On the way back, Sehun couldn’t look at her. His heart still rammed speedily into his ribs. He didn’t remember ever being this shy before. The feelings plundered him so deeply he didn’t know how to start a conversation.

He tried not to fold his fingers too much. Every brush, every tiny movement made him too conscious. He had interlaced hands with her and quickly pulled her down the road in case she saw how mad red his face was. Sehun couldn’t deal with her laughing at him tonight.

Tomorrow, maybe, when he collected himself more, they could talk. Like, Namjoo knew? Or did she just make a guess tonight? And what debt? More importantly, how did she feel about him?

Sehun became wary as they approached the familiar alleyway leading to her place. Worrying about how he’d say bye. That meant he would have to look at her and she would see how beet red his face was. Another good laugh for her. Great.

Namjoo was first to untangle her hand from his. Suddenly he wondered if he’d been holding on too tightly. He sweated nervously.

“Thanks.” Namjoo turned to look at him.

“Oh…yea, of course.” His gaze swayed to the side. He bit his lower lip aware she was probably seeing how red his face was and trying not to make a joke of it.

“Thanks for the juice. Goodnight.” She waved the bottle. He caught the last of her grin as she turned to unlock the bolt and headed inside. Once the gate clanged shut it really meant the night had ended.

Sehun watched her climb the stairs and become just a shadow under the moon. Regret soaked him from head down. Why was he such an idiot? It wasn’t like he’d never gone after a woman before. He shouldn’t be so clueless or timid.

Pivoting he took a step away, stopped, and peered back once more. At least the first part of it was over. He would be able to breathe more easily tomorrow.

Wrong. Sehun went through his entire closet. Unable to pick from his selection of clothes. Having tried five outfits unsatisfactorily. He had no idea what Namjoo liked in a man. And there was no way in hell he was going to think of Jineol and the way he dressed. He’d rather drink poison than try to mimic him.

He went with a crisp blue button-up and black pants for the classic look. No jeans he thought. No jeans. Overlooking himself in the mirror five times he grabbed his keys and hurried out. Rolling the windows all the way down as he sped down the street. The blast of wind was refreshing, a renewal of energy.

He was excited. Eager. Anxious. Nervous. All in one package.

This morning it didn’t matter that Namjoo hadn’t messaged first. He had texted wondering if she’d woken up. She was awake. Did she want to go grocery shopping with him? He would make her lunch he promised. She said ok.

Sehun was elated as he drove down the road toward Namjoo’s. He had a shopping list written. Better to be organized than come off as clueless. He didn’t want to look unintelligent in her eyes.

Namjoo must have heard his car, because her door opened as he rolled up and she was already coming down the stairs. She was dressed very casually as if on a quick 5-minute errand and would be home soon. The sight of her jeans made him doubt his outfit of the day.

Had he done too much?

Embarrassment fluttered through him. He flushed and hope she would not read it in his expression.

“Hi.” He greeted when she stepped out from the gate.

Pulling the gate shut he caught her eyes drifting over him. Amusement flittered through her eyes but she said nothing. Sehun wasn’t sure if that made him feel worse or better.

“Don’t open the door for me.” Namjoo beat him to it. His hands were left hanging, needing to do something. Poking her head out of the open window, she asked, “Are we going?”

Namjoo was strapping the seatbelt over her when he finally slid behind the wheel. “Um…so, did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “I showered and went to sleep right away.”

“Well…that’s good.” He’d stayed up thinking about the kiss. Too happy from it. Replaying the moment over and over. Determining how close they’d been; if she’d continued holding onto his shoulder the entire time. It still felt like a dream that he’d been able to kiss her again. He had wondered momentarily if he was just hallucinating.

God, it was getting hot. Sehun turned toward the window where most of the wind rushed through his hair.

“Is this your shopping list?” Namjoo picked up the piece of folded paper from the cup holder. She skimmed the list.

He blushed. “Oh…yea…”

“Spicy crab curry?” Namjoo wondered.

Sehun shied. “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

Setting the paper on her lap, Namjoo asked, “Where is your family?”

“Gwangyang.”

A moment of silence elapsed between them. “That’s far away.”

Something twisted inside him. He didn’t really want to say, because he didn’t want Namjoo pitying him.

“I had to go where no one knows me.” Sehun chirped up. Pulling on a smile to certify she didn’t need to be the one worrying, he finished, “It’s ok though, really. It’s been a long time already.”

He got a really warm smile from her before she quieted and turned to stare out the window. The time to brood kicked in. He shouldn’t have mentioned his mother. In all seriousness of it, Sehun didn’t need Namjoo to be sad for him. He should have focused on today instead. Quiz her about which store they were visiting, make some joke, something.

Condemning himself Sehun promised to keep his mouth shut.

Finally arriving at the store Sehun grabbed a basket by the entrance. Namjoo raised a brow. “What?”

“Are you sure you don’t need a cart?” she asked.

“No.” he confidently said. He was shy, but to make up for shifting the mood earlier he courageously grabbed Namjoo’s hand. “Come on.”

