A/N: I loved Ep. 9 SO MUCH. OTP.
She hears him inside her head.
They started sharing something, somehow, and now she thinks of him whenever she does what she does best.
He's the one believed her. And she always surprises him, but he never seems frightened.
That's what surprises her.
.
She hears him inside her head, and she knows now to always keep eye contact. He told her that, with his hair tangled and damp against his forehead, both of them breathing heavy and close, close, close. Circling, fists raised, and it felt like knowing another person better than she'd ever known almost anyone.
Always keep eye contact.
It means she'll know the next move.
But she didn't know his next move, didn't know until he was crumpling in her arms, bleeding, his face taut with pain.
His eyes only met hers after.
.
She cannot make sense of him. He is a genius, and a child, but his face goes stern when he thinks she can't see him. He whines endlessly; sometimes she has a sneaking suspicion that it is all for show, that the things he complains of are never the things that hurt him.
And there are so many things that can hurt him. Bong Soon knows well the frailties and failings of the rest of the world.
He always talks so much, but he says so little when he falls, and nothing at all when his hand closes over hers, over the wound, as though she is the one who needs to be comforted.
.
Min Hyuk, she finds herself mouthing in the sunset hours, just as she used to mouth Guk Doo. And what, what can that mean?
The first time they trained, he had her down on the mat, and his lips were so near to hers, and his hands were pinning her, close, close, close.
She'd felt weak at the knees. As though she, Bong Soon, could feel weak at the knees.
She'd never let him pin her down again; it is too dangerous.
(They might say too much if they say nothing at all.)
.
His family does not love him.
There is a part of her that understands, but only a part—she may not have a loving mother, but she has father, twin, grandmother. Friends.
He has almost nobody. No one but his secretary and his company and—and—
You, the Min Hyuk inside her head whispers, and now she can see him, too, eyes piercing hers. I have you.
She prays at his bedside, as she never prayed to Buddha in the ridiculous trips to the temple with her mother.
Let him live.
.
Being vexed at him when he makes a mountain out of his troubles—it is a relief. It is familiar. She teases him, he is terrifically offended. She leaves the room; he demands her return.
She is only tongue-tied around him when she helps him off with his shirt. Min Hyuk was not lying; he has taken care of his body.
She is human, after all. She stares until he notices and then she turns red and washes his hair a little too roughly.
.
They almost kissed. It is all she thinks of, in the moments before sleep when they lie in silence, facing each other. (Always keep eye contact.)
And what, what can it mean?