Trauma does certain things to people: it seeps through the crevices and cracks of their exterior, and creeps towards their soul and render them helpless in the face of panic and anxiety.

It makes even the strongest of people waver, sending them to their knees as they struggle to fight against the onslaught of fear.

I don’t like to be afraid.

I can be many negative things, like being clumsy or too trusting or talkative, but afraid? Never. Fear ruins a person slowly, from the inside, and I want to be so strong that I won’t be broken down so easily by my past.

Besides, a hero – a savior – will not let herself be afraid.

I am not the princess hiding in her ivory tower.

I slay my own goddamn dragons.

“Into the darkness they go, the wise and lovely...”

Sun Young sang to herself as she skipped on the stone paths, her shoes making soft thuds on the ground as she let the cool air whizz against her face.

“Brave hearts fighting against the storm with chivalry…”

Dashing down the corner of the gardens, she sped up as she saw the maze ahead, and she threw back her head, letting her hair fall behind her shoulders.

Eomma won’t be pleased, she thought, holding up the bottle of soju in her hands. She’s going to nag at me again if she knows I drank alcohol.

Thank god she’s preoccupied with one of the cooks, she didn’t see me sneak out.

“Until then,” she paused, glancing down at the bottle with a little smirk, “You and I will be very good friends.”

Reaching the front of the maze, she slowed to a stop, catching her breath as she stared up at the dark hedges.

After this, there would be no turning back. There was a possibility that she might get a little too tipsy and lose her sense of direction as she tried to escape the maze, but generally, she was confident enough she would be fine. It usually took more than a bottle to get her drunk anyway.

Unlike the rest of the gardens, the maze was not lit, and stood out like a dark, ominous abyss, with the only light coming from the center of it, where the stone pavilion was.

Sun Young took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as she allowed herself to relax. There was something tense in her shoulders that seemed to ebb away as the shadows embraced her, feeling like they were welcoming her into their arms.

She needed to hide away for a while, to be alone with her thoughts and insecurities, and this was the perfect distraction.

A shiver rippled through her whole body, shuddering down her spine, to her fingertips, right down to her toes. There was something about the way the maze looked at night, and she wondered if she should ask Amber to come along, because she could use someone to give her a sense of perspective.

But it was late and too bothersome to turn back.

And she knew her friends were tired. They were probably getting ready for bed too.

Sun Young stepped into the maze, humming to herself as she followed the path. She was familiar with its layout, but never had she gone in at this time; the latest was always around sunset when Eomma finished her day shift. People were out and about, and there were the faraway sounds of the city.

But now, the only things she could hear were the crickets, and the sounds of her shoes on the grass. Silence filled everything else.

She looked up at the sky as she made her way to the middle, seeing the splash of constellations filling up the blanket of wispy clouds.

Her heart was heavy in her chest.

One time, when I was in preschool, my father once stuck glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, knowing how much I loved the night sky.

When Eomma turned off the lights that night as she tucked me into bed, the stars shone over me.

It was one of the best surprises I had, and even though he’s gone, and some of the stickers have dropped from the ceiling, there’s a few that still remain.

Sun Young swallowed the lump in , letting out a sigh as she walked.

I have to stop thinking of all the bad things in my life. It’s not healthy.

Just then, the sound of a twig snapping made her gasp.

She whirled around, her gaze searching for the source of the sound.

The length of the path behind her was empty.

She clutched her chest, breathing heavily, and resumed her journey to the stone pavilion, quickening the pace as she walked. Something at the back of her mind felt like someone was watching her.

As she turned around the last corner, light fell upon her face, and she let out a sigh of relief as she walked into the clearing, seeing the old pavilion in the centre, as though it had been waiting for her to arrive.

At least, it felt like it, but she must have been wrong because at the opposite end of the clearing was Park Chanyeol, leaning against the hedge with his hands over his chest and a disapproving expression on his face.

“Did you know that you can be penalized if you get drunk on the premises of the hotel?” he asked, and Sun Young’s lips parted in surprise, staring back at him for a few moments as thoughts ricocheted in her brain.

How did he know I was holding alcohol?

Wait, scratch that, how did he know I was coming here?

Wasn’t he with Baekhyun? What is he doing here now?

Did he follow me in?

Heol…was he STALKING me?

The sound just now, it had got to be him.

Oh my god.

“Well,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too affected by his presence, slowly taking a step back, “Maybe I should, like, go and come back another time…”

She didn’t know how he did it, but it felt as though he had crossed the three metres or so between them in a blink of an eye, because when she next looked at him he was in front of her, his hand around hers, the one holding the soju bottle.

