaned forward with a dramatic sigh, I couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his demeanor. His usually sharp and focused eyes now seemed clouded with a distant haze, their usual sparkle dulled by exhaustion. His cheeks, normally tinged with a rosy hue, now appeared flushed with a telltale warmth that spoke volumes. It was as if he was lost in a world of his own, disconnected from the reality of our surroundings.

"What?" I asked hesitantly, the slur of his words lingering in the air between us as he propped his elbows on his knees with a huff. The sight of him swaying ever so slightly sent a jolt of realization coursing through me, like a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark recesses of my mind. It was as if a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place, revealing the truth hidden in plain sight.

I blinked, my mind struggling to process the revelation unfolding before me. Could it be? The mere thought sent a shiver of disbelief down my spine, a wave of mortification crashing over me like a tidal wave. Turning his head to look at me, he shot me with a sheepish grin before giggling.

"I'm actually a really lightweight drinker."