There was a sense of warmth inside of the cab I shared with another half-drunken man who was falling asleep against the door. He was young, looking like he could be in college, with unusual blond hair and small brown eyes that made him look even more adorable than he did sleeping. There was a yellow and black jacket on his lap, followed by his vibrating phone with the name 'Gang Hee Jin' flashing as the caller. The man suddenly jerked awake, and looked down at the phone and groaned. He passed his thumb on the red button, then leaned back on the seat. When it rang once again, he groaned loudly and turned off the phone.

"I'm sorry," he bowed his head in my direction. "My ex-girlfriend keeps calling me."

"No," I shook my head and smiled. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault." I nodded slowly, then sat up to stare at the window besides me. The city lights flashed before me, making me smile as cars and people passed by with joyous smiles and pumped up attitudes. They all had a sense of merriness around them, which I could thankfully feel inside the cab.

The guy next to me, had his head back with his eyes closed and an annoyed expression around his eyes and lips. Suddenly, he sat up and looked at me straight in the eyes with a smile. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help but to introduce myself. I'm Woo Ji Ho, my friends sometimes call me Zico."

"I'm Jung Mo Ne," I bowed my head. "It's nice to meet you Woo Ji Ho-ssi."

"Please, call me Zico," he grinned. "As I said, my friends call me Zico."

"We are yet to be friends, Woo Ji Ho-ssi," I smiled, looking up from my hands. "I just met you not even a minute ago."

"Then get to know me." There was a flirtatious tone to his voice, which made me smile a slight bit. Woo Ji Ho, or Zico, kept asking me questions about my favourite things, including movies and artists and foods. It surprised me that he took a sudden interest in me, especially when I probably smelt like dried squid, soju, and sweat. There was nothing attractive about me then, even my makeup was messed up from the moving in the hospital and the dancing and singing in the norebang room. In the short twenty minute ride to the apartment complex, we knew about each other just as much as friends would know. He took my phone number and muttered something about meeting up the next weekend for more norebang​. I, being the wonderful person I was, agreed with a smile before I closed the door to the cab and paid the driver.

As the lift made it's way up to floor fifteen, I couldn't help but smile more and more with each passing of the numbers. I reminded myself that I was going to see Yongguk for the first time since I stitched his wounds from the accident, and that made me more happy than anything. The bullet wound on his back was just a memory now, a simple storm that had finally passed by. Even though I kept the small bullet—and it was now cleanly hidden in a small wooden box under my bed with just a bit of dried blood that denied to come off—it was just a past memory that I decided to ignore. I would be lying if I said that I didn't want to know what Yongguk did to have a ten won coin sized bullet wound on his perfectly sculpted back. 

The elevator dinged, and I jumped from the sudden noise, yet ran out of it and straight to the door that I knew oh so well. Somehow, I managed to get the keys out of my bag while trying not to slip on my heels while I almost bumped into a few other people coming out of their own apartments. I didn't apologize, I was too worried about what was going through my mind at the moment than to look at some posh couple and apologize for almost making his girlfriend drop an expensive fur coat from Beijing. 

Inside the apartment, it was completely quiet, which surprised me since Jongup and Junhong would always be having some sort of small fight over who ate the last bungeoppang. Slowly, I opened the door to find the place dark and alone. There was no one inside, which made the happiness inside of me seep away into fright. I called out their names, yet received absolutely no answer from anyone. "If you're playing some sick joke, you better be sorry!" Still, no one answered. 

I took careful and calculated steps inside the apartment, watching every shadow around me. Nothing moved, not even the blinds that covered the windows. It was all just too quiet, and it bothered me. Then, I felt a hand grab my wrist from behind. I turned around to scream, but another hand covered my mouth. I thrashed around, wanting to get away from whomever was that had a hold on me. Once a deep laugh came out of my captor, I stopped moving. Turning around, I came face to face with the person I have missed so much. I didn't care whether he was ill or hurt, I hit him in the chest as hard as I could, causing him to groan. 

"You bastard!" I hit him again. "Why the hell would you scare me like that?"

"I thought it would be a bit funny," he shrugged. "Did I scare you?"

"No," I sarcastically breathed, "you just gave me a freaking heart attack! You are a horrible person, Bang Yong Guk!" I groaned, hitting him once again in the chest. He grabbed both of my hands when I was about to hit him again, and the smile that was on his lips faded into a serious one. So, I watched him carefully. I watched as his deep brown eyes stared into mine, just like russet staring right into topaz brown. One of his hands holding mine moved to the bag of my neck, a very small smile appearing around his pale pink lips. "I missed you," he breathed. 

"You have no idea how much I missed you," I sighed and wrapped my arms around his chest. "I thought I killed you while trying to sow up your wound."

"Maybe you did something bad since I, apparently, was out for a whole week," I felt his arms wrap around me. "You need to inform me on everything that happened."

"I will," I smiled, puling away and looking up to his eyes. "But first, I need to change the bandage from your stitches, come on." I remembered that one of my teachers spoke about healing wounds that were stitched, and how they required constant changing the gauze that covered them. 

We sat down on the bed and he, slowly and while trying not to groan, took off his shirt. The gauze that was taped over the wound had a dark colour to it, dried blood, and it was going to be a bit hard to take it off. Slowly, I began to gently pull the gauze from the skin, which caused him to groan loudly and grip the black comforter under him. "Pull it fast!"