Today was not the day to mull over his life. Some other day if she asked again, he would tell her. There wasn’t much interesting about him anyway. The most important things had already been told when they first sat together in her garden. It was true he couldn’t go back home where judgment would shadow him and affect his family, tear up his ex’s new life. But that was all.

“Don’t look.” He said when they passed the wine and liquor aisle. The memories of watching her stuffing her cart with numerous bottles was still fresh. He didn’t want her touching them again.

“I’m not.” Namjoo scowled.

Entering the fresh produce aisle Sehun began looking for items to check off his list. Bagging and throwing one and another product into his basket.

“You know what you’re doing?” Namjoo sounded doubtful.

“Of course.” One day he might have to teach her. Or maybe he would just do it. Sehun didn’t know if he’d trust Namjoo grocery shopping. She might be excessive. He didn’t always want noodles either. Suddenly he realized between them he’d be the one cooking. He could already imagine rushing her into the ER for chopping a finger off.

Grabbing a random onion, she observed it as he stopped to look at carrots. “So, who taught you?”

“My mom.” He said. “Noeul.”

He peeked at her wondering if she might look at him for explanation, but Namjoo was occupied with the peeling onion. He took it from her in case she accidentally peeled the covering off then he’d have to buy it. Right now he didn’t need a white onion.

“She was my girlfriend.” Sehun told her anyway.

Looking at him now, Namjoo just asked like she wasn’t bothered, “Is she pretty?”

“She is.” He solemnly replied then turned to see her smile growing coy.

“Like Jineol is handsome?” Namjoo picked his bone.

He swore a nerve in his temple twitched, but Namjoo just giggled. Fine. He’d let her have fun. Deciding on his choice he pulled her away from the dry section.

“Laugh now.” He muttered.

When they reached the seafood section Namjoo grimaced, backing up to hide behind him. Grabbing a live crab out of a tank on display he swung it at her. Spindly legs squirming and claws clamping shut. Pulling her hand free she ran off shrieking. She didn’t return even after he made his pick and had it bagged.

Sehun was almost worried where she’d gone until something hit him in the back. He turned around to the sound of plastic rustling. Namjoo was holding up a sealed bag of cookies.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“I want something sweet.” Namjoo declared.

He eyed her, her purse, her.

Casually slipping it into the too full basket, she sheepishly smiled, “Since we’re on a date, you can buy it for me as a token.”

D…date?

He hadn’t actually said that through text or by mouth. Sehun watched her trot ahead not sure if he was humored or if she had just yanked him by the collar. Again.

But he was overjoyed.

Namjoo got the cookies in the end. He carried the bags up to his private condominium where they rode his private elevator up. On the way Namjoo peered from corner to corner, ceiling to floor curiously, but she said nothing. Suppose after living luxuriously in Jineol’s giant manor his condo wasn’t that impressive.

Setting the bags on the black countertop island in his kitchen he watched her drift over to the window. He received a flash of a grin over her shoulder. “You really are well off.”

He flushed. Shifting focus to unpacking he didn’t want to compare his place to hers. Sehun didn’t want her feeling small, question his expenses, or make light of it by joking about how low her situation had become. Karma had nothing to do with how she was living now.

Sure, Namjoo was difficult. His patience with her at the manor always stretched thin, but maybe it was the drugs that always wired her up. This person now wasn’t the madam. She was so different and honest.

Wondering what she was up to again he stole another glance. Namjoo wasn’t even looking at him anymore. She was giggling. What about?

By the time he got a pot of water onto the burner, a stove top installed to the left end of the island, Namjoo finally joined him. “You should put the couch against the window. Wouldn’t it be better to sit there with the sun shining on your back and you can stare outside whenever you want?”

Sehun looked over at his 8-seater facing the flat screen, the window off to the side.

“Well, it’s just a suggestion.” Namjoo shrugged.

Did that mean she would be over again?

Yes, he wanted her over again. Spend more time with him at his place. The thought sent glee shooting through him.

He got another warm smile from her that made his insides tingle. Going quiet as he started prepping ingredients Namjoo began tapping her fingers against the countertop. Sehun assumed she was observing and learning. Then she disappeared. To wash her hand? Look around? She could be bored here compared to the store where there was plenty.

Sehun wondered if he should have the TV. Did she want to watch a movie? Search the internet? He had a laptop. Damn he should have offered her a drink. She could be thirsty. He’d also forgotten about her cookies. Did she want them?

Surprise elapsed through him when Namjoo linked her arms around him and her head touched the back of his shoulder. So gracefully. So tenderly. His heart stampeded. Sehun was afraid he might melt then and there.

His hands froze over the food. Sinking into the feel of her against him. She was really hugging him. Not too tightly. Not too loosely. Not in the way that set off the to boiling. There was everything affectionate about the gesture.

The warmth. Comfort. Contentment. The mutual emotion of gratitude. And he was touched. Lonely Namjoo soothing the part of him that could not go back home.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Maybe she wasn’t the only one seeking an escape. Sehun had come a long way from home to escape the turmoil he had caused in order to save the ones left behind from the sins he carried. His family. The memoir of his girlfriend tattooed on his arm, because he missed her. Maybe he had dreamt of marrying and starting a family with her.

