His nostrils quivered, the frosty morning misting his eyes. He tightened a black scarf around his neck, the soft material shielding him from the chill. The window before him gleamed as the clambering sun shoved itself upward, its rays striking the glass. On display were old knick-knacks, antiques, things of old long forgotten and void of demand. Dark swirling irises scrutinized the objects, memorizing each crook and nanny visible from its proximity; there was much to learn from the past. Cold, he his hands deep into his pockets, incapable of simply vacating the area - so rooted was he to his spot.

It was a fresh window display that his gaze met and he was determined to have his fill of the sight. He wasn't sure when he developed this new pastime, he felt old, ancient even, as he merely stared at shop's displays. While he had been prepared to brace the day with his scarf the sight of an elderly man trembling in the open cold was reason enough to rip it off and bestow it upon him. The man's chipped smile was a hearty payment on its own.

A cough seized his body, and he remembered he should be more careful of his health for the sake of his career if anything. He had always been his own, this newfound hobby a personal pleasure and a maintenance of sanity, so he was far more than startled at the emergance of a white-dotted handkerchief in front of his grimaced features. Although he had not known from whence the cloth had come from, he gratefully received it and dutifully used it. A turn to his left, and he saw her - standing beside him, leaning over to peek at the assortment of priceless antiques, her attention rapidly abating from the young man she handed her handkerchief to. Her eyes shone radiantly as they examined the contents of the store.

Perturbed, he watched her, his mouth covered by the linen cloth. And, shortly after, his focus was once more upon the window. No words were spoken between the two, they only remained enthralled by what their eyes caught. She was the first to leave, the message left on her phone pulling her to where she was needed. He had forgotten her presence, her absence no disturbance to his peace, however, he unconsciously clutched her offering tightly, and she resurfaced in his memories. The young man released a sigh, and silently hoped she would return another time soon, he did not want to be branded as a man of ill will, untrustworthy, oh, the endless nonsense.

---

Wind whipped her face, slashing mercilessly, her blonde strands billowing rebelliously in the vicious weather. She stood outside the exact antique's shop as the other day, her focus rapt and honed in on the watch settled against the corner of the display. There were clearly new untold treasures before her very eyes and she could not pull herself away, so awed was she. She was joined by an odd fellow, with an interest at window marveling. He gently returned her handkerchief, the material clean and soft to the touch.

Their hands collided, and she decided to give him a once-over. She figured he was no older than herself, his face rounded, squared at the jaw, his eyes unflinching, a deep brown, his lips rosy in the cold. She had seen his face amongst the throngs of other idols, but decided she should not let slip his name in this world. Her head bowed and the pair continued their peculiar hobby. If she presumed correctly, he did not want to be reminded of the reality he dwelled in, this was a simple escape she could not threaten. Ah, but the hollow look in his expression told her everything. How quaint, she desired the same.

---

When they met at the same window display once more, albeit brief, it had begun to snow. His attention wavered and gave her a once-over. Her narrow eyes shamelessly devoured the scene in front of them, her small, plump lips pursed, almost sly. She resembled a feline, her ferocity vivid and ignited when she conquered the stage. Her thin frame was bundled in moutainous jackets, bulking her size. He didn't interrogate her, he didn't mind her presence, he didn't bother with pleasantries.

They had failed to exchange words altogether, the idea maddening at the time. As the falling snowflakes increased, decorating their faces in white tidbits, he noticed her breathe onto her hands, possibly numb. He wasn't certain when she had diverted him away from the odd knick-knacks, and he refused to pursue the matter. Her lips pressed against her hands and he snatched them in an instant, quickly sliding on his worn gloves. She gave him a small smile meant to thank him graciously, however, it turned out to be so bright and loving it startled him. 

The next time they met, she had found him on the subway prior their usual meeting schedule. With eyes twinkling, she had dragged him along on a 'short-cut' that had turned out to be ridiculously long, and met with a slew of shenanigans. He found himself ducking, running, dodging, slipping, jumping! They ended up on crashing into a few crowds, they got separated in crowds. He never thought he would be eating noodles sitting on top of a miniature bucket. If anything, by the time they arrived at their usual spot, it had become too late and the shop was closed - without light to give the figurines any life. So, she took him to get ice-cream, and other sweets. The day was quite thrilling. To be frank, he had let the display slip from his mind long ago and when she gripped his hand, he forgot everything else.. 

