He went by Shownu, but his real name was Son Hyunwoo- S.H. And Minwoo was right, he definitely wasn’t her type; she didn’t go for always smiling obnoxious strangers with psycho friends that ditched their dates in bathtubs and had the bad habit of stating the obvious, something that pissed her off to no end. It didn’t help that her first impression of him was less than satisfactory, leaving much to be desired, like, just an example, the memory of the first meeting itself. Yeah, that would have been nice. It also didn’t help that, as she mentioned before, he had an annoying knack for stating the obvious when it clearly wasn’t needed; it was both unhelpful and incredibly infuriating when coupled with that closed eyed smile of his. It didn’t help that, once they were alone together- he had helped her climb the scaffolding, insisting that it was safe and the best place to talk, despite her initial, admittedly halfhearted, protests-, his first words to her, after his short introduction, were an explanation that made her want to bang her head against a wall until she passed out.

“You were drunk.”

She wanted to hit him, so incredibly badly that it took every fiber of her being and all of her fragile and already limited self-restraint not to. Forget being obvious or oblivious; he had to be messing with her, there was no way he could be serious. Only the friendly and honest expression on his face assured her that this wasn’t a joke, he really was just that naïve.

“Thanks,” Daeun wasn’t sure what else to say; the word itself already sounded hesitant enough as it was, not that he noticed, and she didn’t want to make the uncomfortable situation even more awkward than it currently was with anymore. “Do you think you could be a little more specific?” He laughed despite the heavy attitude that coated her words and complied with the same easy going, slightly quiet nature that she was beginning to think was typical of his personality.

“Well, there was a party, and some alcohol. I was there, you were there…” Okay, now she knew he was screwing with her. If the purposefully long pauses and vague, oversimplified sentences didn’t give it away, then the lightheartedly mischievous tone of his deep voice did.

“Just get to the point already!” she snaps, unable to stop herself. He just laughs, again, as if she is the most amusing thing he’s ever seen, as if they really have been friends forever and he enjoys teasing her playfully, like this is a game they have played a thousand times before and her reaction is expected. For Shownu, it is- they are more comfortable with each other than she assumes, but he expects no less since she was piss poor drunk at the time of their bonding, or maybe it was just him. From the second he had laid eyes on her, she had caught his attention, captured his interest in a way very few people did or could. Contrary to the carefree, smiling image he was currently portraying, Shownu was a rather quiet, calm, and detached guy- it took a lot for him to care, but for some reason she just made it so easy. It was safe to say that after the night they spent together, he was completely taken with the hazardously impulsive girl that went by the name of Nam Daeun, and he was going to make sure that by the end of their little talk she would remember why and, if it wasn’t too much to ask for, return at least a slim fraction of his feelings.

“First off,” he began, face falling into a thoughtful, more casual expression. Daeun could hear the shift in his voice and straightened up her posture, listening intently to what he had to say. He held up a finger with his words as if counting, then pointed it towards her in an almost accusatory manner. “I want you to know that that was not me.” His finger was directed just below her chin, eyes glued to the side of her neck. Confusion for a brief moment, and then her own eyes widened as she remembered the still fading hickey she had discovered that morning in the bathroom mirror overshadowed by the view of the tattoo that she had caught seconds afterward. Instinctively, her hand flew up to cover the mark as it had then too, flashing him a quick glimpse of her tattoo, his gaze immediately drawn to it. At the sight, the remnants of benign mischief in his deep, dark eyes softened into something she couldn’t quite place or understand; he didn’t remove his stare as he continued.

“There was this hitting on you,” his expression momentarily hardened, as if the memory still made him angry. “You were at least tipsy by that time, and he was trying to force himself on you. I absolutely hate it when guys treat women that way, so when I saw, I was going to try and help you.” At this point, his smile turned wryly and his eyes lifted up again to meet hers, annoyance still faintly present but anger replaced with an amazement that reminded her of the cute younger male, Changkyun, and that same look she couldn’t completely decipher. “Key word: tried. By the time I had made my way over to you, you already had it covered.” A small, snorting guffaw. “You can definitely handle yourself if the way he was groaning on the floor and cussing you out is anything to go off of. He was a ert though, so he deserved it. I probably would have even done something a lot worse if you hadn’t taken care of it.”

“So you’re just a harmless good Samaritan then?” Because that didn’t explain how his initials came to be on her wrist and somehow, taking into account their surroundings, she doubted that that was truly the case.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, and she had to admit that the smirk he gave her at that moment was rather attractive, even if she was still going to stubbornly insist that he wasn’t even remotely her type on principle, because being unbelievably, impractically obstinate is simply what Daeun does.

“But that’s not the point,” he reminded her gently. “After that, we took a walk- you were essentially seething, so furious at the ert that I had to carry you out the door to stop you from murdering him,” he smiles almost fondly at the recollection, as if there was nothing strange about it. “You know,” he tells her, a curious look on his face, “for a girl with an attitude like yours, you didn’t seem all that put off by being whisked away against your will in the arms of a stranger. Do you know what the first thing you said to me was after I sat you down outside?”

She didn’t. A part of her wondered cynically if this was even a true account of events or if he was making everything up, feeding her lies on the spot. As quickly as the doubt had come though, it disappeared- there was no reason not to trust him, and he didn’t look like he was lying or being deceitful at all and she could see no signs to lead her to believe otherwise. More than that, and she couldn’t even begin to explain or comprehend why, she felt like she could trust him.

