“Driver Oh?” Jineol frowned confused.

Sehun’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing here?” Jineol asked. Uncertainty coiled through his voice, but the smooth of his face hinted he was coming to conclusions. The man’s sight veered toward the keys dangling from his hand.

That was when Sehun set his jaw. The tension grew hyper. His hand curled into a fist.

“Who are the flowers for?” Sehun steely asked.

Jineol had the audacity to grin foolishly. “Are they pretty? Namjoo likes flowers. It’s what I first brought her on our first date.”

Flying forward Sehun swung his fist into Jineol’s face. The sharp edges of the house key dug into his palm upon impact. The bouquet landed at their feet. Sehun stepped on them, yanking Jineol by his shirt, popping the first button, and swung him around. His knuckles connected with the ex’s cheek and the man roared a belly deep groan.

Huffing a foot away Sehun’s stare burned the ex down. His mouth was split and bleeding. Sehun’s knuckles throbbed.

“She doesn’t need flowers.” Sehun spat.

Jineol breathed a laugh, baffled. He touched his wounded lip and ran a tongue against the inside of his mouth. “What is this?” His eyes darkened, “Do you like her or something?”

The manner of the said words sounded so trivial something snapped inside. Sehun flew forward again, but Jineol charged at him. Snatching his shirt in his hands Namjoo’s ex-husband drove him backward.

“You like my wife?” Jineol angered.

Sehun caught his oncoming fist and shoved him backward. Unathletic Jineol stumbled several steps. “She’s not your wife!”

Running him over Sehun snatched him by the shoulders. Straddling him, Sehun grasped his shirt, shaking him violently. “You know nothing about her!”

Dropping him with a thud Sehun threw another fist into his side cheek. Jineol howled in pain and rage. Gathering a surge of energy Jineol propelled his upper body up, shoving Sehun off, and pinned him to the concrete.

“I’ll end you if you touched her!” Jineol bellowed returning a jab. Sehun’s face immediately throbbed with intense heat. “You’re just a lowly driver! You came from nothing!”

Growling, Sehun pushed him over slamming a knee into his side as they rolled to his left. Jineol curled from the pain. Taking advantage of the moment Sehun shot to his feet. Achingly pushing himself up onto a knee, Jineol rose, too. Huffing sorely. Their laser glares locked and with just a breath, went at each other again belting screams of determination.

“You left her!” Sehun howled. “You’re just a bastard!” Tossing Jineol onto the lounge table, he squeezed his collar around his throat, seething pure rage. “Namjoo was in so much pain she had to abuse drugs! You made her an alcoholic! You were killing her!”

Jineol cried out. Driven mad, Sehun gave the collar one last squeeze suffocating Jineol. Releasing him vehemently when he decided Jineol was wrung out. Spitting, Sehun backed off before he might kill.

Pulsing uncontrollably with fury, Sehun clenched his fists so tightly his veins popped along his forearms. Demanding, “Leave.”

Sitting up hunched Jineol moaned. His bloodied hand swiped at his injured mouth. Abruptly rising, Jineol moved so fast Sehun wasn’t prepared. Jineol’s hand hooked him under his chin. Losing balance Sehun toppled backward. Climbing over him Jineol pummeled him.

“No, leave? Who do you think you are?” Jineol spewed wrath. His voice leveled menacingly, “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

Thirty seconds. Sehun was definite it lasted thirty seconds, before Jineol stopped and just panted. Drained. Exhausted. Whatever. Hands that gripped a pen and signed off papers, spun over a keyboard daily weren’t meant for .

Sehun spat blood and lay laughing. “Me?” The burst of laughter faded and he stared up at a clear blue sky. “I love her. When you were sleeping around, I sat with her. I dried her tears and I made her laugh. We ate lunch together. Me? I know everything you don’t. The baby Namjoo had, but you will never have. Me. It was me who stayed with her when you were firing up another affair with Yena! It’s me who deserves her! I’ll make Namjoo happier than you ever have, so she never thinks of you again!”

