Hyomin's POV.

Greek myths and legends, I'd studied them. I'd drawn the parallels with feelings and behaviour and all the dilemmas and challenges people face today. But elves and goblins, complicated labyrinthine worlds where dragons speak and quests are embarked on? I'd never taken them seriously. I knew it was strange, given my alienation from a world full of social networks and fashion magazines and cliques, that I hadn't lost myself in these worlds, loved them and believed in them -- but I hadn't. My dad always said I was born seeing black and white and nothing in between, but I didn't think that was true. I guess deep down, I never dared believe that magic existed. Until the day Dad ended up in the hospital.

I picked up the box of cereal I'd been staring at for five minutes and added it to my basket. I checked Mum's list

Soap, dog food and a copy of the local newpaper.

I found the soap further along. Unperfumed. Typical of my mother.

Then I moved up the second aisle in our cramped little grocer's, picking up two tins of fancy dog food. Again, typical. Bobby was the only recipient of luxury in our family.

The papers and magazines were kept in front of the counter and as I headed towards them I could see the headline of the The Seoul Times. You couldn't miss it.

WHERE DID THE MYSTERIOUS HERO GO?

I took a sharp breath, frowning. I couldn't think about this any more.

Him.

Nearly a month passed since the accident. I'd spent weeks going over every detail, and I still couldn't make sense of it. I'd just stayed in my room, reading old historical romances of my mother's and moping about with Hwayoung.

The whole family was in shock as Dad convalesced at home, slow and fragile. He was getting better now, but it had shaken us all up. My mother had stopped going on about sending me to school, at least. But she seemed permanently stressed, snapping at me and Hwayoung over the slightest thing, telling us to get out from under her feet.

But I didn't want to go anywhere. My dreams had stopped. Jaejoong had gone. And though I should have been relaxed, all I felt was let down. Crazy. I didn't know him.

Taking a copy of the paper and dumping my basket on the counter, I nodded at the boy working the till. He'd been at my school, a couple of years above me. Yoseob. One of the few people at Seoul Academy who hadn't bothered to torment me. He was nice enough ... maybe a little dim.

Yoseob glanced up at me once and started adding up the items. When he got to the Seoul Times he paused, taking in the headline.

"So cool," he said, looking up at me. "That guy. Like some kind of superhero."

"Superhores don't exist," I said witheringly, grabbing the paper and stuffing it in my rucksack. "They're for little boys."

Yoseob straightened up. "I know that," he said defensively. "It's just, you know, pretty weird how he was kind of "wandering around" a mountain road." He put the rest of the stuff into a plastic bag. "You have to admit it."

I shrugged. "No, I don't." I took the bag from him and handed him the money. As he counted out the change, he kept looking up at me. I put the money in my purse and smiled tightly at him.

"Hey?" He said, recognition finally coming. "You're Park Hyomin!" He banged his hand triumphantly on the counter.

I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again he'd have disappeared. But he was still there.

"Park Hyomin ... " He jiggled about on the spot. "You're the girl from the accident."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd just shut up," I said coldly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hyomin -- Park Hyomin," he chanted, before his eye caught something behind me and he stopped.

"She told you to shut up," said a voice I vaguely recognised. "So do it, moron."

There was silence as I turned to take in my rescuer. Tall, brown hair, smiling at me now, tiny little creases around brown eyes. I swallowed, realising once again that I wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion.

"Hi Joon," I said, willing my face not to burst into flames. "It's okay. I can handle it."

Joon moved swiftly and confidently towards me and reached out his hand.

"Let me take that," he said, grabbing the plastic bag. "And that," he slipped my rucksack off my shoulder. "You must be a little shaken up still ... after what happened."

"I don't --" I started, as he pushed a stray curl off my face and tucked it behind my ear.

"I know," he said softly. "You don't want to talk about it."

I nodded, all the feisty draining out of me.

"I'll give you a lift back home."

"It's okay. I've got my bike."

"And I've got a car." He opened the door to let me through. "So I win."

Joon drove slowly up back to the house. I hadn't said a word walking to his car, and now that I was sitting in the front seat next to him, I just concentrated on not looking at him. I didn't look at his long, muscular legs, I didn't look at his strong, steady hands gripping the steering wheel. I definitely didn't look at his perfect straight nose and his streaked, messy hair. But I didn't have to -- I had committed every part of him to memory in the entire half-hour I'd spent in his company since we'd met.

I stared ahead of me as we pulled off the main road and focused on keeping my heart rate down. I should have been asking questions. Making conversation, something like, "Hey, I hear you ran away and lived like a vagrant for six months and caused your family no end of heartache and worry," But i couldn't. His physical presence made me shyer than ever.

It was a little like avoiding the elephant in the room.

"You ever play pool?" asked Joon eventually.

"Pool?" I shook my head. "There's nowhere you can play pool here. Not for miles."

