Tiny feet, clad in almost impossibly white Converse sneakers, playfully tapped on the concrete step to the rhythm of spring. Short, black hair swayed as the woman rocked back and forth, plucking at the strings of a second hand acoustic guitar, trying to find the melody that would fit the lyrics rolling about in her head. Spring had finally broke over Seoul, the last vestiges of snow having disappeared the week before to leave behind green grass and budding flowers.

Striking a cord, she softly sung to nobody, letting the soft breeze carry her voice;

What if love is a feeling to believe in?
What if love is a feeling that brings us all down to our knees

With a curt nod, her fingers stopped as she settled the guitar in her lap, hands reaching for an open composition book with her scribblings. Jotting down the notes, she heaved a happy little sigh. Spring was her favorite time of the year. She could feel it in her heart.

It was the season when love was in the air. When she could see it floating about, her eyes catching the glimpses of it everywhere she looked. It wasn’t that love couldn’t be found in other seasons. She had witnessed Christmas confessions, watched two people fall in love on the summer beach or, on one occasion, come together over a spilled Pumpkin Spice latte. But April, when the weather turned and people began to waken from their winter slumber was when she saw the most numbers.

Looking up from her notebook, she squinted as she watched people stroll by, her street connecting a market, bus station and park meaning it was always bustling. She loved being in the midst of this, looking out for those numbers. She watched one young man walk by and blinked, thinking he couldn’t be more than 17 to have such a low number.

89432

“That’s not far off,” she mused, wondering just who he was going to fall in love with. Grinning, she began plucking that joyful melody on her guitar again.

“My, you’re making beautiful music again I see, Seungwan dear,” came the rough voice of her landlady behind her. She heard the sliding door of her apartment complex fall closed with a clack and turned her head to regard the lady, wizened and hunched over with a mop of curly grey hair atop her head. She knew to not let the lady’s fragile appearance deceive her. She was a force of nature despite her age.

“It’s spring, Mrs Kim,” Seungwan said in a sing song voice, eyes scrunching up happily as she spoke. “Today I get to see someone fall in love and it’s inspiring me!” Her lips parted wide to show her teeth in as bright eyes squished tight over chubby cheeks.

“You have such a wonderful heart,” Mrs Kim said, endearment filling her voice as she smiled down at the woman. Reaching out, the landlady patted Seungwan tenderly atop her head. “You always sing and talk about love, deary. Why aren’t you out finding your own? You’re young and pretty.”

With a soft laugh, Seungwan felt herself grow awkward, unsure how to explain her predicament to the lady but instead, just shook her head. “I’m a witness, Mrs Kim. I’m here to witness love,” she held up her guitar as though brandishing her soul to the woman, “and write beautiful music about it. That’s my lot in life.” As Mrs Kim began to open , a number coming down the street caught her attention.

19

“It’s him,” Seungwan suddenly yelped as she scrambled up from her seat. “It’s Chanyeol,” she said emphatically as she looked at Mrs Kim, the woman now taken aback, mouth shutting with a clack as she watched Seungwan frantically shove her guitar and composition notebook into a dark purple nylon guitar bag. “It’s almost time,” she said excitedly.

Slipping her arms into the straps of the bag, she quickly slung it onto her back and hopped down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to give a wild wave to her landlady. “What a strange girl,” Mrs Kim said softly to herself. Seungwan had been a tenant for a little over a year and had brought a new energy to the building. She was a bright ray of sunshine with her youthful enthusiasm, hosting rooftop parties where she would sing anything anyone asked. She had infected the place with happiness.

Watching Seungwan start down the street with lively steps, eyes fixated on a tall, handsome man, Mrs Kim could only grin and call after the tiny girl, “Go get him!”

“Today is the day,” Seungwan thought to herself as she fell in behind Chanyeol, trying to keep just enough distance to not lose sight of him and still not draw his attention. She wondered if he had any clue of what was about to happen to him today as she let her gaze slide up to the numbers floating over his head. Ghostly white, like solidified smoke that twisted and rocked with the breeze. She watched it flicker and change, like a supernatural digital clock.

18

She felt like a stalker, and had to admit herself, she had been one this past week. She had been sitting on her steps, enjoying the warming temperature when he passed by. It wasn’t the way his exercise shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and muscular arms or the athletic thighs peeking out from the hem of his shorts that drew her attention. It was the number floating over his head. 10108. She didn’t have to calculate it. Over the years she had grown quick at estimating and knew it was just over a week before his number would reach 0.

0 was her favorite number. It was the number she lived for. It was the number that made her heart leap because of how special it was but also how rate it was for her to witness one. When she saw his number that day, she followed him to the park. She perched herself on a small, wood and metal bench in the middle of the grassy field beneath a ginko tree. She watched him as he ran along the small path that wound around the park, breathing hard, that number ticking down with every minute that passed. She waited to see if he would return the same time the next day and to her delight, he did.

For the past week he had followed him from the park, wondering if she would see him with someone whose number matched his own. She heard him give his name, “Chanyeol,” at a cafe when ordering. For some reason, knowing his name, only made the whole thing feel sweeter. With a grin, she reached into her pocket and fished out her phone. Holding it up to she said softly, “Siri, call Sooyoung.”