His ears started ringing when Jineol decked him again. Again. And again, until all he heard was a shriek that stretched for an amount of time. Jineol’s weight became air. Sehun coughed from the shock of nearly passing out. The ringing in his ears continued but he felt the gentle hands patting him.

Opening his eyes, he laughed dumbly when his vision cleared and he recognized Namjoo leaning over him. Frantically trying to wake him. Reaching up he touched her hand, but only momentarily before Jineol pulled her away and started barking something he couldn’t make out.

A door slammed as he lay there waiting for the pain to burn out so he could move again. Replaying over and over in his head what he’d told Jineol.

That he loved her.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Blocking the doorway after releasing and half pushing her away, Jineol tapped the plastic covering of the bouquet, hoping to bring the stomped flowers back to life.

“That bastard,” he muttered. More happily, Jineol extended an arm offering them to her.

Namjoo glared bewildered.

Mustering a gleeful laugh, Jineol smoothed out his suit. Gently patting his face, he excused, “Don’t mind it. They’re just superficial. I’ll go to the doctor after this, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” Namjoo emotionlessly said. The surprise in Jineol’s eyes made her want to repeat herself. “Why are you here?”

“H…how can you ignore me like that?” Jineol questioned.

“I don’t know, Jineol.” Namjoo coolly replied. “Go home.”

“You can’t just tell me to leave like this!” Came his outburst. He did a quick sweep of her shabby place. “What are you doing here? Come home. The manor has everything you need!”

“Why?” Namjoo questioned. “I like it here.”

His jaw dropped, nearly sweeping the floor then he gasped. “Are you insane? There’s nothing here for you! It’s dirty, it’s unlivable! How can you even breathe here? My parents would never accept this.”

“And what do they have to do with this?” Namjoo blandly prodded.

Again, his mouth opened but came no real explanation. Sighing, he said, “Fine, fine. You want to hear it, so you’ll be satisfied?” His voice practically went up a notch madly, “Yena’s a liar. I got duped! The baby was never mine.” Softening instantly, Jineol slid forward to touch her arm, “I heard you were pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Without thinking Namjoo grabbed the phonebook on the side table and smacked his wrist. Jineol let go immediately.

Stepping into her space he leaned close, persuading, “I’m your husband, Namjoo. If you were troubled you should have come to me. I would have gotten you all the help you needed! But –” his eyes rounded with disbelief, “him?! The ing driver?! You chose him over me?! He’s nobody! He can’t do anything for you!”

“Jineol,” Namjoo stared up at him, “you think of yourself too highly.”

Incredulity stormed across his expression. “You’re atrocious!”

Namjoo merely smiled unaffected. Stretching up into his face, she whispered, “I don’t care.”

A vein throbbed in his neck. “You think you can make a fool out of me like this?”

Standing back, Namjoo shrugged a shoulder as if she couldn’t waste the energy. “I left you, because you wanted to pick up new laundry. Then you decide the new laundry isn’t crisp and clean enough, so you want to retrieve your used laundry. Your grandmother who boasted will need to hide first and your family will need to prepare damage control. Comb through your court mandates, the politicians, and your relatives who know I went to the courthouse to hand you divorce papers. And find Yena and pay her to keep shut. For sure, there will be a lot of embarrassment going around. Who’s being the real fool here, Jineol?”

His jaw sawed back and forth.

“Leave.” Namjoo ordered. “I don’t want to see you again.”

Her stare literally penetrated through his skull. She breathed surprised when he slammed the flowers into her chest and left, slamming the door behind him. A gust of wind clipped her face.

Dumping the flowers upside down into her garbage bin, Namjoo went in search of a bowl and filled it with lukewarm water. Moving fast, hoping Sehun was conscious outside. Or if he needed to go to the hospital at all.

