It’s the same dream again.

She could hear his heavy breathing and his fast-paced footsteps. She could feel his heart pounding hard against his ribcage as if it were her own. She could sense the wet sensation of his sweat trickling down his temples. It felt so real that she could hardly believe it was only a dream and she only saw what he saw.

However, as usual, everything was blurry. And extremely choppy.

Besides the facts that he was running and, based on how her view was shifted from the front to the back so frequently, he was being chased by some people, she knew nothing else. She didn’t know where he was and she couldn’t see the faces of the people who were with him. There’s only one explanation to that.

“Don’t worry too much,” her mother said when she told her about her dream after she woke up. “It must be because he’s living overseas at the moment. Both of you are fated to be together. He’ll be right beside you before you know it.”

Everyone was born with a soulmate. At least, that’s what her parents had been telling her repeatedly since she’s born. They were soulmates themselves, so they strongly believed that. She also believed in soulmates, but since now that she was twenty five and she didn’t know anything about him besides that he’s always running, she started losing her hopes in finding him.

Normally, people around her age would have found their soulmate already. Her friends were busy preparing their wedding while she still had no idea which city or country he lived in. She envied her friends who had dreams about their soulmate having a drink in a restaurant at Myeongdong, playing basketball near Han River, busking in Hongdae, and so on.

It was easy for them to find their soulmate if their dream actually showed the place. The dream was about their soulmate’s future that would happen on the same day, so if they went to the place they’d seen in their dream, they would most likely encounter their soulmate.

In Han Yeji’s case, however, it’s always about him running, whether it’s him chasing someone or him being chased. As if it wasn’t bad enough, everything was always blurry and choppy. Her mother had told her that if her vision was blurry, it meant that she hadn’t been to the place – or hadn’t seen it at least in photos and videos – so she wouldn’t know how it looked like and she hadn’t met the people he met so she wouldn’t know their faces.

Yeji munched on her toast, her voice barely comprehensible. “What if he’s on the opposite side of the world?”

“Stop talking while eating!” Her mother flicked her forehead, causing her to groan in pain, and then said dramatically, “Fate will bring you two together. Just like how it brought your father and me together.”

Rolling her eyes, Yeji scoffed. “But I’ve been dreaming the same thing for three years already. I don’t even know if he’s planning to go here soon. I don’t want to get married at forty. What if he’s never been to Seoul before? Then we’ll just be pointlessly dreaming blurry dreams.”

Everyone had varying start time of the dream about their soulmate. Some of her friends had been dreaming about ten years and some others had only started dreaming last year. For Yeji, the dreams had begun three years ago. It didn’t make any differences, though. Her friend who had her first dream last year was now dating her soulmate already while she was nowhere near in finding hers. You could never tell.

Yeji’s mother clucked her tongue. “Don’t say that. If you don’t have the answer, then he’ll have it. He’s your soulmate. Can’t you trust him a little?”

“How can I trust someone I’ve never met before?” Yeji got up from her seat at the dining table as she felt her phone vibrate inside her pocket. She snatched her bag and violin case on the couch and headed to the front door. “I’m off to work! Bye, Mom!”

“Be careful! Don’t stay out late!”

As soon as she closed her front door, Yeji took out her phone from her pocket and, without looking at the screen, answered fondly, a smile slowly forming on her face, “Hey.”

“I’m here,” he announced, rather excitedly. “Come on out!”

She chuckled happily while locking the gate to her house. “Coming.”

“Quick! I miss you.” He said the last three words so gently that Yeji could feel her heart flutter.

Yeji was practically half-running when she spotted him, leaning against his car, a few blocks away from her house. His face broke into a smile as his gaze landed on her. He stretched out his arms, asking for a hug, which she gladly gave to him. She raced over to him and threw herself into his arms.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed his warmth until she wrapped her arms around his back. Resting her head on his chest, she felt content and comfortable. He was all she needed to make her feel better.

“I miss you too, Seongwoo,” Yeji said softly, responding to his words on the phone call earlier, snuggling up close to him. “A lot.”

They hadn’t had a chance to meet up during the summer holiday – they were teachers so they also had the same holiday as the students – and although it’s only a little more than a month, it seemed like eternity for them.

Seongwoo let out a light giggle as he ruffled Yeji’s hair lovingly. “I love you so much, Yeji. What should I do?”

Yeji lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, grinning widely. “I love you more, Seongwoo. Let’s just stay like this forever, okay?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Tweety?” Seongwoo arched an eyebrow, teasing her with his nickname for her, which she hated the most. “Were you planning to leave me?”

Seongwoo had been calling her Tweety since their first meeting. They were working as teachers in YMC – Yang Music Courses – and that time, he’d accidentally entered a studio where she was in, thinking it’s empty, when she’s practicing her singing. Because her singing had been horrible – it was still horrible – and she’d been wearing yellow casual dress, so he’d burst into laughter and blurted out, “Tweety!”

“Stop calling me Tweety!” Yeji pouted, pushing him away, pretending to be angry, but she couldn’t hold back from smiling because he hugged her again almost immediately.

“Why? Tweety is cute.” Seongwoo walked her to the passenger seat after glancing at his watch – they would be late if they didn’t go now – and then he took the driver’s seat.

 She folded her arms across her chest after wearing her seatbelt and putting her things at the back seat. “I think my singing voice has improved a lot.”

“Thanks to who?” Seongwoo also buckled up and pulled away, heading straight to YMC, which was about thirty-minute drive away from her house.

“My baby, of course.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she reminisced their sweet private singing practices, or more exactly, their dates.

Seongwoo was an excellent singer. Out of the other singing teachers at the music-learning center, he was the best one, in her opinion. Well, she might be biased because he was her singing teacher and her boyfriend. Nevertheless, his voice was very beautiful.

“Hey, you haven’t answered my question,” Seongwoo reminded her. “Were you plann