"I know a place." He glanced at me. "It's a way out of here, but it's a good place to hang out." I nodded, both hoping and dreading that his next question would be "Want to come sometime?"

When nothing came I stared out of the passenger window and studied the roadside bushes. Joon changed gear as we began the ascent up the mountain road and my heart beat more quickly. In a couple of minute we'd be there, where that thing had forced Dad off the road.

I felt Joon's eyes on me. "You okay?" he asked softly.

I exhaled, determined not to see the crushed fence on the other side of the road. "I'm fine." I smiled at him.

"Really?" Through the trees I could see the lights on in our house a mile or so up. "You can drop me where the rough track begins. I can walk from there."

"Whatever you want. But I'd be happy to take you all the way."

"No need." I started gathering up my bags. "If you could help me get the bike out ..."

As Joon shut the boot of his car, I stood awkwardly holding my bike, rucksack on one shoulder, the other hand swinging my bag like a silly little girl.

He pushed his hands through his hair, then stuck them in his jeans pockets, his eyes on me.

"You make me nervous, Hyomin." He said, grinning. "And I never get nervous."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I like that you're serious. You know, not shallow like a lot of girls. You don't talk just to fill a silence." He paused. "But that does make it more difficult to ask you to come out with me. You know, on a date, because ... I have no idea what you think of me." And even in the dark I could see he was holding his breath.

I smiled, shivering slightly, though it definitely wasn't the cold.

"That would be nice," was all I could come out with.

"That's a yes?"

"It's a yes." I looked back up at the house. "But I really have to go."

"That's cool." He stepped towards me and, before I could think about it, leaned down to kiss my cheek. I felt the stubble on his chin and his hair brushing against my face. "Tomorrow night?"

"Okay." I said, dazed. "Tomorrow night."

"Great. I'll pick you up."

"No," I said quickly, thinking of the sheer excruciation. "I'll meet you in the town."

He grinned. "Of course. Outside the old petrol station at six? We can take it from there."

"Fine," I waved the shopping at him again. "See you at six."

I watched as his car reversed away and turned to go down the mountain road towards the town. When I finally resumed walking up the track to our house, I couldn't keep the goofy smile off my face. I slung my rucksack and the shopping over the handlebars of my bike and trudged forwards in a daze.

Narrator's POV.

A rustling in the bushes halted her, making Hyomin turn to the side of the track.

"Who's there?" She said loudly.

"Hyomin." A voice came from her left, low but intense. She caught her breath and stopped, squinting in the half-light, already knowing who the voice belonged to.

A shape emerged from the long foliage by the track. A dark coat, brown eyes. She lost her grip on the bike and it crashed on the ground, two tins of dog food rolling into the undergrowth.

"You?" She said, trying to catch her breath. "You come back."

He looked weary, the dark shadows accentuated by his white skin. He moved slowly towards her.

"I came to explain." He his lips, and she saw his eyes were hooded, evasive.

Hyomin put out her hand to touch him and, though he kept his own hands by his side, he smiled. "Your father -- he's okay?"

She nodded. "What happened to you that night? Why did you send me away?"

"Long story." He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his eyes, then looked back down the track. "Can we walk somewhere? Just for a bit."

She glanced at her bike on the ground then back at him. He bent and picked up the dog food from where it had rolled, examining the labels. "Mr Chow's Chow Time," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Hyomin snatched the tins from him,  twitching. "Dogs. No class."

He watched as she stuffed the tins back into the plastic bag.

"There's a path around the hill." She indicated a small opening in the trees across the track. "But I have to be back in twenty minutes or Hwayoung will start fretting."

"Ah, Hwayoung." Jaejoong smiled. "She's very protective of you."

She frowned. "How do you know that?" She said sharply. "Have you been spying on us?"

"No." He laughed. "I'm just ... perceptive."

"Hmm." Hyomin walked over to her bike and dropped the shopping down next to it. "Come on, let's walk."

Jaejoong and her trod without speaking along the damp path that circled their side of the mountain. She came here a lot in the summer, with the dog, and sometimes with Hwayoung. When the sun was out the view down to the small town and the surrounding landscape was spectacular. It was a peaceful place.

"So," she said eventually. "Explain to me why you've suddenly appeared in my life?" She glanced at him. "In my waking life ... because those dreams have stopped."

Jaejoong stopped and walked to the edge of the path, looking down at the trees. He cleared his throat.

"Remember what I told you before ... About stretching the bound ---"

"The boundaries of my reality," She finished for him, "Yes. I remember."

"Well ..." He hesitated. "This is going to sound ... fantastical. But imagine that there is a place like this where ... living things, beings with hearts and minds and ... longings ... exist." He tried to smile. "Where somebody like you grows up feeling as though they don't fit in with everyone else. Like there is a part of them missing. And even though they know they should stay where they are, be happy without that missing part, they can't. They are only aware of that empty space."