“Huh,” he only said, raising her hand and looking at the bottle in it, “At least I know you didn’t filch one of the expensive wines. Did you take this and run from the restaurant?”

She was still recovering from his presence in front of her; her heart was beating erratically in her chest, her breathing irregular, and she held on tightly to the soju as she put an annoyed expression on her face.

“I actually bought it from Myeongdeong earlier,” she said, as he let her go, “So it’s wholly mine.”

Chanyeol ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh. “What do you think PD Kim is going to do if she sees you in a hangover tomorrow morning?”

“It won’t get to that point,” she rebutted, “It’s only one bottle. And I can handle it pretty well, I mean, it’s just one bottle.”

As if repeating it would make it less of a fact.

The hotel director stared at her for a long time. “Does your mother know about this?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a fully grown adult!”

“I’m taking that as a no.”

“You know what, do what you want. Nag at me, I don’t care.”

“Great, so you won’t mind sharing,” he returned.

Wait, what?

“Why would I share it?” she asked incredulously, “With you, of all people?”

He shrugged. “Because courtesy demands it. You don’t expect to drink it all by yourself when there is someone else sharing this sacred place with you?”

Sacred place. Yoora had mentioned that the pavilion was left untouched when the hotel was first built.

Chanyeol was looking at her expectantly, his expression smug.

She pushed past him. “Fine,” she muttered, walking towards the stone pavilion and plopping onto the steps. She reached into her pocket, taking out the shot glass she had secretly taken from the restaurant, and let out a huff before offering it to the director. “Here. That was supposed to be for me, but well…”

Chanyeol walked over, taking the glass from her hand and sitting down next to her.

Sun Young scooted to the side slightly, momentarily jolted by the close proximity between her bodies. She reached into her pocket to take the bottle opener – also taken from the restaurant – and proceeded to open the bottle, before pouring into the glass he was holding.

He was quiet, watching her, and she gave him a fleeting glance as she clinked her bottle against his glass. “Cheers,” she said, tilting the bottle over , careful not to let her lips touch the mouth of the bottle.

He nodded, drinking the glass in one gulp.

They exhaled, the liquid bubbling down their throats and leaving a sizzling sensation.

Sun Young turned to him, pouring more soju into his glass. “You can’t have too much,” she said, gesturing to his glass, “You probably had some fancy champagne upstairs.”

“Wine,” he corrected her.

“Whatever.”

“Wine and champagne aren’t the same,” he said.

She drank more soju. “Whatever,” she said again, letting out a hiccup, “It’s still alcohol.”

“But-”

“Can you stop trying to argue with me?” she interjected, rolling her eyes, “I didn’t come all this way to fight with you.”

Chanyeol became quiet, and Sun Young let out another hiccup.

“What did you come here for?” he asked then.

Sun Young didn’t answer him, not at first. She held her breath – because that was Eomma used to say when she got hiccups – and when she was certain she was going to be fine did she answer him.

“I came to find my peace,” she murmured, pouring some more soju for him, “So let me have it, I beg you.”

“Okay.”

She glanced at him, placing her hand over her heart. “Thank you,” he said, drinking her soju.

Her surroundings became fuzzy in her vision, and she let out a sigh, knowing she was already tipsy already. She rested her chin on one hand, putting the bottle on the step between them.

This was where she wanted to be, not sober but not too drunk either. Her body seemed to relax, the knots in her muscles eased now that her thoughts were not constantly on her nerves.

“Sun Young?”

My head feels heavy, she thought, swaying slightly as she turned to him. “What?” she murmured, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

Why are there three Chanyeols?

Oh man.

Chanyeol knew something was wrong when Sun Young was staring at him for too long.

Her eyes seemed too faraway and glassy as they stared at him, and he took the opportunity to stare back, taking in her features as she shut her eyes.

Oh, she was definitely not sover.

Huh. So much for handling her liquor well.

She let out a sigh. “I’m not drunk, you know,” she slurred softly, opening her eyes, “I’m just really tired.”

He felt his cheeks heat up. “I can tell.”

She smiled slightly. “How was the dinner? With Kyungri?”

“It was good.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

She lifted her head from her hand and ran her fingers through her hair. “Was it fun? What did you talk about? Do you like her?”

“Yes it was fun. It was meaningful too, I suppose. We talked about ourselves a lot,” he replied, leaning back.

“Do you like her?” she asked again.

He resisted the urge to be flustered as he raised an eyebrow. “You sound like a jealous ex-girlfriend,” he commented, “You know, the type who wants the guy to be happy with someone else but at the same time not.”

She took a swig. “That’s more like Ju Hyun, not me.”

Chanyeol immediately stiffened. “What did you say?”

