A/N: Thanks for all the comments and reviews. I hope you like the chapter. :)
I now have a Spotify playlist for this fic. If you look me up on AO3 (same username: JodiMarie2910), you should be able to copy the full link from there. Or you can type "I'd Eat Your Heart (But It Might Kill Me)" into the search bar on Spotify, and mine is the only playlist under that name. Or you can copy the following into Google, and it should prompt you to open Spotify:
spotify:playlist:2xOAuH4OWl9ioOwv1ZOavI
The night after Rang slept over at Ga Eul's, curled up on her pillow in his cat form, Yeon's human child emerged into the world at 9:17 P.M. Ha Eun was the name Yeon and Ji Ah had picked for their little girl. It meant great kindness. When Rang called to offer his congratulations, and to tease Yeon about his mother-in-law living in his home for the next month, Yeon informed Rang that he was an uncle now.
An uncle? Rang hadn't thought of it that way. For the past few months, the little girl had been a vague extension of Yeon and Ji Ah; he hadn't thought of her as anything to do with him. But maybe he could get used to it. He could teach her to drive her father crazy with all the little tricks he used to pull as a child. In that light, being an uncle didn't sound so bad.
"It's not as ugly as I thought it would be," he offered by way of grudging acceptance as he eyed the photo Yeon had sent him. A pink bundle of flesh wrapped in a pinker knit blanket. Considering their naked, wrinkly appearance combined with their annoying habits of crying and spitting up everywhere, he supposed babies were never as ugly as they should be, logically.
Yeon only talked for a few minutes, and as preoccupied as he seemed to be with baby matters, Rang didn't have it in him to ask about the letter he'd given Yeon a few weeks back. So he didn't. It wasn't like he needed the answer right away.
Rang still hadn't gotten that charm out of Ga Eul's purse, but he'd decided not to rush things. His constant surveillance of Ga Eul the past few weeks had clued him in to one curious fact: outside of her work, Ga Eul was almost always alone.
He'd spotted her once having lunch with one of the girls from the wedding—not the bride, but the other one. Another time, she'd been having dinner with an older couple he presumed were her parents. But other than that, her time outside the school building was spent in solitude and monotony. If she went out, it was usually to a coffee shop where she would spread her school papers in front of her or crack open a novel. Oddly, she'd never struck him as one to shy away from socializing, and he'd assumed she had a lot of friends because she'd been so friendly with him and with Shin-joo and Yu Ri. She had a kind, open demeanor that tended to draw people in, even complete strangers. He could see it in the delighted way all the bus drivers and café waiters looked at her.
So...solitude by choice, then? Maybe. Or maybe she'd kept meeting assholes like him, as she'd said, and had decided solitude was a safer enterprise. He could relate to that sentiment.
She'd quit tutoring Soo-oh a few weeks ago—he knew that partly because he'd seen her at other places on the days she was supposed to be at his old apartment and partly because he still kept tabs on Soo-oh even though he hadn't visited him or Shin-joo or Yu Ri since he moved out. He hoped Ga Eul hadn't quit because of what he'd said, but she seemed to genuinely care about Soo-oh, and Rang had moved out, so he wasn't sure what to make of her quitting. Other than it left her more alone than she'd been before.
In any event, taking a break from his ill-fortuned thievery, he'd put together a plan to cheer Ga Eul up. After a period of thought—and a large quantity of alcohol—Rang had decided to use what he'd learned about Ga Eul to grant her wish. Sort of. He wouldn't go out with her—not that she'd probably want that at this point—but he'd spent enough time deceiving her already to know he could do plenty of things for her without her knowing.
It wasn't out of remorse. If he started regretting every bad deed he'd ever done to a human, he'd drown in an ocean of self-hate. But if she'd been having a crappy year, he hadn't made it any better, and he wanted her to be happy again. His plan would only take a few weeks. When she seemed to be feeling better, he could take the charm back, and she'd be free to lose herself in the vast city.
