[1]

Sanghee peered out over the window, her eyes taking in the bright colours squeezing through the clouds. It was chilly, and she thought, pulling her thin cardigan around herself. So, on this day that could bring rain or sunshine, she hoped for both, for the chance of a rainbow.

Two hearts made their way through the expanse of green, Jongin and his treasured companion Romeo. This was the sight Sanghee had been admiring every single morning. She admired everything about him, from the way the breeze blew his hair to the way he laughed, a deep chuckle that could lift her spirit.

"Good morning, love." He would say.

Today happened to be a little different. When their irises locked, she knew this was a contest and winning came at a price. The first to avert their eyes would be the loser.

Jongin's head tilted upwards, his lips forming a pensive grin. At that moment Sanghee knew, there was something about that gaze of his she would never find in another man as if at that moment their souls crossed the same bridge.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

Sanghee's cheeks suddenly turned pink as a spring rose. She hastily looked away, trying to find a distraction. "You're thinking too hard." The next words came out as a mere whisper, "I can hear the gears grinding in your head..."

Jongin hung back, fighting back a smile that wanted to break out. "What was that?" While his gaze remained soft, he didn't drop his eyes even for a split moment.

Sanghee shook her head reluctantly. "Nothing!" She snapped, defensively.

"If you say so," Jongin hummed, knowing well it wasn't just nothing. "Do you want to go for a little wander? Romeo is in a perfect mood today, aren't you, buddy?" He asked, petting the pretty white horse.

Romeo neighed harmoniously in reply whilst galloping around in small circles, almost forgetting his caretaker was sitting on it's padded saddle.

"Not today, Jongin."

Romeo's movements slowed down until entirely still, almost as if he felt Jongin's heart sink to the core of his stomach.

"Not today?!" Jongin repeated, sounding beyond belief. "But you said the same yesterday." He continued sulking like a disappointed man child.

"It's far too cold. What if I get sick?" Sanghee huffed, knowing well how much the temperature had dropped since last night.

A little smirk appeared on Jongin's face before he said, "I won't allow for that to happen, love." He couldn't stop imagining his body warming up against hers if she gave him a chance, in the most innocent way.

Say yes, Sanghee. Say yes. Let me show you a whole new world—just you and me.

And Sanghee had no idea what he meant by those words. What in the world was going through Kim Jongin's mind?

"Please elaborate. I'm not a mind reader."

"You can borrow my jacket." Jongin offered, erasing any assumptions his words might have caused.

Showing a sign of rejection by folding her arms, Sanghee confidently declined, "What makes you think I'll change my mind?"

When Sanghee didn't expect Jongin to fire back an answer so quick, he proved her wrong just like the previous times.

"Then, what will?"

Sanghee wanted to say something, but there was absolutely nothing that wanted to slip her tongue. That question was enough to know this mysterious and enchanting boy wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

The Kim Jongin she had got to know these past few days would go lengths to take her on a ride, and that idea was a scary one indeed.

[2]

With his brain on five per cent battery, Junmyeon slumped in his favourite armchair and threw his gun on the table. There was something extraordinary about a home after the testosterone-filled barracks.

Every night was a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts. He didn't want to sleep, not yet. He just spent 192 hours working and didn't feel ready to wake in the morning to rinse and repeat.

Upon entering the lounge, a middle-aged woman who stood quite tall and slim, her short black hair neat seemed very surprised upon finding a sleep-deprived soldier sprawled out in his stained uniform.

"You're back." She announced as a matter of factly, scrutinising his unshaven face.

Junmyeon hummed in reply, his eyelids forcing themselves to shut down. Then all of a sudden, he jerked awake.

"Tired?" She smiled at him.

"No, I'm fine." He muttered, rubbing his eyes fiercely. "What time it is?"

"5.15 pm." Her footsteps resonated the air as she neared close enough to peer down at her beloved son. "Your father wants you at the dining table for dinner in 45."

Junmyeon's hands dropped to his lap to stare up at his mother, a big sigh escaping his dry lips whilst his the colour of his face remained completely flushed.

Bending down to his level, she whispered, "I know that you're exhausted, darling." Dropping a feather kiss on his temple, she ushered him up. "Freshen up, eat your dinner then you can get some sleep."

Forcefully dragging himself upstairs and into his en-suite, Junmyeon stripped down and slowly stepped into the tub, turning the water on high and letting it beat over his head in steamy rivulets.

Closing his eyes to the water as the heat soaked into his skin, he leaned against the cold tiles. The sensation of the steamy water calming him; it took his mind off things.

Eight whole days and he still hadn't managed to figure out how Lee Donghyun's twisted and sickening mind worked. Was this imprisoned man telling him the truth, or was he using this as an excuse to throw him off from what was happening behind the scenes?

With Byun Baekhyun, his colleague and trusted friend suggesting that the only way they could gain far more reliable information was is if they enforced physical torture on this man, but that's not what he wanted to do, yet.

It was his duty to figure this out in a more critical way otherwise, wouldn't that leave the people who are supposed to be protecting the country and it's people to be just as bad as the enemies?

Dinner sounded at last--at six o'clock. Feeling alert and fresh, Down Junmyeon went, down the long corridors and stairs of his lavish home. The dining room was exquisite. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold paper and in the middle of the carved oak table was a candelabra.

"Junmyeon, my boy!" Kim Jinho's aged voice bellowed through the air. "Glad you could make it to dinner with that tight schedule of yours!"

Junmyeon smiled, taking a seat opposite his father right at the table.

"These days I have to book an appointment with my son just to see him." Jinho laughed from his belly, a very genuine one.

His father was a proud man. He was strict, disciplined and of high principle. He wore his pride like a parapet. Yet, the time had managed to soften him once realising how harsh he had been on his one and only son to bring the best out of his abilities. And Junmyeon, he was very thankful for that. Because without his father, he wouldn't be sitting here with this badge.

"What can I say, I've become very high in demand recently." Junmyeon chimed in.

"How's everything at your base, Major?" His father started with the relatively easy questions, whilst he cut his chicken into bite-sized pieces.

Junmyeon thanked the server who poured his crystal clear glass with fine red wine before he answered. "Surprisingly, everything has been under control."

"Why surprisingly?" Jinho grew curious. He signalled for the server to leave the area so the two could have some private space. It wasn't ever a good idea to have too many ears around. 

"It's been twelve days since the bomb threats yet no movements have been tracked since..." Junmyeon chewed on his food, his voice fading. "I'm starting to wonder if this was a scheme to distract us from something else."

"You could be onto something. This might be worth discussing with general Ahn Ilsung," Jinho replied, "Which reminds me? When was the last time you contacted Sanghee?"

That question caught Junmyeon off-guard. He should have suspected where this conversation was going to lead towards upon the mention of his father in law.

"It's been for some days." Junmyeon was unable to admit that it had been over a week, ever since he left her at the Oh cottage.

"Last night over a call, Ahn Ilsung suggested for the wedding to take place once Sanghee returns to the city in a few weeks."

For Junmyeon, suddenly the polished silver cutlery felt too heavy to the hand. Instead, he chose to take a sip out of his wine glass, his grip tightening around the fragile material.

[3]

"Soyeon! Soyeon!" Sehun practically yelled at the top of his lungs. "The telephone has been ringing since the past five minutes could you please answer it!"

"She's busy!" Jongin snapped in return from behind him. "Do it yourself."

Agitated, Sehun shouted, "Busy doing what?!" With his hands dipped in the basin full of dirty dishes resting in water mixed with washing up liquid, the least he wanted was for the others to co-operate