Sun Young peered at him, her eyebrows furrowing. “Ju Hyun. She’s more like the jealous ex-girlfriend, isn’t she?” she asked, making him shudder, “Wait. About that. She said she wants to make you regret rejecting her.”

He recalled the memory of seeing her once at the restaurant, the same day he had the incident with the hotel revolver doors with Sun Young.

Sun Young must have had sharp eyes, because he caught her snickering as she slapped her hand against her thigh. “You rejected Ju Hyun…why? How?”

“I did it over dinner.”

She snorted, and the sound sounded like a wheeze, and for a moment he wanted to do the same.

After all, it was funny, how Ju Hyun had sort of assumed that they were about to be betrothed. He could still remember how happy she looked, and how easily he could have used it to his advantage if he hadn’t told her straight up that he wasn’t interested in settling down.

He stared at Sun Young as she sighed to herself, looking away slightly when she turned her gaze back to him. “Was it the same, your dinner with her?” she asked, “Like Kyungri and you?”

He shook his head vehemently. “It was very different,” he said, the dread in his voice all too obvious, “My mother was literally preparing for my engagement that night. And right after that fiasco at the front doors with you and your stupid flowers.”

“Hey! They’re not stupid!”

“Would you rather say you were stupid?” he couldn’t help but ask, if only to .

And while he was expecting her to protest, she merely shook her head. “That’s not fair,” she grumbled, “It was an accident.”

“No use complaining about it,” he muttered, reaching for her soju bottle and pouring some into his glass, “But back to Ju Hyun…between you and me, it’s not an ideal situation seeing her now, after what happened, I try to put it behind me.”

She didn’t even protest as he returned it to her. “I don’t know how you can even sit next to her at meals if there’s that awkwardness between you,” she said, chuckling, “Did you know…I don’t know if I should tell you this, though.”

He leaned closer. “Tell me.”

Sun Young grinned. “But it would be too much temptation to leave you in suspense,” she commented, “And I love making you annoyed, so good night.”

“Miss Park,” he warned, as Sun Young got up.

Don’t go, was what he wanted to say but didn’t.

“I should head back to the West Wing,” she said with a shrug, taking the glass from his hand. She placed the bottle to her lips, downing the last of its contents, “Just in time too, the alcohol’s finished.”

Chanyeol watched her walk a few steps before stumbling.

He got to his feet to reach out, but she managed to catch her balance before she fell, and he heard her laugh at herself through her stupor.

He frowned. “How will you even find a way out when you can’t even walk straight?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead.

She waved away his question dismissively. “I can make it,” she said, giving him a last glance. “The question is,” she drawled, turning into the maze, “can you?”

Chanyeol was about to hurry after her, if only to ensure she wasn’t lost, but then he realized, somewhere along the line, he had discarded his jacket, and ed the first few buttons of his white shirt.

He turned, running back to the pavilion to grab his blazer, and hurried into the maze. “Wait,” he called, hearing only her laughter up ahead.

A part of him was puzzled, but not just because he had even forgotten he had taken off his blazer; he was more annoyed that his physical appearance didn’t seem to make Sun Young bat an eyelid even in her tipsy state.

He had always heard how people got really touchy when they were drunk, and he had half expected Sun Young to comment on how she secretly found him attractive.

So when she didn’t show any sign of checking him out as much as he was checking her out, it stung, more than he had thought it would.

This girl is weird, he thought, throwing his blazer over himself. She’s different from a lot of other girls.

“Where are you?” he called out, turning right, “Miss Park, you better not get yourself lost in the maze.”

From somewhere close by, he could hear her voice. “I’m not lost, stop saying that!” she protested.

He turned left, seeing no one. “Then why do you sound like you’re-”

He paused.

Did I make the right turn?

Or should I have made a right just now?

Wait, was I even supposed to make a turn or go straight?

His heart began to pound.

I’m not lost.

I just made the wrong turn.

I have to retrace my steps, back to the fork in the path.

He heard a giggle, and turned around to see Sun Young leaning against the hedge.

“You dummy,” she said with a shake of her head, “It’s obvious you haven’t been here in some time.”

“I’m on the right path,” he blurted impulsively.

“If that’s what you think,” she singsonged, turning away, “But if you want the way out, you know who to follow.”

She then proceeded to disappear again, and he rushed after her, reaching out and taking her arm.

“Hey-” she began, when he placed her hand in the pocket of his blazer.

“Don’t ditch me,” he said, when she gave him a confused look, “I’m guaranteeing you won’t run off and start trolling me.”

Sun Young threw her head back and laughed. “You’re such a dork, Park Chanyeol,” she told him, leading him quickly through the maze, “It isn’t even that far, and here you are, panicking.”

