She had slipped and cried out. The thought of the potential consequences horrified her. Seung-Bae had, thankfully, been the only man in the coffee shop. She shook her head, flinging away the image of what might have happened had she not been so fortunate – the image of disgust twisting and disfiguring Seung-Bae’s face when he saw her for what she truly was.

Careful. She had to be more careful.

She hadn’t intended to come to this place, but after fleeing across the busy street the ramp had appeared as if by magic in front of her. Following it, she found herself a level below the chaos and near a sliver of waterway that stretched to each side and beyond her sight. A walking path ran alongside it and, near the edge, a concrete wall low enough to sit on. The rush of the stream washed out the frantic voices and car horns from above as it cut a peaceful pathway through the city.

She sat and hugged her arms across her chest. Her leg throbbed.

Footsteps against pavement sounded from behind, and then Seung-Bae sat down beside her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Let me see.” He leaned over to inspect her leg. “That looks painful,” he sympathized.

She lifted her leg to see for herself. Two sharp puncture wounds hovered several inches above her ankle. They oozed dark red trails that disappeared beneath the white leather of her new shoe.

Seung-Bae riffled through the backpack and pulled out the old t-shirt she’d been wearing that morning. He moved to his knees and pressed it against the gashes, wrapping both of his hands around her calf to hold it firm. She leaned forward to look.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I guess that idea was kind of a disaster.” Then he lifted his face.

His nose was suddenly an inch from hers. She hadn’t had such a clear view of his eyes since the moment he’d opened them and turned to look at her back at the beach. Rich, earthy brown flaked with amber framing warm pools of quiet darkness. Steady, serious, soulful. Eyes she could melt into.

            The realization left her stunned.

            Something cold and smooth slipped onto her finger.

            “You said before that you bonded to me, right?”

            She looked down. A silver ring encircled the base of her fourth finger. Along its front, the bottom half of a heart had been engraved and set with a dusting of tiny diamonds.

            “Let’s say this is a symbol of that bond.” Seung-Bae’s voice was low and breathless. “And now, I am bound to you too.”

            Seung-Bae held up his hand to show her the matching ring around his finger, the upper half of the heart. The two rings fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Just like James’s necklace, yet this ring was for her alone. This wasn’t a shared memory. This moment belonged entirely to her, and to Seung-Bae. The pain in her leg melted away and warmth flooded through her.

“What do you think? Looks pretty good, huh.”

            She gaped back at him, amazed. Far away, a part of her mind whispered that she was close to getting what she needed from him. That he was almost ready.

            And then, Seung-Bae leaned in close and kissed her. His lips were soft, full of heat and tenderness. She tasted milk and bittersweet and, beneath, the essence of him. Her breath stilled and then she drew it in, slow and ragged.

The concrete wall began to sing.

“Ignore it,” Seung-Bae whispered against her lips. He raised one hand to her face, cradling her head and slipping his fingers into her hair. His mouth opened over hers and his tongue pressed into her. His thumb brushed her cheek, and she thought that, despite all her years, she had never been kissed in such a way before. An ache began in her chest, blossoming with the blush that spread across her skin.

            But then, suddenly, her deeper self clawed to the surface, the need within recognizing a beginning to the end, and like a parched wanderer reaching for the hope of a sweet blue mirage, she crushed into him and drank him up.

Two schoolgirls passing by tittered behind their fingertips and pointed before grabbing hold of each other’s hands and skipping off.

The concrete wall sang again.

“Dammit,” Seung-Bae growled, pulling away. He snatched up one of the devices he’d placed on the ledge next to her and glared at it. “It’s Hawk,” he mumbled.

Then he burst into laughter. “Idiots,” he tapped furiously for a moment, and then held the screen of the phone in front of her so she could see it.

“It’s your picture. I don’t know what insanity he managed to get you involved in yesterday, but he says the police have this posted on their missing person’s board.”

As she stared at him, watered. The hunger rolled in agony beneath her flushed skin. She shivered with the effort of control.

“Look at this. It doesn’t even make sense. You’re wearing my old World Cup shirt. This picture was obviously taken yesterday. It’s not even a very good picture. You’re not even smiling.”

He looked up at her.

“Haenyeo…”

Her eyebrows curved upwards.

“Smile for me.”

He grinned, bathing her in a look filled happiness and warmth, and something joyful erupted inside her. She beamed back at him.

“Now that is a picture.”

He lifted the cell phone and captured her.