Of course, he would still know her schedule, which meant he could run into her anyway.
Not that he would do that.
Certainly not.
Back to the matter at hand.
Rang's surveillance had provided him with an assortment of Ga Eul's interests:
Coffee. (Iced Americanos, specifically.)
Cardigans. (Though he already knew that.)
Flowers. (Though what female human didn't like those?)
Unrealistic love stories. (Though what female human didn't like those?)
Assholes. (Well, she'd said that herself, hadn't she?)
Dramas, movies, books. (Anything to distract herself from real life, he supposed. He'd caught her going to the cinema, alone, three times.)
Cats. (Why?)
Mornings. (Disguised as an old woman, he'd followed her onto the bus a few times, and he'd never seen anyone so cheerful that early in the day. It was terrifying.)
He supposed if she had been anyone else her schedule would have struck him as horrifically boring. Abysmally routine. Where was the intrigue, the challenge? For her, a fun Friday night must consist of a couch full of blankets and a variety show marathon. But she was Ga Eul, and so nothing about her could be boring. Not to him. She made chewing pens look seductive, and he didn't want to examine that thought too closely.
This human was truly inconvenient. He should have been planning one last con against humanity just to piss Taluipa off; instead he found himself staked out at her favorite coffee shop the Monday morning after he'd learned her cat died. She came there some mornings, but not all, to get her coffee before school, and on that particular Monday morning, she walked up to the counter and was informed she'd won a café giveaway. Free pastries for a week. From over the top of the physical newspaper he'd used to complete his old man disguise, he watched her point at her chosen treat and break into a smile of delight as the café worker took it from the glass display and boxed it up for her.
Of course, she hadn't really won anything. As himself, he'd arranged for the pastries to be charged to his account, and now he owed the café owner a favor, but that was another matter for another time.
Over the course of the week, Rang learned she liked croissants and cream cakes. On Friday, she even sat down in the café, where she sipped on her coffee and licked bits of white cream from the sides of her mouth. She got cream on her nose at one point and blushed when she saw her reflection in the window before snatching up a napkin to dab the cream away. Unfortunately, she also caught Rang staring, and he quickly averted his gaze. No doubt she thought she was being stalked by a dirty old man.
It wasn't far from the truth. Someone was stalking her—someone dirty, and partially a man, and in human years, quite old.
The weather had turned colder, and Ga Eul had taken to wearing thick woolen coats with scarves that would swallow up her face if she ducked her chin down. It would be Christmas in a few weeks, and cafés on every corner were promoting ssaeng-cream cakes for the couples' holiday. The kind of cake Ga Eul had ordered for herself—whipped cream, sponge cake, and strawberries.
Having been alive for far longer than that particular holiday had been around, or been adopted from the West, or been commercialized to fill up hotels and fancy restaurants, Rang had never bothered with the holiday himself, except to grant favors to lovesick humans desperate for their affections to be returned. Rang had questionable methods, but he always got results. For a price, of course. A steep one.
Wandering around his old hunting grounds, he couldn't help but notice a few likely candidates.
There was the young woman complaining to her girlfriends that her boyfriend still hadn't proposed, though that was simple enough to arrange and a bit bland because of it. Then there was the man discreetly checking the price tags on all the purses in the store Rang had entered. His shoes and suit were well-maintained but old, and he tapped his fingers nervously against his leg every time a salesgirl approached to ask if she could help with anything. Interesting.
In a corner of the same store, a middle-aged woman was whispering into her phone, and though he was sure no one else could hear her, he could. She was convinced her husband was cheating on her with someone from his office and had hatched some sort of plan to uncover his fidelity on the holiday. Her desperation was so palpable he could almost taste it.
He stepped in her direction out of habit, but then his eyes caught on the cardigans hanging on the rack next to her. What he had come in there for. Right.
"Will that be all?" the salesman asked as he carefully folded the caramel-colored cashmere cardigan and put it in a bag.