Grabbing a box of bandaid, all she had really, she darted outside. Sehun was no longer lying on the floor beaten and bloody. He was sitting at the lounge table.

Standing in front of the door Namjoo took in the sight of him. Closing it, she went over to him.

“If you’re going to fight you should have won.” Namjoo muttered sliding onto the table.

Sehun scoffed. “I could have easily won. I just went easy on him.”

“Turn.” Namjoo ordered.

“He’s not that strong.” Sehun gloated. “I’m much more fit than he is. That’s what city boys really are, weak, and they sit behind a computer all day.”

He winced when she touched the damp towel to a cut on his face. “Oh?” she raptured coyly. “It hurts.”

Touching the cut Sehun frowned at her, hurt. “They’re artificial injuries. It’s just the blood that makes it look bad. Look, I’ve been in fights before. I know.”

Namjoo gave him a contemptuous glare. “You still want to brag?”

“I’m not bragging.” Sehun insisted. “Ow!”

curled mockingly. “Sure. Say that again.”

“Do I have to remind you how much blood a human body contains?” Sehun asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Namjoo wrung out the towel and swished it in water again. Squeezing it murderously as she simmered, “He’s not worth it. Why did you even fight?”

“Because he’s an .” Sehun frustratingly let out.

“Then he’s dirty, why’d you want to touch him?” She wiped a smear of blood off his cheek.

Sehun scoffed amused. “You’re funny.”

“Shut up. I’m not done being mad at you.” Namjoo muttered.

“Why are you mad?” he asked. Namjoo cut him a sharp glare that had him swallowing his coming excuse.

Putting a knee up and around him, Namjoo grabbed his chin to turn his face. A bruise was forming near his hairline. She hissed beneath a curse.

“What?” Sehun asked.

Tightening her grip on his chin she refrained his attempt to face her. Cleaning off the debris gently she stopped talking. Who the hell did Jineol think he was to come here and try to woo her back? Only a would give him a second chance.

“But,” Sehun broke the silence, “do you really have to sit like that?”

Leaning back, Namjoo frowned. “Why?”

He was cross legged but she literally had him between her legs. Except the leg that wasn’t around him was bent inwardly.

“It’s just…kind of dangerous.” His voice lowered as his eyes rose up to the corner of his lids.

“You think I want to be suggestive with you right now?” Namjoo scolded. Lightly slapping his leg, she lectured, “The second you saw him, you should have just kicked him out. What are you? A little boy?”

He rubbed his thigh. Finally fuming, “Because he was here to bring up memories with you. Flowers on your first date? He just wanted to make your heart flutter. What if it did? You still remember every moment with him, why wouldn’t you be nostalgic? You loved him so much you endured all those years hoping he’d know how much you’re worth.”

Sehun’s nostrils flared with a final huff as he turned to stare at the surrounding buildings.

Peeling a bandaid she taped it over a wound. “I don’t have antibacterial ointment to help prevent infections, but I cleaned the cut.”

He was right about there being more blood than wounds, but he still had bruises and abrasions all over his face.

“Do you still think of him?” Sehun solemnly asked. He didn’t meet her eyes, as if afraid he would see the truth there.

Namjoo opened another bandaid and plastered it over another cut.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He impatiently questioned.

A passing wind blew loose strands across her eyes. “I did.” She peeked at him. “At first.”

She caught the uneasiness sliding across his expression. That she would waver. When they just started. Becoming more daring about the affection and intimacy growing between them.

“I never wanted to divorce him.” Namjoo confessed and she knew Sehun would hate hearing it, but it was true and he needed to know. “It’s just how it is when you tie the knot with someone. You do it thinking you’ll spend an eternity with them. Like I can think I’d spend the rest of my life with you, but we could break up down the road.”

Sehun stared, firmly saying, “Why would we break up? I will treat you better than him.”

“It’s just an example,” Namjoo explained. “Relax.”

“You’re getting me angry.” He pouted.

Scratching him under the chin, she teased, “You’re so cute.”

