The building was dark and quiet. All the employees of the company had gone home hours ago, except for the night guard who remained at his post right outside the building. The only other person still in the building at that hour was none other than CEO Kim Jongin. He was working over-time again. The handsome and well-groomed thirty-six-year-old was hunched over at his mahogany desk, typing furiously with his eyes trained on the computer screen. His tie was loose around his neck and his blazer was hanging on the backrest of his chair. Stacks of files and paperwork decorated his desk, almost blocking his view of the door to his office. He was no slacker, in fact, it was his hardwork and determination that propelled his career to its current success, but the workload seemed to be endless. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and yawning slightly. He takes a tired glance at the Rolex watch on his wrist and groans.

2:50a.m.

The cup of coffee that sat on his desk had gone cold long ago and his classical music album of choice for the night had looped at least ten times. He still had at least twenty files to look at and thirty pages of paperwork to look over. Standing up, he loosened his tie a little bit more, staring out the full-length window down at the skyline of Seoul. The city was still bustling with life below him, and the people on the streets were rushing around, hurrying to wherever they needed to be. Their lives were fast-paced, much like his, and for a moment he wondered what his life had come to. He thought back to what his good friend, Junmyeon, had said to him a few weeks prior.

"You need to give yourself a break, Jongin. Take things slow for once and just enjoy your life. Take in the things around you. You'd be surprised by how much you've missed while rushing through life."

He placed his palm against his chest, feeling the shark tooth that he wore under his dress shirt.

'Give myself a break and take things slow, huh?' he thought.

Making a decision, he turned back to his desk, picking up his phone and sending out two messages; one to his secretary and one to Junmyeon. Smiling slightly, he took a seat at his desk once more, minimising the document he was editing on his screen and opening the browser to book himself a ticket.

Jongin cautiously took a step off the boat. The sea breeze blew through his hair, carrying the light smell of the ocean along with it. The morning mist hung in the air and the moon still remained in the sky, alongside a few streaks of dawn. He flashed the boatman a polite smile of thanks before starting up a familiar path, suitcase gripped tightly in his hand.

He kept his pace to a stroll, taking in the sights around him. Despite the gloominess of the early morning, the atmosphere seemed more alive than it had been when he was last there. Gone were the boring and plain brown wooden houses. Almost all the houses were painted in bright colours, only a few remaining a dark shade of brown. None of the houses had tall grass hiding the path to them anymore. Instead, neatly trimmed grass and/or flowers took their place.

Although hints of familiarity peeked out from here and there, much had changed since he left.

Change.

It was something he once craved in his youth. It was one of the reasons that drove him to leave his hometown. Everything was too dull, restrictive and repetitive. He wanted to see the world. He wanted do to much more than what this island limited him to. He felt like the island was holding him back from greater things. His family had no problems with moving to the mainland since his sister had already been accepted at a university there and their father’s company was based there.  There was nothing worth staying for.

Well, except for a certain brown-eyed beauty that held his heart. But she alone was not enough of a reason for him to stay. Yet here he was again 18 years later, trying to find what he left behind back then. They did not stay in contact after he left. All he had to remember her by were the memories they shared and a shark tooth necklace they both had. Did he regret leaving? That was a question he could not answer just yet.

“Kim Jongin?” a familiar and kind voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He halted in his steps and turned around to face the source of the voice. The lady before him smiled, eyes twinkling in recognition. “I was sure it was you. You’ve grown so much, my boy.”

Jongin bowed politely to the elder before him. “You look like you haven’t aged at all, Mrs Choi.”

“Don’t flatter me, child.” Jongin grinned as he was enveloped in a warm hug. “Now what brings you back to this humble little island?”

He hesitated for a second before replying softly, “I’m here to look for Seri.”

The smile on the old lady’s face slowly slipped off, a sad and pitiful look replacing it. She took one of his hands in between her palms in a comforting manner.

“You haven’t heard?”

His stomach dropped.

His steps were heavy as he made his way towards the beach. The piece of paper the old lady had given him, an address scribbled on it in neat cursive, was held tightly between his right thumb and index finger. His heart hammered in his chest as he neared the beach. The smell of the ocean was more prominent now than when he had arrived earlier on. With it came a wave of nostalgia. 

A girl and a boy were lying in the shade of a large tree, the girl in the boy’s arms.

“I’ll buy us a house by the beach and we can live there together.”

“We can’t live together unless we get married, silly. My parents would never allow me to live alone with a boy. Even if it’s you, Jongin.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me in the future?” 

“Are you proposing?”

“Maybe.”

A giggle. 

“You’ll have to try harder, Jongin. I won’t be swayed that easily.” She pinched his nose lightly, escaping his embrace and running off to the beach. 

“Hey! Get back here!” He got to his feet and ran after her. He caught up with her easily and scooped her up in his arms, running towards the ocean.

“Jongin!”

He came to a stop when he realised he had reached his destination. He glanced down at the note in his hand once more to confirm that this was indeed it before studying the house before him. It was a simple two-storey house, its exterior was painted in multiple shades of blue while the door and windows were a pristine white. 

“And we’ll paint it blue because you like that colour so much.”

“But you like white.”

“I like you.” He plants a kiss on her forehead. She blushes prettily and pecks him lightly on the cheek in return.

“We’ll paint the walls blue, but the doors and windows white. How about that?”

He let out a shaky breath then began walking towards the main door. He suddenly became very aware of the wrinkles in his shirt caused by his boat ride from the mainland and his messy, wind-blown hair. He puts his suitcase down beside him, stuffing the note into his pocket. He then straightened out his shirt and hurriedly combed his hair back with his hands. He cleared his throat once, fingers twitching nervously before reaching out, fingers clenching into a fist. Then doubt struck.

A long pause ensued. His fist was left up in mid-air, inches away from the door.

He pondered all the possibilities, each scenario he thought up turning increasingly hurtful to his own heart. Had she moved on? Did she get married? After all, 18 years had gone by. Would she still want to see him after what he had done to her? Would she forgive him for leaving her behind all those years ago?

Knowing that all these questions would remain unanswered unless he were to man up and knock on the white rectangular wood in front of him, he took in a deep breath, mustering all the courage he had.

Knock. Knock.