“Morning Seungwannie,” came a bright, happy voice from the other side. “Is he going to the park right now?”

“He is,” Seungwan said with exuberance. “Do you want to come watch? I rarely get to see this happen and you’ve only seen it happen twice!” Her feet seemed to dance as she walked, following behind Chanyeol with a happy gait. She paid little attention to the people who wandered by, some with numbers and some without, his number the only one she seemed to care about in the moment.

“You know I’m at work,” Sooyoung said with a level tone. “I don’t live a carefree life like you do. I actually have to dress in a uniform and go to work every day.” To someone who didn’t know Sooyoung, they might think the girls tone held a bite but she knew it was how the girl teased. 

“Hey, I offered you a job as my assistant but you insist on working at that stinky veterinarian clinic,” Seungwan retorted back. “Just hurry up and get your dog training certificate and you can set your own hours. Oh, we’re at the park. I’m going to have to let you go,” she said in a jumble, words falling over each other before she hung up. “Sooyoung will understand,” she thought as she watched Chanyeol's number change again.

14

As he stopped and knelt down, tightening the laces of his shoes in front of the running track, she veered away, headed towards the small hill and the bench she had made her morning home this past week. The scent of fresh cut grass competed with that of peonies carried on the wind from a nearby garden, her white shoes now marred with green streaks as she trudged up the hill. Her eyes followed Chanyeol as he stepped on the track and began his run, like clockwork. She slung her guitar bag off her shoulder as she got ready to sit down on the bench.

“Hey, watch it,” said a loud, annoyed voice. Blinking, Seungwan tore her gaze away and whipped her head around to see a woman holding the end of her guitar bag. She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her as her eyes met the woman’s, dark and furious. Silken black hair framed a small face, pale and delicate with pink lips. “You almost hit me with this,” the woman said and gently pushed it away.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Seungwan quickly fussed as she pulled the bag against her chest, arms wrapping around it as she gave a series of quick bows. “I was distracted and I wasn’t paying attention, which happens when I’m distracted and I’m not used to anyone sitting here when,” she rambled on as the woman’s browed slowly quirked upward, millimeter by millimeter, with each word that tumbled out of .

In the background she caught sight of Chanyeol run by, arms pumping, beads of sweat forming on his cheeks and brow. 

8

Seungwan gave an excited yelp that made the woman jump, the book held in her slender fingers falling to tumble into her lap. Setting her guitar case down, leaning against the end of the bench, Seungwan leap up onto the slatted wooden bench seat, squating as she grasped at the metal back, watching him run. 

Blinking, the dark haired woman stared at Seungwan with open mouth, completely taken aback by the woman’s strange behavior. Following Seungwan’s gaze, the woman watched it track the man. “Of course,” she muttered before raising her voice. “Are you his fangirl?”

“Huh? What? Fangirl… no,” Seungwan said offhandedly as she swiveled on the bench, watching as he looped around the far side of the track. “I’m just here to watch. It’s almost time,” Seungwan said with a grin as though her words were explanation enough. She was met with the woman’s brows furrowed in consternation, lips pursed.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m trying to read a book here so I hope it happens soon. If you’re interested in him, it might be better to go talk to him rather than sitting here watching him like a stalker.”

“Oh,” Seungwan said before laughing and giving the woman a dismissive wave. “I’m interested in him, certainly. But not like that.” She turned and plopped down onto her bottom, grabbing the guitar bag and pulling it into her lap. “He has five minutes left and I get to see it! It’s wonderful!”

The woman cocked her head to the side, brows somehow managing to furrow deeper as she watched Seungwan zip the bag open and carefully draw out her guitar. “Five minutes left? What in the world are you talking about?” Her voice reeked of confusion.

“You’ll see,” Seungwan said as she nestled the guitar into her lap, plucking a few chords. “But I don’t see who as of yet…” Her voice trailed off as she scrunched her eyes, scanning the park, looking for someone. Suddenly she let out a loud gasp as her eyes fell on a tall woman, young and pretty with a pink t-shirt and black tights, bending over and tightening her laces. Above her head floated a glowing white number. 

4

She frantically swivelled her head, looking for Chanyeol and a tiny squeal, like a surprised hamster, escaped as she saw his number.

4

She raised a hand and pointed frantically as the young woman stepped onto the path, running along the same path and direction as Chanyeol. “That’s her! That has to be her! Their numbers are the same.” There was elation in her voice as she shifted her attention to the woman, knowing that she was just a few, short minutes away from what was destined to be a wonderful moment.

“What are you even talking about?”

“She and that man,” Seungwan began as she started strumming her guitar, the melody she had been working on filling the air, “are about to fall in love. I don’t know exactly how,” she said pointedly, “but it’s going to happen in less than four minutes.”

“You’re kidding,” said the raven haired woman, the furrow of her brow not replaced with squinted eyes and a dubious expression.

“Not at all,” Seungwan exclaimed, her voice excited as she felt herself filled with energy. She could feel it pouring out from every pore. “Something is going to happen and they are going to fall in love. Just watch.”

