Epilogue

The door to apartment 903 is closed, hiding the resident behind the concrete walls. Taeyeon, who has stayed in front of the door for a good few minutes, sighs for the third times. They haven't talked to each other for more than three months now, she doesn't know how will his reception be.

But the decision to come to Jiyong's place has been made. Taeyeon is not one to back down from her own decision.

So she knocks.One, two, three times.

And he opens the door looking miserable hell. His eyes reflects pain, sadness, an anger so deep Taeyeon can almost feel the cut in her heart too.

So she hugs him.

There, under the threshold, in the old apartment building where they first met a few months ago. She hugs him tight, letting action conveys her feelings instead of words.

“She shouldn't have done it. She shouldn't.” It nearly sounds like a whimper, the sounds he makes as he hugs her back.

“I'm sorry, Ji.” She had never called him Ji before but she does this time. It feels so right to call  his name like they have known each other for so long. “I'm sorry.”

Her hands go around his body, one patting his back gently. She can smell soju and cigarette smoke from his shirt but she cares not. She hugs him until someone comes out from the lift in the corner. Wendy, hugging a basket full of laundry, clearly stealing glances at them. That's where she decides to gently lead Jiyong back into the apartment, save from prying eyes.

“I could save her. I would.” He starts again after plopping on the couch, burying his face in his hands.

Taeyeon presses a cigarette to the bottom of an ashtray, killing the source of smoke while choosing to ignore the empty soju bottles on the floor and on the table. She sits by Jiyong side, not 100% sure what to do but want to stay by his side in this difficult time.

This evening, two days after Jin Goo was sentenced to death, Jiwon ended her life. The news came to Taeyeon from the mental health institution where Jiwon is treated. And it was with a bleeding heart she realized that it had been too late to help Jiwon. That Jiyong's effort to shield Jiwon from harm had come to no fruition.

So she came to him, nearly trampled the speed limit because she wanted to be by his side as soon as possible. Because she knew this will be hard for him. But now that she is at his side, she can't even figure out the right words to say.

“What am I supposed to do, Taeyeon? People die because of me” Still burying his face in his hands, Jiyong sounds like he's in the verge of crying.

Taeyeon slowly rests a hand on his shoulder, wanting to do more but have lost all the bravery that made her hug him a few minutes ago. “You might be at fault but there's no use of blaming yourself. Not for the rest of your life.”

She watches his reaction before going on. “You've tried your best, Ji. But no one can really go against fate."

"This pain, mourn for it all you want."  She looks around the messy quarters, hoping Jiyong will find a way to get back to his old-self. "But after that, please move on. Live your life to  the fullest, at least for your mother.”

Apparently Taeyeon's words tear his shield apart. He gives up, breaking into silent tears.

It's painful, to see a man drowning in his pain. Taeyeon can only imagine how traumatic it was for Jiyong and the rest of the surviving kids from FF 953 Chungnam. And now that she was stupid enough to mention his late mother, it only hurts him more.

Moved by guilt, she moves closer to him. Prying his hands from his face, she holds them in hers. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I mentioned your late mother.”

He looks up, eyes red and cheeks wet. Anger and sadness storming all over. Taeyeon realizes nothing she can say to make it better. So she just envelopes him into a hug.

There on the bright yellow couch, he clings to her, crying like a child.

There in his living room, her heart beats fast when Jiyong rest his head on her shoulder.

It feels odd but it also feels right. A few minutes pass by and Taeyeon eventually breaks free of all reservations. She wants to be there for him, so she will be there for him. If a hug is all he needs then a hug she will give. She tightens her hug. Her arms go around him like a warm cocoon built to keep him safe.

The tears subside but not before her arms feel numb, her waist sore and her initially racing heart calmed. After a while of not moving she realizes that he has fallen into a sleep. There in her arms, a soft snore reverberates from his chest.

It's so absurd, too intimate and it's probably happening because of the alcohol streaming in his blood. But she's not in the mood to analyze anything. Too tired, too sleepy, and too confused to protest too.

In the end she just closes her eyes, letting go, not even bracing herself for tomorrow.

And when tomorrow does come. Taeyeon wakes up with Kwon Jiyong staring at her.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She sits up on the couch, realizing that there's a blanket over her body.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Taeyeon covers her yawn while trying to smooth her hair with the other hand, multitasking because she knows not even a princess wakes up in the morning looking like a princess.

“Coffee?” He points at the cup on the table. Steam coming from it along with enticing smell and embarrassing moment because it dawns on Taeyeon that Jiyong has taken a bath and dressed up. He smells fresh while she probably is having a bad case of morning breath.

“I'm sorry for last night.” He starts again. A shy smile on his face. “I was drunk.”

“It's okay.” Taeyeon stands up, glances at the door. She has to save herself from further embarassment A.S.A.P.  “Excuse me I have to... ummm get back to my apartment.”

“Come back soon.” Jiyong stands up too. Eyes looking extra hopeful. “ Don't let the coffee get cold.”

Taeyeon gapes, for a moment before an equally shy smile adores her face. “Okay.”

And just like metal to a magnet, Taeyeon come back to his apartment after a quick bath and spending fifteen minutes choosing what to wear.

The cup of coffee is no longer on the table when she arrives. It has turned cold so he's making a new one from her. Instant coffee, the kind she distastes but she doesn't have the heart to tell him so.

She eventually makes a simple toast and omelette for both of them and then, for a moment, they share no words, just having breakfast silently at his small kitchen island.

“I want to arrange a funeral for Areum.” He says while taking dirty dishes to the sink.

“I'll help.” She offers while sipping her share of coffee. It tastes awful for one who's accustomed to fresh-brewed. Drin