A light-skinned hand with perfectly manicured nails grips the other end of the cup as he raises it. He notes the black heels stopped before him, attached to long legs bent at the knee as the owner squats down to grab the cup herself. His eyes follow the length of a slender arm up, up, up, until he meets the eyes of the woman nearly on her knees before him.

She smiles at him.

He freezes, staring into the unfamiliar yet still totally and completely familiar most breathtakingly deep green eyes he’s ever seen.

He bites back a gasp and glances down to collect himself, eyes fixed on the point where their fingertips almost touch at the middle of the toddler-flung projectile. Swallowing hard, he forces back the urge to scooch his fingers forward just a millimeter or two to make contact with hers. He waits a beat, then another, trying to gather himself as thoughts race through his mind too fast to fully comprehend.

“This is it, this is -- Oh, God, this is it. Do I look… how is my hair… oh, is she pretty? I think she’s pretty. She’s definitely -- it doesn’t matter if she’s… but of course she is. She has to be. Well, she doesn’t have --  How long have I been bent over like this? Oh, God, it’s been an hour. It’s been two hours. I’m an idiot. I'm going to die like this. I hope I die like this. It's been three hours. Maybe if I stay really still she'll just -- just WHAT? Be fooled into thinking I'm a statue? GET UP. I’m being an -- SAY SOMETHING, IDIOT. SAY SOMETHING. LOOK UP. SAY SOMETHING. LOOK --”

“Is this yours?” A soft voice tinged with laughter interrupts his self-flagellation.

Jong Kook lifts his head slowly, slowly, slowly, his eyes moving over a graceful neck, exposed by the elegant twist of hair at her nape. A defined jaw frames lightly-glossed lips twisted into an amused smile. Her skin is bright and clear over high cheekbones and slightly pudgy cheeks, which lend a tinge of cuteness to an otherwise classically beautiful face. One eyebrow arches questioningly, awaiting his claim to the sippy cup. Jong Kook opens his mouth to reply, but the instant his eyes meet hers, he’s transported back to the previous November, the night of Haha’s wedding, his last visit to the secluded house off the beaten path.

******

He had knocked on the door. Then knocked again. And again, shifting his weight impatiently from foot to foot, very close to bouncing up and down with tightly wound energy. His fist was raised to knock yet again when the door swung open to reveal Ji Min.

She was several inches shorter than him in her bare feet, but still managed to cast an imposing presence over him. Her dark hair was drawn up in a severe bun, not a strand out of place. She wore no makeup, as usual, though the angle of her upturned eyes gave her a dramatic look regardless.

She glanced at his hand meaningfully and he lowered his raised fist, abashed. She said nothing. Waited.

Jong Kook swallowed, took a deep breath. “I want to do it.” He nodded. “I want to do it,” he said again, more firmly.

******

"I... " His voice came out strangled. He tried again. "No, it's not mine. I drink from real cups."

He immediately cringes internally, a flush creeping up his neck. “‘I drink from real cups?’ Next are you going to tell her you cut your own food and sleep in a big boy bed? Get it together!”

She blinks, then her smile stretched more widely. “Is that so? I just started using straws last week, myself.” She gestures with the large iced tea in her free hand.

She lets go of her side of the cup and straightens up and Jong Kook follows suit gratefully, subtly stretching his aching back as he sits up in his chair. He clutches the bright plastic sippy cup tightly, pain in his pegged knee all but forgotten.

“That’s a big step. A whole new world is going to open up for you soon. Teacups, mugs, wine glasses -- you’re really on your way now.” He offers his practiced easy smile even though his insides are anything but calm.

She gives a short laugh, eyes twinkling with humor. “Well, I don’t drink alcohol, but I have been looking forward to a brandy snifter of orange juice for a while now.”

A tingle of warmth floods Jong Kook’s limbs. It’s happening. It’s really happening.

******

Ji Ji Min eyed him silently, assessing. He bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. Finally, after a long couple of moments, she stepped aside to allow him to enter the modest house. He started to head down the familiar hallway to the left, but she didn’t immediately follow. Instead, she briefly vanished behind the room dividing screen in the corner, emerging a couple of seconds later with one of the many notebooks that lined the shelf that shared the small space with her desk. She flipped through it quickly, nodded, then lead the way down the hall, Jong Kook following right behind. She abruptly stopped before entering the darkened space, causing him to run right into her back with a thud, almost knocking her off her feet.