3

The dark haired woman just shook her head and her book, wanting to pick it up and read again but found herself watching the woman, curious. “What if,” she wondered. With a sigh, she simply folded her book in her lap and watched.

Her fingers finding the tune, Seungwan smiled as she began to sing her song. Lending an air to the moment, wanting so much to be a part of this moment. Something more than just a bystander in the distance.

Close your eyes in shallow light
And lately I want to dream
Will you stay with me?
Or turn and leave.

2

They watched as the girl slowly gained on Chanyeol, her feet pounding hard against the track, her cheeks slack as she settled into a fast pace. Both of them couldn’t keep their eyes off her, slender yet firm legs, a willful determination in the set of her features. “She’s fast,” Joohyun muttered softly, impressed by the woman’s speed.

What if love is a feeling to believe in?
What if love is feeling that brings us all down to our knees
Is that so wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong?
Is that so wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong

1

Seungwan could hear the pounding of her own heart in her ears, the expectation of the new minute delicious. She caught sight of the woman next to her lean forward, biting her soft lip, eyes intense as she watched. Seungwan grinned as she sang, happy that she could share this moment with someone even if it wasn’t Sooyoung.

If I had to fight and stand alone
And keep you right I would keep your heart and hold it tight 
With all my mind

Her voice fell away as she watched the woman come up right behind Chanyeol, she bit her lip as she leaned forward, her fingers still plucking away at the strings not of her own accord but my instinct. She watched as she woman said something, the words lost on the wind, as she came up behind him. Chanyeol moved to left, looking to give the athletic woman to pass, when his food slid off the path.

They both gasped as they watched him tumbled onto the grass, end over end, to fall splaying out on his back. The could see the woman gasp and skid to a stop, quickly running to him, kneeling at his side, holding out a hand.

0

The world seemed to slow about them as Chanyeol slowly took her hand, letting her pull him up to a sit. They could see the pair talking from the bench, wondering what words were being said, but the mood was readable even from this distance.

The sudden shyness on the girl’s face as she blushed, the way he laughed and held the back of his head. The intensity of their eyes as they met. The change in posture as he pulled himself up to his knees, instinctively moving closer to the woman as though their bodies were magnetic and drawn to one another.

“How,” the woman beside Seungwan said in disbelief as they watched the new couple exchange phones, each punching in their contact information. Grinning, Seungwan leaned back into the bench, eyes falling shut as she rolled her head back and luxuriated in the moment. She was happy to live vicariously through them, to watch love bloom.

“How in the world did you know that was going to happen?” 

Blinking, Seungwan turned her head to look at the woman with lazy eyes and sanguin smile. “I can just see it,” she said before fluttering her eyes playfully. “Do you know how rare it is to witness love at first sight? I’ve seen people fall in love at least two hundred times over the years and this is only my second love at first sight.” Leaning forward, Seungwan rolled her shoulders and began stuffing her guitar back in it’s bag.

She glanced sidelong at the woman who just stared at her with slack mouth and wide eyes. She hadn’t paid much attention before but now let herself really take a look. A blue and white striped button down shirt hung loose over dark, ripped jeans that hugged the woman’s slender legs. “She’s petite,” Seungwan thought before noticing the bright, white Converse sneakers on the woman’s feet. “Just like mine,” she said to herself.

Standing, she slung the guitar back onto her back again and smiled down at the woman. “I can see when people fall in love. Or at least, I can see the minutes until someone finds their soulmate,” she said as way of explanation which only caused the woman to shake her head as though trying to let those words rattle about in her mind.

With a lopsided grin, Seungwan slid her gaze upwards from the woman’s face, watching as a set of numbers formed and shifted above that pretty head. “Fifty five thousand, three hundred and,” her gaze traveled downwards, meeting the woman’s intense gaze, brown eyes shining gold in the spring sun, “sixty five minutes.”

“Pardon?” The woman blinked at Seungwan, unable to grasp what this strange girl was telling her.

Squinching her eyes, her smile growing wider, she leaned over till her face hovered before the woman’s, the scent of lavender wafting up to fill her senses. Reaching out, Seungwan gave the woman’s knee a friendly pat, voice almost a whisper as she said, “That’s how many minutes before you find your soulmate.”

With a musical laugh, Seungwan backed up a few steps before standing up straight. She winked at the woman, now sputtering, before turning on heel and skipping down the soft slope of the hill, leaving the shade of the ginkgo tree and stepping out into the sun with a renewed energy.

Behind her, a very bewildered woman wordlessed mouth to herself, “What in the hell was that?”

Authors Notes: I had told myself not to try and write two stories at once but here I am. I generally come up with a story in three ways; I decide I want to write two characters and force myself to come up with a scenario (my least favorite way), see a picture that sparks a story idea (my most common method) and finally, a raw idea that pops into my head out of nowhere and just builds and builds. This is that last kind of story. I had thought to hold onto the idea until I was done with my other story, An Illicit Winter, but just couldn't hold it back. So here it is. This story won't have a dedicated schedule but will be worked on slowly because I want to get it just right. I hope you enjoy the story!