He swirled the pink straw in the drink that he’d ordered, knocking the ice cubes in soft tumbles but in that lazy gesture, inklings of unease surfaced. He stared through me, behind me, behind him, around us and it was obvious his paranoia was always going to be present, especially when we were out, together. Keyword: together.

“Hey,” I knocked his knuckles with mine, resting gently on the table and he snapped up and out, head bolstering straight and in my direction. With his full and undivided attention caught in my dark orbs, I asked him lightly, “are you alright?”

He shot me his heart-warming smile. The one that his eyes melt into half-crescent moons in the split of a second and I can only sigh and thank god that this beautiful creature returns my affections. He nodded roughly, stopped his incessant straw-swirling to cup his chin and prop up his head and began playing with my fingers with his other free hand. Before, they were just resting on the table, held out in front of me to lessen the distance but now they were dancing, fingers intertwining and toppling over each other. His hand was impossibly cold, a usual trait of his that I had gotten used to and I clasped his palm tight to warm them up.

Outside, Myungsoo wasn’t a man of many words but when it was just the two of us, alone… you could say he was a different person entirely. He was more sheepish, playful and sometimes, a complete idiot, especially if he was with his team-mates but that side of him was always hidden to the big, bad, scary world. Maybe he didn’t want other people, strangers on the street to know what he was really but I was glad all the same. He would tell me these lame jokes and then laugh all by himself as I stared at him with a quizzical brow. He was crazy smart but when it was just the two of us, there were moments where I wondered if he had ever been to school. Once, when he stayed over at my apartment, he picked up a can opener and asked me what it was. When I showed him how it worked, I swear he became obsessed for the rest of the week, suddenly thinking that can soup and tuna were the only staple foods in his diet. His child-like fascination was so endearing and a complete contrast to what his work required of him and I think sometimes, there just needed to be times like these where he can let it all go and not have to stress or worry anymore – to just let the seriousness drain out of him. I know for one, that to be expected to live colourlessly like that for the rest of your life is something that would drive me insane.

“Are you still hungry?” He asked all of a sudden, pulling me out of my daydream. His fingers then pulled out of the igloo I had encircled his palm in and laced themselves between mine; my other hand dangled unnecessarily with no partner and so I pulled it back to pick up my drink and take a sip.

I shook my head. “Nope,” I said as I finished, showing him the empty plastic cup as he smiled again. His smile.

“Alright, let’s go then. I have another surprise.” Never letting go of my hand, Myungsoo stood up and guided me out of the café booth, walking in sync out of the coffee shop. He left his drink unfinished and I thought what a waste, but it seemed he wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t rush me but it felt like he really wanted to – I was always worried that I was too slow for him; I walked slow, did things slowly and took to them at my own pace and I could tell that he tried hard to supress his impatience, waiting faithfully and always there to watch over me.

“Where are you taking me?” I looked up at him and noticed the small peek of that remaining smile hidden under his black trench coat collar. He had pulled it up once outside and he turned to me as he did the same, pulling my jacket collar up to my neck and brushing my hair out of the way with his free hand.

“Secret.” I knew I shouldn’t have asked in the first place; of course it was going to be such a predictable answer. He looked right, then left, then right again before crossing the busy street and we continued walking, his hold on my hand squeezing tight as we stepped foot onto the road. Today was our second year anniversary and maybe that was why he was being more careful than usual. When I woke up this morning and found him cooking in my kitchen with a guilty smile, I couldn’t believe that it had been two years already. Thinking back, it wasn’t really a dramatic romance, if anything is was more a chance encounter.

I was a university student (still am) studying criminology and forensic science and so, I applied for an internship with the National Police Agency as part of an honours program to better my grade and gain experience in the field. I remember when I first saw him with the other members, stumbling into headquarters a few hours past midnight as I was just finishing my case study and writing my thesis. Recently, there had been a homicide in the city of a man who found his wife cheating and murdered her along with the children and I was helping the head doctor, Dr. Cheon synthesise the information and collaborate the evidence for trial. I knew beforehand that this line of work was going to be tough but it was in the name of justice and saving the people so when it all boiled down, I thought all was just worth it. Plus, my Dad had been a police officer but it was in the rural parts of the country and so when I finally had enough money to start university, learning about this area in Seoul, my parents supported me fully.

“Where’s Dr. Cheon.” One of them had asked urgently as I stood up in complete shock, nearly knocking over the lab equipment on the table. There were 7 of them, all heavily armed and thickly padded, wearing black and clomping their weapons down from their bodies and onto the table. They carried an injured member, one arm slung like a puppet around the other as blood pooled down and dripped onto the floor. Another man over to the side began removing his bullet proof vest and did the same to the injured person whilst the others ran around the laboratory, looking through cupboards for what seemed to be first-aid.

