Junho jogged along the sidewalk that stretched along the famous Han river. Ten minutes ago he received a text message on his phone. It was really short but it worried him.

At Han river. Take me home.

It was way past midnight and a girl being alone outside didn’t sound like it was okay to him. Especially not her; his precious childhood friend.

Junho heaved a relieved sigh when he saw her small stature sitting at the steps looking out at the river. Her knees were touching and her legs closely folded towards her body. He could tell that she was drunk. She always sits that way when she wasn't sober; and of course, the empty cans lying at her feet.

Junho walked to her. He crossed his arms and tapped his feet impatiently, purposely showing his non-consent towards her current condition.

She looked up with sleepy eyes and reddened cheeks. He almost laughed because she looked funny in the state of being half-sane, but she looked very vulnerable and cute like that too. It made him want to wrap protective arms around her. She was going through a tough time at the moment. He felt bad for her because he wished he could help but there was nothing he could do. Sometimes, there were things that you could do nothing about except for watching and prayed that everything would turn out well. She was that case.

"You're taking me home." She slurred.

Junho sighed. At least she was sober enough to ask him to take her home. Even though the way she worded it totally gave him other ideas.

"Come on." Junho bent to reach for her arm but she slapped his helping hand away.

"Ssh… Stay still."

"Why don't you tell that to yourself?" Junho murmured as he finally took a seat next to her. She closed her eyes, her face turned towards the river. The wind was blowing, passing through her strands of jet black hair. Her soft, cherry scented hair teasingly brushed against his face.

"Mm, that feels good." She sighed, enjoying the breeze on her flushed face.

She looked very enchanting in his eyes right now. The vulnerability she showed him, her raw soul that was battered and desperately, barely intact; he wanted to touch her with tenderness. He wanted to soothe away all those bruises, he wanted to kiss her.

But her conscience told him otherwise. This was not the time. Not when she was half-awake and barely aware of her surrounding. He didn’t want to be taking advantage.

She let out a deep breath, her chest slowly falling. Gingerly, she borrowed his shoulder - without permission - and let her head rested there. She closed her eyes, and her breathing turned rhythmic and calm.

Junho chuckled. He slightly turned his face towards her and gently brushed his lips on her forehead. It was his way of saying, 'Don't worry. I'm here,' to someone who was too drunk to comprehend any conversation.