"That's all." Rang handed over his card, and the salesman asked if the cardigan was for Rang's girlfriend.
Rang said nothing. He gave the man a look that said none of your business, and the man cleared his throat and looked down at the register.
The package arrived at Ga Eul's apartment door on the following Tuesday, addressed to her but without a return address. She frowned at it and inspected the box, probably trying to remember if she had ordered anything, but eventually shrugged and took it inside.
Despite the present's unknown origins, she must have liked it because she wore the cardigan on Saturday when she came to the coffee shop to work on her papers. She shrugged off her heavy wool coat, and it was wrapped around her, the color an exact match to her favorite scarf, as he had expected. What he hadn't expected was that she would look even more beautiful in the cardigan than he'd envisioned in the store. He'd guessed on the size, but it fit her perfectly.
The days passed quickly after that. Ga Eul won a few concert tickets in a drawing she hadn't entered, and a mysterious stranger paid for her dinner at her favorite restaurant. Her favorite chocolates appeared at random tucked inside her desk drawer, and for a week she always had someone friendly to sit next to on the bus.
Sitting with her on the bus had been the worst idea, admittedly, because Rang had been forced to talk to her but also forced to lie about his identity. He should have given it up after the first day, but he'd gotten her to smile at him again, and like a puppy eager for a treat, he'd shown up again the next day. And the next. And the next.
The following Saturday, Rang overslept and missed his hair appointment, which was about all he had to look forward to as himself those days. At noon he found himself in a coffee shop—not Ga Eul's café but a different one—staring out the window at passerby and feeling generally irritated. Ga Eul seemed to be feeling better, but he was feeling worse. Talking with her on the bus had awakened something in him, some desperate longing to talk to her as himself again, and he couldn't tamp it down with all the logic and self-loathing and denial in the world.
Frustrated, Rang drank the last of his iced coffee down until he found himself sucking air through his straw. When he set the cup of ice down, as though he'd summoned her there by his thoughts, he saw her crossing the street. Ga Eul, clutching a book to her chest as she wound her way through a throng of people. A moment later, she stepped into the coffee shop that was very much not her regular coffee shop on the heels of two teenage girls.
Rang supposed he could have bolted, could have disguised himself, easily enough. But he froze.
She didn't notice him at first but approached the counter to order. He watched her chat with the girls in line ahead of her and then with the male barista, who seemed far too interested in her choice of beverage.
Rang tensed, then caught himself. Wasn't the whole idea so she could move on with someone else?
But not the barista.
Rang huffed.
Not the fucking barista checking out her ass when she turned her back.
An eternity passed before her drink was made and placed in her outstretched hand. She turned all the way around and scanned the tables. Her gaze landed on him...and passed right over him. No sign of recognition. Except...she walked towards his table, eyes straight ahead. Brushing past him without a word, without a glance at his face, she took a seat behind and diagonal to him, off to his left, though she faced away from him.
And why would she possibly have done a thing like that? She could have avoided him entirely if she'd wanted to, even though she'd seen him there. It was a large, open café.
She wanted to talk to him; that was the only explanation. And he couldn't wait for a better opening than that. Rang let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
Approaching her table awkwardly, though Rang was never awkward, he asked, "Miss Ga Eul?...Miss Ga Eul?...Sorry to bother you, but...may I sit for a minute?"
She didn't answer, just flipped a page in her book, so he sat down anyway.
"Miss Ga Eul?" he tried again.
"Mister Lee Rang." She didn't look up at him, but a cloyingly sweet smile played on her lips. "Am I invited to talk to you today?"
At her tone, Rang paused. Perhaps because he'd never heard her speak with anything but warmth and fondness. Now, her voice dripped with disdain as she continued, "Because you're not invited to talk to me. Please find somewhere else to sit."
He studied her face closely. She was enjoying this, this scrap of power she held over him in that moment. Which could only mean she still liked him, at least enough to be upset with him. The thought pleased him.