“You asked if we could get ice cream.” His dark eyes lit up- the admiration was back, as was his wide smile. Clearly, he had found her words amusing- anyone probably would if they had been placed in that situation- and at the playful mocking in his gaze and tone she, unknowingly, pouted, much like she would if it had been Minwoo saying it to her.

“So, what happened?” she asked, trying her best to divert his attention from her childishness. As much as she wanted to defend herself, deny it, blame the fact that she was drunk, she couldn’t really deny that that sounded exactly like her; she really was ridiculous with that devil-may-care attitude of hers that sometimes led to her saying the stupidest of things out loud and completely out of context, drunk or not.

“We got ice cream,” he gives her a nonchalant shrug, as if to say ‘what else?’ and she has to blink a few times to make sure he his face is still that of the fit stranger and not secretly her best friend in disguise. Who else would indulge her in her whims and put up with her odd behavior so easily, no questions asked? But this wasn’t Minwoo, this was Shownu, Son Hyunwoo, the stranger that had carried her around like a sack of potatoes and then bought her ice cream, the boy whose name was on her wrist, and she was starting to figure out that he was a rather strange guy. He hadn’t batted an eye at her weird request, nor did he when he told her that they hadn’t exactly ‘paid’ for their midnight snack- or the plastic bag full of green soju bottles she had apparently snagged while he was shifting through the freezer by the door. Apparently it had been her idea too- which didn’t surprise her; even if she hadn’t been arrested like Minwoo, she had still been a troublemaker, and the two may have snuck a few five finger discount items here and there throughout their high school career-, Shownu having walked in with the full intent of paying until he noticed her sprinting past him out the store’s automatic doors, laughing all the way as he chased her down the dark street with the startled cashier shouting at them from behind.

“You’re a pretty good runner,” he complimented her, impressed. She figured that it was supposed to mean something coming from him. “I was surprised that you could keep up with me in those heels, not to mention with how much you drank. Sometimes you were even ahead of me!” he let out a short laugh of disbelief, more a scoff than anything else, shaking his head in complete amazement. It was like Changkyun gushing over how she outran that blue haired bastard from the park again, as if it was some truly incredible feat indeed. Taking this into account, she figured that both Shownu and the boy she refused to remember the name of because she was still annoyed with him were fast, even by Runner standards, whatever those entailed or may be.

“Anyway,” he continued, lips still unturned in a soft, subtle smile, immersed in their past she couldn’t remember. “Once we got away, I took you to one of our Aid Stations- I mean, hideouts,” he corrected himself automatically, not wanting to confuse her yet with too many foreign terms and scare her away before the story was even halfway through. His mistake didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she didn’t stop him to ask questions, filing it away for later. She still didn’t know how or why her tattoo had come to be and she wasn’t going to get distracted until she knew, no matter how hard it was for her and how much her seemingly unshakable curiosity was killing her slowly inside.

“We ate ice cream and got wasted- or in your case, even more wasted- on the roof of a building not that far from here, one of our other hideouts, like I said. We talked, and you,” he paused, trailing off and letting the words hang there in the air, hazy memories and lost conversations floating and twisting like smoke in his vision. Whatever had happened, whatever she did or said, had clearly affected him, leaving its mark. When he next spoke, his voice was incredibly soft and startlingly fond, as if the recollection itself was unbelievably precious and to be treated with only the most delicate care. To think that such deep and pure emotions were directed at her, even if it was only through remembrance, made her feel both a surprising small flash warmth and extremely uncomfortable, not being used to the situation in the slightest.

“You said some things I could relate to, and I felt like we had been friends forever,” he whispered the confession into the calm, stale afternoon air. He refused to look at her- which she was more than fine with, not wanting him to notice her awkward fidgeting or the uncomfortable grimace she was sure marred her face. He didn’t elaborate any further on the matter, and Daeun had a feeling that she’d never know what she had said that struck such a cord with him; it was something only Shownu would remember, a special secret he didn’t want to taint by sharing the memory out loud, cheapening the moment by repetition and inadequate retellings that could capture it fully or accurately, could never convey its impact or the true extent of how much it had meant to him. He didn’t let the silence linger though, quickly recomposing himself and shooting her another smile- he seemed to smile a lot-, the view of the city and grey-blue sky his unfocused eyes had been staring at easily forgotten when his gaze switched to her dark brown eyes, drinking in her features with enough subtlety that someone as oblivious as her wouldn’t notice.

Left in the dark, she can only speculate on what had occurred, though she might as well give up now because who knew what the hell went through her head when she was drunk. She remembers the first time she had ever gotten smashed, the first time she ever had alcohol back in her senior year. Minwoo, the twins and her had snagged a couple bottles from Minwoo’s parents- they were the only adults they knew that actually drank- and spent the whole night taking turns chugging down the slightly bitter liquid at the old playground. Now, the twins refused to ever go drinking again with either of them, having been the two most sober that night and therefore having been the witnesses to some very unpleasant things- apparently, after a few glasses, Daeun had transformed into a poor imitation of a wise old Greek philosopher and Minwoo had become a straight up emotional wreck. The combination of the two together was the worst possible pairing, Daeun muttering some about swing sets being a metaphor for life while Minwoo got scared of all her depressing, existentialist talk and cried into his hands, crouched underneath the plastic kiddie slide in the muddy mulch, refusing to come out. Needless to say, she could only imagine what ridiculous crap she had told the shy, friendly stranger on that rooftop. In the end, i