II
Our Denouement
chapterTWO
20 hours and 54 minutes later, Bomi found herself standing at the arrival gate of Incheon International Airport, suitcase in hand. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she watched as everyone around her was embraced one by one with the open arms of their loved ones. She scraped the rubber soles of her dirty Converse against the shiny floor, as her almond-shaped eyes scanned the crowd full of unrecognizable faces.
A warm hand unexpectedly brushed past hers and grasped the handles of her suitcase. Startled, her first instinct was to tackle this presumed thief to the ground and entrap him skillfully with her surprisingly strong limbs.
"I have to give you credit for having the guts to commit theft in such a public place, but you've chosen the wrong person to steal from," she asserted calmly, while the body beneath her remained motionless.
A pair of dark eyes stared back at her blankly, his face expressing a mixture of disbelief and befuddlement.
"Unless you were in dire need of a suitcase full of books and a couple boxes of artificially flavored cereal, I doubt you would find anything useful that's worth all that trouble. I might also want to add that I'm a third-degree black belt and a dance minor, meaning my reflexes are quite good compared to the average woman. Now, I'm going to give you exactly five seconds to beg me for mercy, then proceed by living your life with correct morals, followed by the disposal of this awful habit of yours. And the countdown starts...now. One..."
A crowd has started to gather by then, all witnessing a full grown man be completely ambushed by a petite, pale-skinned girl that looked like she could barely lift a relatively plump infant baby, let alone manhandle someone that seemed to be completely capable of breaking her dainty bones with a lift of his finger. Even the security guards nearby could only gawk at the dilemma playing out before them.
"Three..."
"But I wasn't..."
"Two..."
"Chorong sent me here to come get you, " he rapidly uttered, breathing out a sigh of relief when her grasp on him slowly loosened.
She reached out her hand and helped him up, an expression of guilt and contrition visible on her face. "Should've told me sooner."
Seemingly disappointed that her sister sent a mere chauffeur to come fetch her from the airport, Bomi brainlessly sauntered her way to the vast parking lot. As the cold breeze met her skin, she started to contemplate whether or not it was actually a good idea to return home—that maybe this was a sign. A sign that everyone was better off without her. A sign that she no longer belonged. A sign that she wasn't ready to face them.
▲▼▲
"Seatbelt, please," he sternly stated, eyeing the unbuckled figure in his rearview mirror.
Bomi simply replied by sending him a fiery glare—one that he wasn't afraid to retaliate back with equal intensity. They remained like that for what seemed like an eternity, until Bomi reluctantly complied to his previous demand. Shortly after the click of her seatbelt, the car briefly chortled, then was brought to life with a gentle purr.
"Geez, I bet you drive five miles below the speed limit, don't you?" she asked, with a rather sarcastic tone.
"Yes."
"Great..." Bomi slumped back into the leather seat, observing his stoic face as he turned around to pull out of the parking spot. "What happened to Joonmyeon? I much rather prefer his company."
"Who?" he asked, furrowing his brows at the unfamiliar name.
"Never mind."
Once the vehicle reached the freeway and continued to travel at an excruciatingly slow speed, Bomi irritably unclasped her seatbelt and flung it forcefully against the car window, expressing her agitated state. His dark eyes darted over to her mirrored image, and upon the sight of the strewn seatbelt, the corner of his lips were pulled into a disapproving frown.
Snatching something out of the glove compartment, the man pulled over and calmly stepped out of the car. The low heel of his polished dress shoes clicked against the icy asphalt as he ambled his way towards her. Throwing the door open, he latched her seatbelt on and immediately wrapped her wrists with a strip of a tacky-like, metallic material. By the time he returned to the steering wheel to resume their unbearably slow drive, she was too stunned at his abrupt actions to even react.
"Duct tape? Did you just duct tape my arms together?"
He snickered. "Obviously."
She attempted to raise her arm to wipe that snarky little smirk off of his undeniably handsome face, but then realized she was fully incapable of doing so. Displeased, she let out a scoff and raised her chin up high, sharply turning her head away from him.
"I refuse to tolerate this disagreeable act of yours. I will make sure of your dismissal from our household immediately," she huffed.
A short silence lingered in the atmosphere before a low chuckle was heard coming from the man. Her forehead crinkled at his reaction to her malicious threat, unclear of whether it was him or her that was going insane. His fingers tapped the steering wheel lightly as his eyes carefully observed all the cars whizzing by them, a stifled smile still visible at the edge of his lips.
"I doubt that you'll be able to get rid of me," he stated coolly, full of confidence.
"Watch me."
People often profess that silence is golden, but the dead air that followed suit felt immensely suffocating. The sounds of traffic surrounded them, but the only noise that came from inside the car was their steady breathing. Even the slight shift of her body would cause the leather seat to make a low sound that seemed to pierce through her ears. Unable to handle the mere sound of herself inhaling and exhaling, she began to hinder her breathing.
