Part IV (532 words)
The Church

After a quick call to what turned out to be Lee Jinki’s personal number, courtesy of Dr. Kim Gwiboon, a meeting place at the church Taemin lived near was decided. The church had been his refuge for years, a second home, and it never failed to comfort him when he was inside alone with his thoughts, especially during times when his nightmares haunted him most.

Now, as he sat alone, he leaned forward, hands clasped together and eyes sealed tight, allowing his whirring thoughts to blur into nothingness until all he could think of was pure, unadulterated white.

“You come here often?”

The sudden sound of a honeyed voice pulls Taemin from his trance, causing him to blink confusedly at the man seated next to him for a few beats; he had short hair, deep red in the light shining from the tall church windows, small brown eyes glinting with a wily playfulness and plush lips pulled into a cunning smile.

The stranger is wearing a white tank top with a low-hanging neckline, and a fitted, black cotton shirt over it that remained ed with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He sat back in a relaxed position, stretched legs clad in washed out jeans worn from use and ripped in all the right places; he exuded this self-confident aura that seemed to brighten the church more than it already was.

The attraction he felt was instantaneous, and if Taemin had not known any better, this man could very well have been an angel simply judging by the ethereal charisma he radiated.

Glancing around, Taemin grasps that they were alone in the church, just rows and rows of empty pews in front and behind them, and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “You’re talking to me?” he asks dumbly.

“Who else?” the stranger responds with a hearty chuckle, eyes turning into crescents and making Taemin’s cheeks blush dark with embarrassment. “Lee Taemin-sshi, am I right?”

Taemin scrutinizes him again for a few moments, still quite stunned. This cannot be Lee Jinki—this casually dressed man with red hair and a knowing smile could not be the person Taemin had been waiting on for the past fifteen minutes. He looked nothing like the retired therapist in his late sixties that Taemin had fashioned from his imagination—instead, he looked twenty-something and fresh out of college, very much like Taemin himself.

“You’re Dr. Lee Jinki?” Taemin asks slowly, unsure. He is put off when the other man nods, holding out his hand confidently to shake.

“That’s me,” Jinki verifies, smile brightening, if that was even possible, “although I’m not a doctor.”

“You… you’re not exactly what I expected,” Taemin replies honestly, enamored by the elder man’s handsome face as he accepts the hand. “I thought you would be much older.” And less good-looking, he adds silently. Taemin blushes again at his own honesty, grateful that the words had remained in his mouth instead of tumbling into the open―that would have been absolutely mortifying.

Jinki nods understandingly, nonchalant. “I get that a lot.” Then he rises abruptly, startling the other man. “Come, let’s head to my office and get down to business, shall we?”