The fortune teller turned to look at him again, looking him up and down carefully, looking for… he didn’t know what. She still hadn’t said a single word, and the Commander swallowed nervously, wondering if he was going to be pulled up short after he’d finally come to this decision. But that wasn’t to be - Ji Min apparently saw what she was looking for, turned, and swung the door open. They both entered the expansive and unsettling space that was already rolling with a light mist.

Jong Kook practically barrelled into the room, Byul’s words swirling through his head. Without her encouragement, he never would have come this far, but she was right. Why should he have to live alone forever when the woman for him was out there, existing, living her life? Yes, she did seem happy in all of the little peeks he’s taken into her life over the last year or so, but how happy could she really be if she wasn’t with him? She was meant to be with him. This is a favor for both of them.

******

“Would you like to sit?,” Jong Kook asks the woman standing in front of him, gesturing to the wide armrest-slash-table between his seat and the unoccupied one beside him. “I could use some protection.” He shakes the sippy cup.

“I would, actually.” She sets her iced tea on the armrest and turns, smoothing her black pencil skirt as she takes the seat beside Jong Kook.

He breathes deeply once, then twice, mind still whirling with disbelief. He takes a second to steady himself before turning in his seat to angle toward the woman who, from this day forward, will factor majorly into his life. His whole new life. Starting right now.

“Thanks. Whew.” She leans forward, setting her leather messenger bag-style briefcase on the ground, massaging her ankles one at a time. “Travelling in heels. What a mistake. You’ve got the right idea.” She takes in his loose black shorts, sneakers, and casual grey longsleeved shirt. “I’m really tempted to hit a gift shop for an ‘I Heart NY’ t-shirt and some ‘I Heart NY’ pajama pants and maybe a pair of ‘I Heart NY’ socks. I’m Hannah.” She settles back in her seat and sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you over this plastic cup of juice.”

Jong Kook grins, enjoying her easy attitude and friendly demeanor. He takes her hand, small in his own, and shakes it gently. “Kim Jong Kook. Jong Kook, I mean. In Korea, family names come --”

“-- first,” she finishes. “I know. I was actually born in Korea. Very nice to meet you, Kim Jong Kook.” She smiles at him over their joined hands, then looks down at them pointedly. He hastily lets go.

“You were born in Korea?” He makes of show of looking her up and down. “I hate to get this airport lounge friendship off on the wrong foot, but I’m not buying it, Hannah.”

“I didn’t say I was Korean,” she laughs. “Just that I was born there. We came back to the States a bit before I turned two.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common, then. This may shock you, but I was also born in Korea.”

Hannah grins at him brightly. “So are you on your way there now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “I’ve been in the city for a week or so, and now I’m flying to Los Angeles and then on to Seoul this evening. How about you, where are you headed?”

“I’m also going to LA. I’ve got an interview for a medical internship, I’ve got to head there as soon as we land.”

“You’re a doctor?” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting and he realizes anew that he knows absolutely nothing about this woman other than the fact that they’re going to be together forever. He fights back a near-giddy laugh, the surrealness of the situation thickening with every instant.

“No, no, I’m not a doctor yet. I’m a medical student. I have a bit of training left to go.” She smiles ruefully. “I’m hoping to get into this program at UCLA to speed the last bit of schooling and training along.”

“Ah,” he nods as if he understands. He doesn’t understand. No matter. Time enough for understanding later. Though he doesn’t quite understand how “later” is supposed to come, if she’s stopping in Los Angeles and he’s continuing through to Korea without her. He takes a sip from his bottle of water to cover his moment of introspection.

“But if all goes well, I’ll be in Korea later this year! What were you doing in New York? Anything fun? Hopefully not work.” She makes a face. “I love to get into New York whenever I can, but school keeps me leashed to the books most of the time. Tell me about your trip.” She smiles encouragingly, her rapid-fire questions conveying genuine interest in his answers, her expression open and friendly. He barely has a moment to absorb her words about heading to Korea later in the year before she continues.

“We’ve got another 45 minutes before boarding for our flight, so you may as well give in and chat with me!” She beams at him, her face suddenly appearing much younger than her professional attire belies.

He snorts internally. As if he had any intention to do anything at all for the next 45 minutes aside from sit here and talk to her.

******

Instead of heading to her customary slightly raised pedestal in the middle of the room, the fortune teller stayed close to Jong Kook, standing in front of him and flipping through the pages of the notebook she brought along, it’s soft leather cover fal