Namjoo understood. In the manner that she stubbornly loved Jineol, Sehun quietly remembered his girlfriend always.

It was the first thing Namjoo did after Sehun dropped her off. She looked up Gwangyang. It was a city that specialized in steel near the southeast border. Very far from the city. So far. He had seriously put a distance between him and the past.

Literally left everyone behind. To come where no one knew him.

He was really a funny one.

Dropping onto her bed Namjoo stared up at the ceiling. They’d eaten his super spicy curry. Drinking three glasses of ice-cold water, but on the drive home her tongue still burned. Sehun was definitely not an A+ cook. Namjoo was beginning to think she might have to fear for her future.

Covering her eyes with her arm she laughed. As it flopped beside her, she sat up to dig around for her purse. Laying back down she held the phone to her ear. Sehun answered after a ring.

“You’re really not that good of a cook.” She giggled.

“It…it is supposed to be that spicy!” he claimed. Then he kind of squeaked concerned, “Does your stomach hurt?”

Subconsciously touching her stomach, Namjoo rolled onto her side. “No, it doesn’t.”

“That’s good. Sorry.” He quietly said.

“So,” Namjoo began, “what else has your mom taught you?”

“About what?”

Shrugging, she said, “Anything.”

“I know a few more recipes.”

“Should I trust you?”

“They’re not spicy. Promise.” He guaranteed.

A laugh bubbled inside her chest. “What is your mom like?”

The prison he had been sent to was three hours away from his hometown. His father, a fisherman, was usually gone for four weeks at a time. His mom worked at a dessert factory. Often times she made it home to spend some time with him, but too many times worn out from standing all day. On evenings she was energetic they had cooked together. When he got sentenced his mother had worked longer hours in hopes of posting bail for him. Longer hours prevented her from visiting him during public hours.

Sehun had only seen his parents one time during his prison stay; both of them separately, having come at different times because of their strenuous schedules. Noeul wrote him just once. Telling him she was going to therapy and had enrolled in a nursing program. Admitting it was hard to think or talk about him, so it was better they not meet again.

“That’s all.” His voice had softened. “I’ve repented and moved on, so don’t think too much about it.”

“Fine, I won’t.” she mumbled. Closing her eyes, she said, “Sehun, do you want to come help wash my sheets tomorrow?”

“And your clothes?” he teased.

Namjoo giggled, “I’m doing those later.”

When they hung up Namjoo actually took a nap. The next afternoon she dragged out her bedsheet and pillow covers. Tossing them into a large bucket of soapy water. She had left the bolt unlocked but the gate was closed. Sehun could make his own way up as she prepared.

As she started stomping barefoot on the bedsheets Sehun appeared from around the corner of the staircase. Today he was more casually dressed with crisp slacks and a plain tee, which made her giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

Namjoo shook her head. She had realized yesterday on the way to his condo why he’d never ridden her bus before. His house was never in the direction of the bus route. Sehun actually lived on the other side yet he took the effort to ride the bus with her every weekday.

“What?” he frowned.

“You’re late.” She called out. “I’m already done.”

He glanced at her soapy ankles.

“If you help me hang them up, you can have lunch.” Namjoo bargained.

“Noodles?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Ok.” He agreed. He would have helped anyway, she knew, since he was already here. And that was just his persona.

After rinsing her feet off, they wrung the sheets to rid of extra moisture. Hooking them over the laundry line one by one Sehun helped her pin them in place to dry.

“Here.” She handed him another one and slid to the side to pin the other end. A draft blew the sheet wayward and she stole a peek of him. Subconsciously smiling from the sight of him.

The thing was, this was kind of like the first time she met Jineol. Standing out among the sitting crowd in the Literature Club. And also, not. Jineol had been suave and charming, knew-he-had-it kind of thing when they first talked. In a retrospective, Sehun just seemed to shine less.

But…he was ever kind and helpful. Who ever knew where a relationship between two people could lead? The fluttering came first. The puppy love second. Then the fighting, scheming, backstabbing, and betrayals. That might be all that would happen between them.

She thought she could believe in Jineol. She could also believe in Sehun before the unforeseen circumstances came round and he would do the same to her.

It was all just a gamble.

A matter of time.

“Do you want to try it?” she asked.

“What?” he looked at her. The same draft revisited, making the sheet flutter between them so they could see each other better.

“Do you really like me?”

His eyes lowered, hesitant. Locking gaze with her more steadily this time, he stated in a clear, loud voice, “I like you. Namjoo.”

A smile passed through her lips. She had an inkling since he continued acting odd around her. Appearing everyday at the bus stop? Finding her at the library? Scribbling his number on her palm? Telling her to stop smiling then running away? That wasn’t like the driver she knew.

“Go out with me.” He said. “Let’s get to know each other more. We can skip being friends. I want to know you more romantically.”

Smiling an inch more Namjoo stepped through the gap of the billowing sheets toward him. Cupping his face, she tiptoed to give him a kiss. “That was all you needed to say.”

***Someone said fluff???? Fluff we do!