When they finally arrived at her sister's lavish home, Bomi almost felt like her chest was going to burst. Right when his door closed shut, she exhaled loudly, letting the flow of oxygen back through her nose. The redness faded from her face and she cursed herself for pulling such an idiotic move.
Her door squeaked open and he leaned over her body, feeling for her seatbelt buckle. His close proximity allowed Bomi to catch a faint whiff of his shampoo—a scent in which she was able to recognize right away, for it was the only shampoo her sister ever agreed to use. She found it odd that a chauffeur could afford to use such a high-end brand, but then assumed that he probably possessed an exorbitant taste in fine products, despite his low paying profession.
Immediately proceeding the removal of the tape from her bound wrists, she forcibly pushed the man away with the sole of her foot, skittering speedily towards the front steps leading to the door. Glancing down at his perfectly ironed slacks, he groaned at the sight of the unmistakable shoe imprint on the black fabric.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, lightly dusting the mark off with his gray handkerchief.
▲▼▲
As Bomi approached the door, it slowly opened with a turn of the handle and she was greeted by a soft, winsome smile. The short-statured man bowed to her courteously, his gloved hands placed by his sides.
"Welcome home, young miss."
His tender voice instantly soothed her foregoing rage, and she had the sudden urge to envelope him in a suffocating bear hug—an urge which she failed to fight. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, the emptiness that had seized her for so long already beginning to dissipate.
"I've missed you terribly, Joonmyeon oppa," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "And don't call me that. You know I despise it."
His hand the back of her hair tenderly, glad that the texture of her hair hadn't changed one bit.
"Bad day?" he asked.
"Horrible day! Absolutely dreadful. The driver taped my wrists together and forced me to wear my seatbelt! I've never met such a detestable man in my life."
He paused for a minute. "Luhan? But that doesn't sound like him at all."
"Well, it was. And you!" Bomi pulled back sharply, crossing her arms and slanting her eyes. "I can condone if Chorong was too busy to come pick me up, but I am very disappointed in you. Even if you don't voluntarily come to welcome my return in spite of our friendship, it is your duty as the household chauffeur to fetch me from the airport. You have caused me much suffering when you left me to rot in the hands of an unprofessional, amateur driver."
"Are you sure that it's my duty to do so?"
He straightened his bow tie and turned his body so that the light hit the golden pin on his suit.
"Kim. Su. Ho," he stated, pointing at the engravings on his posh name tag.
Bomi gasped. "You've been promoted?"
He nodded, a proud smile plastered on his angelic face. Suho had been their head chauffeur for as long as Bomi could remember. Even when he was at too young of an age to serve as a driver for her family, he would complete minimal tasks around the house, which caused Bomi to become acquainted with him fairly quickly. Undeterred by his inferiority, she had unceasingly considered Suho to be the father figure in her life. There was something remarkably warm and solacing about him, and she would always seek comfort in him when life called for it.
"And you changed your name? You really hated it that much?" she questioned, evidently devastated by his decision.
"Well, of course. It wouldn't make sense if this handsome city boy had a countrified name like that, right?"
Her small mouth dolefully formed into a pout, as she swayed his hand back and forth with hers.
"Does that mean I can't address you by Joonmyeon anymore?"
He nodded in response, grinning at her childish actions. Before she could even object, a cough was heard by the door, causing the both of them to turn their heads. Suho released Bomi's hand and once again placed them at his sides to form a bow—a bow that was approximately 45 degrees lower than the one she had received when she had stepped foot into this house a couple of minutes ago.
"Welcome back, sir," Suho said, the absence of warmth in his voice taking Bomi by surprise.
"Pardon? Did you just address him by 'sir'?" she asked, directing her statement at the man that had previously violated her with a roll of polythelyne and pressure-sensitive adhesive.
"I think I failed to introduce myself, " he responded, offering her his hand. "Chorong's fiancée ... or your future brother-in-law, whatever you would like to call it. Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo."
Bomi's mouth fell agape, still trying to decipher the words that had just came from him. She returned home expecting her sister to be happily engaged to the man she loved, but the man she loved was definitely not the man standing before her. His height, physique, mannerisms—from head to toe, this man was completely different.
"How could this be?" she whispered, her eyes completely blank. "How?"
Author's Note: I'm so, so sorry for keeping all of you guys waiting for so long! I've been very busy with schoolwork and haven't found the time to write, but welp...here it is, haha. Everyone must be slightly puzzled at the way Bomi speaks, but that will be clarified in the next chapter. If you're a bothered by her speech patterns, don't worry, because it won't stay that way for too long. :)
What do you guys think of the length of this chapter, by the way? Should I shorten it up a bit? I'm scared to bore you guys with too long of a chapter, but I don't want to have too many chapters either...
Comments