If it wasn’t for the slight sway in her step, or the wide grins on her face, he would have thought she was not even the least bit tipsy.

They turned, and true enough, the exit out of the maze was right ahead.

She scoffed as she turned to him. “It’s weird that you’re the same person who looks so professional and chic. You can be really dumb sometimes.”

“You’d never say that to my face if you were sober.”

“Nope,” she agreed, grinning mischievously, and stumbled again.

This time, Chanyeol thanked his lucky stars that he was there.

His long arms wound around her frame in a flash, stopping her from falling backwards.

“Sorry,” she chuckled, looking up at him, “I walked a lot earlier at Myeongdeong. My legs tend to trip when I’m too tired to walk properly.”

He stared at her; from this position up close, her perfume was a warm cloud wrapping itself around him, and her eyes were literally hypnotizing him, the way they stood out.

The smile froze on her face. “You can let go of me.”

This was the part where he should have listened.

But the only thing that had suddenly taken over his mind was something that had never seemed to cross his mind before.

He wondered – and it was something that shocked his own self as well – what it would be like, what it would feel like, to kiss Park Sun Young.

It was a crazy thought, one that knocked him out of his senses and yet kept him rooted there at the same time.

She was looking up at him, the dim light doing no justice to her rosy face, and the thought had taken over his senses out of the blue, he wasn’t even aware he was closing the distance between them.

“Chanyeol,” she suddenly breathed, the smell of alcohol in her breath, and he stared at her, momentarily unsure.

She just said his name, so softly, without the bloody honorifics.

It sounded so addictive; what would it feel like to hear it again?

He felt the fringes of their hair caress against each other, and he stopped short, holding his breath.

“Am I…” he began, his blood rushing in his ears as he wildly thought of something to say, “Is this…okay?”

She was still in his arms, not frozen, not resistant, just…still, looking up at him like she didn’t trust herself to answer.

He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but as he leaned closer, her eyes fluttered shut expectantly.

His hand came up, framing the side of her face, where her jaw met her neck.

She let out a soft gasp, surprised by his touch.

And it was then when he thought to himself, now or never.

He closed the distance between their lips, pressing his against hers.

They were drunk anyway, he thought, his hand around her waist pulling her closer.

He felt Sun Young’s hand reach for his arm as he dipped her backwards, and he pulled back slightly, just to look at her in the dimness of the maze.

He placed his forehead against hers, and their noses touched.

The moment was perfect, and little did he know that in a few moments, Sun Young would simultaneously break his heart and make it whole again.

“I waited so long, where were you, huh?” Baekhyun yelled, seeing his friend walk out of the elevator. He reached for a cushion from the sofa, tossing it at his friend, “Here I was, thinking we were going to have a chat, but- wait, are you drunk? You smell like soju.”

He gave his friend a second glance, seeing how the latter was shuffling towards his desk, and came closer, his feet encased in large fluffy slippers that he had bought for Chanyeol but weren’t used. “Are you alright, bro?”

Chanyeol had his hands over his face. His shoulders were shaking, and Baekyun reached for his friend’s hands, peeling them off his face.

He was laughing so much, his shoulders were shaking.

He was crying too, as evident from the tears rolling down his face.

Baekhyun made a face. “What the hell happened to you, did you hit something?” he asked, touching the reddish part near his friend’s lips, “Is this a bruise- wait, no, it comes off.”

Chanyeol let his face fall to the table, half-wailing, half-groaning. “It’s not a bruise,” he murmured, voice muffled by his arm.

Baekhyun stared at the red smear that had transferred to his hand, and realization dawned onto his face as he leaned forwards.

“Isn’t this…lipstick?” he asked slowly, looking from his hand to his friend, “Did you just…kiss someone?”

Through the unexplainable sounds Chanyeol was making, there was something that sounded vaguely like a yes.

Baekhyun’s jaw dropped. “Well, ,” he said simply, “I can’t believe this.”

A few moments passed as he stood there in his bathrobe, blinking at the sight of his friend, his eyes flitting from the smear of burgundy on his finger to his friend.

“I need to sit down,” he said, fanning himself as he pulled the swivel chair, falling into it and leaning forwards.

“Was she a good kisser?”

Chanyeol’s head resurfaced, showing his ravaged face. “I don’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone before!” he wailed, swiping away his tears, “What am I supposed to do anyway?”

“That’s beside the point, bro. You kissed a girl!” he squealed, slamming the desk victoriously and letting out a whoop. “CHAN KISSED A GIRL AND HE – wait, did you like it?”

Chanyeol covered his face again. “I don’t know!”

“CHAN KISSED A GIRL, AND HE LIKED IT!”

His friend groaned, clutching his head, and buried his face into his arm whi