Swatting her hand away, he glowered, “Don’t.”

Enjoying his sulking, Namjoo comforted, “But I don’t miss him anymore.” Sehun seemed uncertain. “You told me I deserve better.” Playfully grinning, “Aren’t you the better you talked about?”

Sehun continued with his long face and Namjoo started worrying she was approaching this wrong. She had grown dull with flirting. Now she was just a person who went straight to the point rather than hop around to bask in the tease.

Cupping the back of her hand Sehun urged her toward him. He kissed her softly with yearning.

“Don’t think about him.” he quietly said a breadth away. “I hate that he’s a part of you; that you even married him, and you lived with him; that you loved him.”

“Sehun,” she gently his jaw, “why are you worried?” She gave him a long-drawn peck that burned their lips. “Maybe I should be jealous you think of him so much.”

“What if he comes back?” he hungrily inched forward to kiss her but didn’t.

“Then let him see us.” Stretching out her inward leg Namjoo hooked her arms around his neck, as if reading his need. Sehun leaned forward onto his knees until they naturally went down together.

The box of bandaid slipped over the edge of the table. An outstretched arm shoved the bowl aside hastily sloshing water, but that served as the least of worries. Namjoo hugged him between her legs. Bending her knees up around him, pulling him closer. Resting on his elbows Sehun eagerly tasted the depth of her orifice. The excitement burned as the familiarity of their bodies collided together.

Namjoo whimpered surprised when their middles brushed. Her parted mouth became an open invitation for him. She air when his wet mouth hovered over the side of her face toward her ear.

Suddenly she thought about his skin rubbing hers. Shutting her eyes, she imagined.

They hastily separated upon a shriek. Sitting up they slid away from each other leaving a noticeable gap between them. Namjoo’s heart raced when she recognized the landlady standing at the top of the stairs. Gray haired and in farmer’s pants matched with a t-shirt.

The elder woman yelped again at the sight of Sehun’s marred face. Namjoo offered her best smile. Awkwardly even as she tried to frame it sweetly.

“What is going on?” her scratchy voice inquired. “I was hearing thumping and screaming earlier.”

Both their eyes slid in the direction of the other. Namjoo explained, “It’s nothing.”

“Then why is he all hurt?” the landlady pointed at him.

“It’s nothing.” Namjoo affirmed.

Noticing the tattoo on his arm, she suspiciously narrowed her eyes, “Is he a gangster or something?”

“No, I’m not, ma’am.” Sehun leaned forward suddenly on his knees. “I swear.”

“Why is he here?” the landlady continued her interrogation. “This is a one-bedroom apartment. I don’t allow two people to live here together. Not without payment.”

“Of course,” Namjoo kept her smile. “I know.”

Pointing at him again, “Then who is he?”

Gesturing to him, Namjoo told, “He’s my boyfriend.”

The landlady narrowed her eyes again, as if she didn’t quite believe. “Very well then, but bring your business inside.”

They waited until she disappeared and gave it another half minute before giggling like children. Sliding closer she lightly hit his arm but not strongly enough to hurt him. Curling her legs up she leaned against him as he slid an arm around her.

“At least she seems nice.” Sehun commented.

She laughed before they laid down to stare up at the sky. “Do you want to take a nap?”

“And purposely sleep through midnight?” Sehun joked.

Giggling Namjoo rolled onto her side and lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s like a pillow here.”

Playing with her hair he asked, “Do you want to go on a date this weekend?”

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever we feel like.” He said.

“Ok then.”

“But wear a dress.” He added. “It has to be knee length. If it’s longer than that I’m not taking you out.”

Namjoo craned her neck to look up at him. Aware they both knew why she stayed away from dresses.

“You’ll be pretty anyway.” He tried.

“People will stare.” Namjoo’s brows furrowed.

“Then I’ll just beat them up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too.” He said. He wouldn’t, but he could. “I want to see you in a pretty dress.”