"If you didn't want me to talk to you," he answered smoothly, "you wouldn't have chosen a table so close to me. There's plenty of empty tables on the other side of this café."
She pursed her lips but said nothing, keeping her eyes on her book.
Silence ensued.
"I wanted to...apologize...for the other day." He forced the words out; his mouth was suddenly dry, not used to such sincerity.
"Apologize? It's been weeks." He could tell she was trying to keep her voice level, but there was a hard edge to it. Not bitterness. Annoyance, perhaps. He glanced down at her purse, which was lying on the ground next to her chair. How many stupid things had he tried to get even this close to that powder blue bag? Perhaps he should have approached her as himself from the beginning. Apologized and...and what? He wasn't any good at apologies.
"I know. I'm sorry. I was...having a bad day. And then...then I didn't know what to say. How to make up for it."
"And now?".
"Now what?"
Ga Eul sighed, still keeping her eyes on her book.
"Now you suppose you can make up for it?"
"Uh...well..." He trailed off, his mind going blank for once.
"Never mind." Ga Eul shook her head and stood. She collected her book, her purse, and her coffee. "I hope you have a good life, Mister Lee Rang."
"Wait!"
Ga Eul stopped but didn't turn around for so long that Rang feared she might keep walking.
She didn't. Eventually, she half-turned towards him, her face angled over shoulder, and answered, "Yes?" She looked directly at him for the first time, and hope shone in her eyes, hope tempered with hesitance.
"I don't live with Yu Ri and Shin-joo anymore. You don't have to quit tutoring Soo-oh."
The hope in her eyes died as quickly as it had come. Obviously, that had not been what she'd wanted to hear.
"I didn't stop tutoring Soo-oh because of you," she answered quietly.
Rang frowned.
"Then why?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I needed to take some time for myself."
"Still...if you made a promise, don't you think you should see it through to the end? Don't you think Soo-oh's been through enough?" The quip flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. That wasn't what he'd meant to say, but he...didn't know how to do this. Have a conversation where he wasn't trying to put a human on the defensive. And now he couldn't take it back. Crap.
"Don't bring Soo-oh into this. You haven't even seen him since you moved out."
How did she know that? She must have remained in contact with Yu Ri. Still, Rang hated the accusatory tone in her voice, like she knew anything about the whole damn situation. She was a pitiful human, so blind to everything that was happening right in front of her. She knew nothing.
"Don't pretend to know me," he shot back, "or anything about what I do."
"Then don't pretend to know me." She pursed her lips again, and the fire returned to her eyes. "You know, people have been really nice to me lately. I think it's the universe, finally rewarding me after years of putting up with assholes like you." She turned on her heel and flounced out the door without giving him a chance to reply. And perhaps he should have followed her and apologized again. Or at least finished the argument so she could never say she'd had the last word. But a part of him was stuck on the mere pleasure of talking to her, even if he'd only behaved like an idiot and been scolded for it.
A minute later he caught sight of himself in the window, twirling his empty coffee cup around by the straw and grinning like an idiot.
He pushed the cup away.
It was time.
Or it would have been time to finally, finally recover the charm if Yeon hadn't called Rang out of the blue to discuss Rang's 'situation.'
"I'm surprised to see you still alive," Rang commented, slouching down in the seat across from Yeon in the same coffee shop, several hours later.
"Why do you think I wanted to meet at a coffee shop?" Yeon took another gulp of the iced coffee in front of him. There were dark circles around his eyes, but he looked happy. In fact, Rang might even describe him as glowing.
How nauseating.
"Yeah, but I'm guessing you're not here to listen to me whine. You probably get enough of that these days." Rang grinned at the thought of Yeon being woken up at all hours by his clever niece. "So what do you want?"
Yeon eyed him tiredly over his coffee, as if thinking through his next words, then sighed and produced Rang's letter—the one he'd handed Yeon several weeks earlier—out of his coat pocket.
"No," he said, sliding the opened envelope across the table.
"You read my offer?" Rang's eyes narrowed, though he could have expected as much. He should have, really.