"I can't," I kept pulling. "If I do, I might tear the stitched. Do you want me to pass a needle and thread to a wound that might have killed you if it went any deeper?"

"You're not even supposed to stitch a bullet wound!" Yongguk turned his head to look at me, but stopped once I began to pull it a bit tighter. 

"I'm the doctor here!" I pinched his side, causing him to squirm a bit and look at me with an annoyed expression. 

"You're a very bad doctor, Mone," he chuckled. "How do people actually go to you when you're at the hospital? You're slowly killing me here!"

I glared at him, and picked the scissors from the small box filled with medical supplies, and cut the seven stitches that were closing the bullet wound on his right shoulder blade. "Happy?" I groaned. 

"Very," he breathed, flexing what little muscle he could on his back. "The wound heals from the inside out, Mone, that's why it does not need stitches. Trust me, the internet has helped a lot."

"I learned from books," I began to clean the surroundings of the wound, sometimes glancing up to watch Yongguk's face. "I think books are more efficient than the internet, oppa. They have more information—specific information—than the internet. Do you think it'll give you all of the vital information about an illness? No! That's why doctors spend half of their life in school to help people survive!" I covered the wound with a gauze, then wrapped up his shoulder to stop him from touching the gauze and feeling the throbbing pain that he already did. "I'm done."

"It'll hear a bit more faster now," he chuckled as he stood up and turned around. He didn't put his shirt back on, which caused me to look at his chest more than his face. It was well toned, with perfectly lines muscles and slightly glistening from the heat of the room. 

I cleared my throat. "Do you want me to make you something to eat?" I stood up to put away the small medical kit; I felt Yongguk follow. 

"Himchan made me something before he left," he answered. "But I would love some fruit over you telling me what happened while I was out. No one bothered to tell me what happened, absolutely no one."

I recalled that Yongguk mentioned his favourite fruits once, along with every other thing he enjoyed the most when he wanted to simply relax. Peaches were his favourites among all, since they were sweet and soft. They were followed by apples, strawberries, and the sweet persimmon. Whenever we went out, or one of the boys went out, he would ask to buy any of them. Now here I was, peeling his favourite fruits as if I were a housewife while he sat down on the eggshell coloured sofa watching a late night show on the television. 

"Oppa," I muttered while chewing a piece of the peach I cut up, "did you know that Junhong got in a fight?"

"A fight?" he sounded curious. "What about? Junhong has never gotten in a fight in school."

"Three boys spoke about you," I looked up from the apple. "They called you horrible names and said terrible things about you that we all know are not true. Junhong couldn't stand the three immature kids talking about you without knowing you, so he got in a fight with them. The boys did look worse than Junhong." I smiled at the end, trying to calm him a bit down. 

The dry expression didn't leave his face when I put down the plate filled with fruits. "Is he okay?" he asked. 

"Junhong?" I raised a brow. "Of course he's okay! Why wouldn't he be? I was the one who treated the small injuries."

"And you?" He turned his body to face me, completely ignoring the fruits on the coffee table in front of him. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the bruised chest and shoulders and abdomen, how he still looked fragile since the last time I saw him awake. 

"What about me?"

"Are you okay?" There was no smile, no flirtatious touch on my arm or neck—he was completely serious. 

"Yes," I smiled, passing a hand through my hair. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Because I wasn't there to protect you," he sighed. "What if something happened while I was out? What if the bullet went in deeper and right into my lung, or my hear, or my spinal cord? I could have been paralyzed, Mone, maybe even dead." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. "I should have been more careful about everything; this wouldn't have happened if I was more careful."

"Oppa​!" I stopped him from pulling his hair. "What are you even talking about? Careful about what?" I made him look at me, and smiled. "Oppa, not everyone can outrun a bullet."

"Mone," Yongguk's sigh was something I haven't heard before. By that, I meant that it was filled with guilt and anguish. "If only I could tell you."

"You can," I smiled. "You know you can tell me anything."

"If only I could," He pushed a smile through the small frown around his face. His hand touched my cheek, gently and softly like a flower petal against skin. I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth from his hand to seep into my skin. It was more comforting than a long sleep, than a trip to the sauna, than a warm spring picnic. His hand on my cheek was the warmest, and most coldest, thing that has ever touched my skin. "Only if I could."

"Will you tell me, though?" I opened my eyes and looked at his face, which was now closer to mine than it was a few seconds ago. 

"In time," he smiled, rubbing his thumb up and down. My stomach began to contract, feeling like I was having horrible stomach pains, but they were just butterflies. My heart hammered against my ribcage, like a hummingbird trying to get out. All I could do was stare right in his eyes, admiring the fresh brown colour and the wonderful smile that was around his lips. "In time, I'll tell you everything."

"You promise?" I pulled out my hand, pointing out my pinky and looking at him with a serious face. "You need to promise me that in time, you'll tell me about everything."

He laughed and pulled out his pinky finger, wrapping it around mine. "I promise, Jung Mo Ne." He pulled his pinky away to take my and, holding it tightly in mine. "Just wait for a bit, I'll tell you everything, just wait a bit more."