She certainly kept their adventures on a roll, and he was lost in her. 

---

Rain splattered her face, drenching her entire body, soaking her to the bone. Teeth chattered beyond control and she sneezed in several fits. It was probably bizarre that she stood outside the window shop in the pouring rain without so much as a jacket on. Only, she wasn't oogling the display this time around. Rather, Chaerin found herself trembling anxiously, searching for the young man she had come to stand idly by outside this particular window, his gloves tightened in her grasp. He had lent her the gloves during the rush of snow, and so used to having them she had forgotten they were not hers.

Her teeth gnawed on her lips. What if he did not come today? The weather was awful, she should not even be there. She had not much time left. Rain ceased to pelter her face, bewildered, she turned around, and saw him - holding an umbrella over her drenched form. Perhaps she should have thought out her actions prior to throwing herself at him, his warmth so very enticing. He was stunned, in all of their meetings they had seldom touched, and while the contact was not so distasteful it was still very strange.

She calmed, and stepped aside, not before returning his offering from so long ago. "Thank you. I should have given them back sooner, but I got a little carried away." They were the first words she ever spoke to him, melliflous and strong. He eyed her in response. "Thank you for allowing me to be here. I just wanted to let you know it was greatly appreciated." Tears filled her eyes and he wasn't sure why or rather, he wasn't sure why he even bothered to notice such minute details. "I won't be back for sometime. Scope out those products for the both of us, alright?" His body moved on a will of its own and handed her his umbrella. But she refused, 'no', she mouthed. And she left him in the rainstorm to resume what had once been a personal pastime. However, he found himself dazed and chose to walk away.

---

His breath fanned out in front of him, the cold of the day hitting him. He sat on the olive-green bench across that favorite antique's shop he had visited once upon a time. The sky was clear and he settled comfortably in his seat, his eyes shutting closed. He did not bother acknowledging the person that chose to sit beside him, he was exhausted and he had no wish to converse.

"You know, I never thought that dainty shop would ever close. It had been open for so long..."

Age had molded him into a proper adult, surprises something he could handle without bursting into childish reactions.. He faced his lingering companion.

"Things can change after seven years."

She sighed, and peered up at the blue sky. "Yes, but you always hope they never will. Did you fulfill this girl's foolish request?"

"Hm, yes, I suppose I did."

"I'm sorry for naming such a request. Thank you, though."

"Why did you leave?"

"Ah, you know, this is the most we've ever spoken amongst ourselves."

"Chaerin."

She smiled softly. "My father had been ill. It escalated, it worsened, and so I left. He needed me."

"For seven years?"

"I had forgotten what it was like before my career.What it was like to be simply 'Chaerin'. I devoted myself to caring for my father and remained as an ordinary citizen. I lived out a short, but sweet average life. But seven years was probably a bit too long."

"Far too long."

"Yes, forgive me."
 

"No. After all those days, how could I have possibly accustomed myself to your absence?"

"Yongguk-"

"And when I was prepared to share even more, you had the audacity to leave. To leave. What made you think it was okay to go off without telling me anything?"

She remembered he had appeared so forlorn, and lost on his own. He had suffered due to the loss of someone precious, close, loving. Oh.

"Stop. Just stop!" She cried exasperated, overloaded with emotions and memories. "Don't you pull this on me. We never communicated, where is this coming from?"

He latched onto her wrists and pulled her forward. "Not through words. Never through words." Before she could process his statement, he kissed her, roughly, vigorously.

"You were the only one to understand," He whispered in between kisses. "The only one to know me. All without conversing with me. I'm sorry for accepting you so late."

"It's been seven years."

"You were worth remembering." 

 

She grasped onto him, her body threatening to give out. "I'm too old for this." She murmured against his chest. He laughed and held her, hoping she would not leave him again. Although, he figured she would stay, he did, afterall, possess ownership of that little antique shop. Not that he would inform her until later. If that wasn't a trump card, he would have to work wonders with his gummy smile.