"It wasn't what I expected," Yeon replied. "You're telling me you want to offer hundreds of years of service to break one soulmate charm for a human? Why?"
"Just give it to Granny. Tell me when you've got the new contract."
"Why? What's so important about this human?"
"If I thought that was any of your concern, I would have told you instead of trusting you not to open a sealed letter of official afterlife business." Rang scoffed. "So much for brotherly trust."
"Of course I opened it! I knew you would do something stupid."
"Oh?" Rang bristled. "Is that what you think of me? I'm still a kid you have to snatch away from a monster's clutches? Don't you have your own kid to worry about now?"
"You're my little brother. No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little brother. And I won't do it. The purpose of that contract was to give you a chance at reincarnation. And now you're throwing it away because—"
"I'm not throwing anything anyway." Rang raised his voice. "I never asked to get reincarnated. You're the one who was pushing—"
"Because I'm not going to lose you again!"
Rang forced out a hollow laugh, but he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice when he replied, "You're a human now. I think I'm going to lose you, not the other way around."
Yeon gave him an exasperated stare.
"What? It's true," Rang noted; he couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice. Part of him was still upset with Yeon for giving up his immortality.
"Why don't you want to get reincarnated?" his brother asked.
"Because I've been stuck in this shitty world long enough," Rang spat.
Yeon paused, taking Rang's measure with that unnervingly calm expression he always used when making an observation Rang would rather he not.
"No," Yeon continued, with a slight shake of his head. "No, that's not it. You're punishing yourself."
"What?"
"You are. That's why you moved out of Yu Ri and Shin-joo's apartment, isn't it? You don't think you deserve to be part of a family."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You think if you don't get reborn, it'll be some kind of poetic justice for all the people you've hurt." Shifting in his chair, Yeon leaned in towards Rang, and Rang followed suit, refusing to be stripped bare by Yeon's accusations.
"I think it's getting late, and you should be getting back to your kid, and I should be going." Rang pushed back his chair and stood. Yeon remained seated.
"You can't run from yourself forever," his brother argued. But he was wrong. Rang was good at running. He'd been running his whole life. From angry villagers. From flesh-eating zombies. From fires. From death. Even when he'd so recently reinserted himself into Yeon's life, he'd been running away from his brother. From the pain of abandonment.
He was good at running.
"Good night, hyung," Rang answered. "Get some sleep. You look awful."
Rang wasn't sure where he'd ended up. When he'd left the coffee shop, he'd turned to the right and kept walking. That had been several hours ago, and now it was dark except for the streetlights casting an eerie glow over the pavement. He'd always liked the dark because his night vision gave him an advantage. But now that there was nothing to have an advantage over—there was literally not another soul in sight—he was irritated. There was nothing to vent at. He hated that there might be some truth to what Yeon had said, and darkness usually made him feel like he could hide from anything, even himself. But not tonight.
He wished he could beat the crap out of someone like the old days, but even if he could without consequence, there was no opportunity. Where the hell had everyone gone? He could hear his own footsteps with how creepily silent it was on the backstreet he'd meandered onto.
Except...his ears pricked. He could hear something, a faint cry, a muffled one. The sound drifted to him on a thin breeze from two streets over. He had crossed the distance before he could even place the sound. He knew that voice, and when he reached its source he realized why.
What was Ga Eul doing there in the dead of night, blocks and blocks away from her apartment?
And who the hell did this bastard think he was—the one holding Ga Eul's waist in a death grip while she squirmed against him? His hand covered her mouth, muffling the sound of her screaming. He was trying to pull her into an alley, but when he saw Rang he froze, then shoved Ga Eul off to the side and would have bolted, except that Rang was, of course, too fast for him. Rang had him pinned up against the wall with his claws at the man's throat before the bastard could take two steps in the opposite direction.
"Ah, what perfect timing." Rang offered the man a humorless smile. "I was just itching to beat up a piece of shit."