Hyomin stared at him. Flashes of her childhood. Of the birthday parties, year after year, where local kids had come under duress, because she didn't know how to play with them, of the times she had hidden when relatives visited. Of the need she had always had to sit, reading, thinking by herself. None of the people around her understood her and she wanted to be understood. Hyomin loved Hwayoung more than anything, but she didn't understand.

"I can imagine that," she said, holding his gaze, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't she focused on something esle he'd said.

"You said "living things","

He took a deep breath before answering. "I am human, in most ways," he said finally. "Except I can live forever if I want to."

"My God." She stared at him and then her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me, you're really two hundred years old?"

"No." He grinned now. "I'm seventeen. But I will stop ageing when I reach fifty."

"Seriously?" She wrapped her arms around herself, dumbfounded, and examined Jaejoong's face. Not a hint of smile. "You're not kidding, are you?"

He shook his head.

Hyomin breathed out heavily. "So ... where do I come into all this?"

"You're the one," Jaejoong said simply. "The one I've had in my dreams for a long time. My missing part."

She stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh. Whether this was some kind of surreal joke. But at the back of her mind she felt recognition too. She know she did. It was just she couldn't articulate that. Because it didn't make sense. Yet.

"God. I'm flattered and everything, but ---"

"And I am your missing part," Jaejoong interrupted her. "Hence ... your dreams."

She frowned a little. "You mean, even though I didn't know you existed, I have been missing you?"

"Yes. I'm sure of it."

Hyomin shivered. "Let's keep walking. There's a clearing a few metres ahead and a little bench. My dad made it."

They continued until they reached a circular patch, clear of trees and bushes, where Hyomin father's carved bench nestled back against the wood. She sat down and, after a pause, Jaejoong joined her. She rubbed her hands together, not looking at him.

"So. What you're saying is kind of ... insane."

He laughed and his face lit up. Lovely brown eyes shining in the dimming light. "I know." He turned his face up to the sky. "But where I come from, we have the dubious privilege of pursuing the insane. We know no real boundaries -- though we are advised not to exploit that."

A heavy movement behind them made her jump. Jaejoong put his hand on her arm, reassuring. "It's an owl," he said calmly. "Nothing to be frightened of." And then there it was, the soft call of an owl behind them. Hyomin relaxed.

"How did you know I need help." she asked quietly. "that day?"

"I just knew," was all he said, not meeting her eyes.

She rubbed at her knees."I'm not going to ask why you sent me away-- from the waiting room." She paused. "I thought I heard --"

"It's complicated," Jaejoong cut in. "I wish I could tell you in some way that wouldn't freak you out, but you need to trust me first ..." He trailed off.

Hyomin continued looking down at her legs. And they sat for a minute or two, not speaking.

"I've got something for you." He rummaged in his pocket, drawing out a battered-looking notebook. "A long time ago I went to my favorite place in the whole world and ..." He paused for some reason, as though thinking out his next sentence. "Well, let's just say I found, burried under some rocks by a river we call the Water Path, a book." He held out the notebook." This book."

She took it from him, turning it over in her hands. It was covered in faded pencil sketches, ethereal, abstract loops and curls. She looked at Jaejoong questioningly.

"Whoever wrote in this book was going through some awful turmoil. They were in love, but something had gone wrong. Or got in the way. The bond was breaking." He stopped for a moment. "If you read it, you'll see." He touched her arm. "I want you to keep it."

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because something about this book has led me to you, Hyomin. I don't know how, but I know it is connected with you, and me."

She frowned, but she too had the strangest sensation as she hold the journal. The same feeling she had when Jaejoong touched her. A feeling of warmth and safety, of home.

"Okay." She slipped the book into her coat pocket, remembering the shopping and that she was late. "I have to get back ... My mother will be worried."

He smiled. "Of course. But I will see you again soon."

"I hope so," She said, meaning it. Hyomin got up from the bench and started down the path. She glanced back to see Jaejoong still seated. "You're staying here?"

"Yes. I'll get home from here," he said. "But I'll come again ... tomorrow, or ..."

She remembered Joon. "Oh ... tomorrow ... I have a thing." She said awkwardly.

"Right," he said, getting up to stand, his back to the wood. "We'll find a way."

And as he slowly moved backwards towards the trees, he seemed to merge into them. And then suddenly he was gone, leaving her to make her way home.

When she got back to her bike and her mother's shopping, Hyomin slipped the notebook into the pocket of her hoodie before picking the bike up and continued up the track to the house.

If it hadn't been for the weight of Jaejoong's present in her pocket, she still wouldn't have believed he existed. But not only did she know this for sure, Hyomin also knew that when she was with him, she felt more real than she'd ever felt in her life.

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It's getting pretty long, so i'll continue in the next chapter :B

So, question time.

Who do you guise support? JaejoongxHyomin or JoonxHyomin? >:D

Comment below! ♥