“Oi, lady! Where the hell’s Dr. Cheon?” The first guy with the authoritative voice and hard stare shook me out of my frozen state and I just managed to get my brain working again.

“He’s not here at the moment, I’m his assistant. Who are you?”

He shot me a look, as if I couldn’t possibly fit the calibre of assisting someone as great as Dr. Cheon – which he was; he was honestly the most ingenious man on the planet, the second Sherlock Holmes and then scoffed a little as if I would have to do.

“Who we are, isn’t important. You’ve just gotta help us.” He pointed to the injured member and I looked on disparagingly.

“How am I supposed to know if I should help you or not? You could be criminals for all I know!” I retorted and he rolled his eyes, pulling out a leather wallet from his pocket that flipped open to reveal his badge and I.D. ‘Sunggyu’ it read, leader of Infinite. I was to know later that it was the covert name of the group that dealt with underground matters for the National Police Agency.

“Satisfied?”

I grimaced at him. “Whatever.” I walked around the rest of the bumbling boys and finally pulled out the first-aid kit they had been so desperately looking for and they split like the red sea, allowing me to take lead. “Put him on the table.” I ordered and Sunggyu nodded to the others who did as I said.

I heard one of them mumble, “Isn’t that where you put the dead bodies when inspecting them…?”  so I swivelled around and frowned. “If you don’t like it, then take him elsewhere.”

The guy raised his hands in defence and backed-off whilst the others snickered in response. Then, finally looking at the patient, I noticed his two shining obsidian pools had been staring at me the whole time. I couldn’t help and stare back for a few seconds before I focused on the problem at hand: he had a gunshot wound to his thigh and a dislocated shoulder. Well obviously the humble first-aid wouldn’t be enough to handle this situation and I frowned, pulling away to find the anaesthetic cabinet, thinking out loud – “Why is he the only one to get hurt?”

Sunggyu growled, “Cos the idiot wanted to be the hero. That’s why.”

Moving back to the ‘idiot’, he watched intently as I tipped the local anaesthetic bottle upside down and inserted the needle in shakily to draw the liquid out. I was a forensic scientist student, not a doctor but I had seen the move done by Dr. Cheon a few times for other patients since this place was an all-rounder and so tried to mirror the movement. It helped that because I also needed to study anatomy and what not for my courses that I could also apply the knowledge here and I assured myself that I knew what I was doing.  

I pulled open his pant leg to expose more of the wound and injected the anaesthetic into the site of the wound whilst he winced. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. I know what I’m doing.” I repeated again. It took a few minutes for the effects to kick in and so I took the time for ‘fix’ his shoulder.

One of the other members had already taken off his vest and he wore a black, long sleeved shirt made from a thick material, sort of like a wetsuit.  I asked him if it was alright to cut the shirt and he nodded so I used some scissors to remove the material so that he didn’t have to lift his arms to take it off. With the shoulder exposed, I traced my finger across his deft muscle and even then I remember his skin being ice cold. He in a sharp breath at the touch and I pressed into his skin reassuringly. I could feel it, the joint protruding out of its socket and I massaged softly at first to feel for any torn tendons which would worsen the injury.

The entire room was quiet. I looked at him and once again, he never stopped staring back. “This is going to hurt a bit.” I muttered and he nodded again, wordlessly.

Taking in a deep breath, I trailed my fingers down to grab his wrist and with my other hand, held the outside of his shoulder. In soft kneading motions, I pressed the bone around the area of the joint and then in one final force, pushed into back in with a loud pop. His mouth opened and he winced away again as I held him down tight to reduce movement. The other boys cringed too and in the second, I could tell that they were all extremely close.

“You two,” I pointed to two of them, “Go find some ice. There should be some in the staff kitchens; after this, the shoulder will have an inflammatory response and it’s going to swell so we’ll have to ice it down.”  They nodded sternly before rushing off.

Then, I looked back to the gun-wound and grabbed a pair of surgical tweezers I could find and a probe. With a long sigh, I told him to look away and he did so more than eagerly. Feeling around, I found the bullet and managed to pull it out and the blood it had been plugging began to pool out as well. Luckily though, the bullet had been lodged in a vein, not an artery so the loss of blood was little and I applied heavy pressure to the sight with a clean bandage to minimise the bleeding.

After a moment or two, I sanitised the area, wrapped it up tight and hoped for the best.

That was our first encounter and I remember as I had finished, he murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as if it didn’t hurt at all.