It's been a hot minute and I've missed this fandom so very much! I hope life has been kind to you all and I hope you're doing spectacular.
Here's an ancient draft from two years ago that I never got around to posting. Probably hated it back then and hid it away (and for good reason? haha)
Enjoy
(Updated. For some reason all the dividers disappeared when I uploaded earlier.)
Walking in, she instantly spots him towards the back of the coffee-shop near the restrooms. She slides her body across the cracked seats of the booth, the plastic digging into the skin of her thighs. Not looking at him, she stretches the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles and gazes out the window blankly. Rain hits the glass pane, a hard, rhythmic pelting.
He rakes his fingers through his hair, unable to mask his anxiousness.
"Why are you leaving?" he asks her softly.
"Do you really want to know?"
Ha-Jin shuffles into her living room with bare feet, a warm mug of green tea clutched between her fingers.
The floor is cold as she crouches down to light an incense stick in the corner. Sleep still clouds her eyes as she watches the light tendrils of smoke rise. Perfume fills the air in seconds.
After a few sips, she sets down her near-empty mug and rolls out her yoga mat. Her eyes flick to the digital clock as she positions herself at the top of the mat.
5:08 AM.
She's still got twenty-two minutes to herself before she has to jump into the shower. Slowly, she moves into downward-facing dog and the pose does its trick instantly - she feels her back open out, the tendons in her legs stretch, her entire body perking up.
Her anxiety has been off the charts since her return from the hospital. Her body riddled with aches and pains, emotional trauma physically manifesting. The doctor recommended she incorporate yoga, perhaps even meditation, into her daily routine. Why not. It wouldn't hurt to try, he said. Because routine was good. Routine was safe…sane.
And so now every morning before work, Ha-Jin rolls out her mat and contorts herself into the myriad shapes she now knows by heart. She hasn't missed a day since.
The subway ride home is long and quiet and Ha-Jin is tired. The soft chatter of commuters and the detached whir of the moving vehicle are all oddly comforting. She is almost tempted to drift to sleep.
About four feet away, a man in his late twenties, clad in a tailored pin-stripe suit, stands facing the opposite window with long fingers wrapped around a metal pole to steady himself as he scrolls through his phone. The dull blue glow from the screen illuminates his angular features in the window pane.
It could be her mind playing tricks on her after a long day's work but she could swear there's something captivatingly familiar about him.
And she must've been staring because when he catches her eye in the window's reflection, he smirks at her. Quickly, she looks away, cheeks burning a swift scarlet.
She must really be losing it.
She spends the rest of the ride studying the shoes of the elderly lady seated across her. Crocs have never been more interesting to Ha-Jin.
Three stops later, she alights on the platform and notices one particular passenger follow suit in her peripheral vision.
"Excuse me, miss!" he calls out from behind her.
It's late and Ha-Jin is not in the mood for games, nor to get murdered, for that matter. She hasn't got time for this. She's got bills to pay and a grumpy cat to feed so she tightens her grip on the shoulder-strap of her satchel and keeps walking.
Shit. He starts jogging up to her so she quickens her pace. Her heels aren't helping.
"Miss!" he calls again.
Ha-Jin spins around, ready to give him a piece of her mind, when she comes face to face with a broad chest. She has to tilt her chin up to look into his face. He's tall. Very tall. Amusement twinkles in his eyes and plays at the corner of his full mouth.
"You've got some fast legs there."
"Pardon?"
"You dropped this."
Her keys are in his outstretched palm.
Oh.
"Um…thank you." She feels silly all of a sudden. Maybe she should apologize for running away?
"I'm so- " she starts.
"It's impolite to stare, you know."
Ha-Jin purses her lips. "Excuse me?"
"On the subway," he clarifies as if she were an idiot, "very bold of you to openly appraise a total stranger."
"Very bold of you to assume I was staring!" she replies curtly. "I zoned out for a second, it was a long ride. I don't have to explain myself to you!"
His face breaks into a lopsided grin.
"Thanks again for the keys," she huffs before turning away.
A large hand shoots out quickly, circling her left wrist. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asks her, lifting a dark brow.
The nerve.
She looks at him this time. Really, really looks at him…and the similarities are so…uncanny. Especially those eyes.
Impossible.
"I'm sorry. I-I have to go," she stammers. When his grip slackens, she practically bolts away, leaving him standing on the platform, staring after her.
Heart hammering in her chest, Ha-Jin spares him one last glance over her shoulder as she ascends the escalator.
It can't be.
Taking another deep breath, she flows into cobra pose, her arms slightly shake as she goes through the motions of her sun salutations, but this is good for her.
Ha-Jin feels her lungs expand and the distinct scent of incense awakens memories long forgotten…flashes of color…echoes of long-ago visits to palace gardens and royal altars jar her mind.
It's always the small triggers.
"You came."
"Only because you promised to stop stalking me."
"I'm not stalking you."
"Am I supposed to believe you were in such urgent need of vitamin-C face serum? You waltzed into my workplace. Looking for me!"
"What would you like to drink?"
"Nothing. Look, this isn't a good idea. I don't know why I even agreed to this. I barely know you. "
"That's not true, we've met before."
She starts to slide the strap of her bag back over her shoulder.
"Wait, wait wait...please, won't you stay? Just for a quick chat, I promise."
He glances over her shoulder and gestures for the waiter to come over. She notices his neatly tucked in white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms.
"What'll you have?"
"A cappuccino's fine."
"A cappuccino for the lady please and I'll take a double-shot espresso."
"I should've known. Researchers say one way to spot a psychopath is through their coffee order and bitter black coffee is typically their beverage of choice."
He raises an eyebrow at her.
Blushing, she clears her throat. "How did you find me?"
"It wasn't easy to track you down. I had to search through fifteen branches in this city until I found yours."
The horror on her face must be evident because he immediately backtracks. "Listen, you should know that I don't normally track down strangers I lock eyes with on public transport. I just…I had to find you."
"Why?"
"Do you believe in fate?"
She rolls her eyes, decides to humor him. "You knew where I worked though. What gave me away?"
"Your uniform."
"Ah, right..." She taps her fingers on the table one following the other. "Well you said it was important. What did you want to talk about?"
"Anything," he shrugs before leaning forward on his elbows. "Everything."
Her memory is a blur, the past a fading dream and nothing to prove if any of it was real. Transience has become her enemy. Her visions come and go in dreams so wild and vivid and elusive, they're almost impossible to pin down, but they almost always cause her to wake up in tears.
"You know who I am, right?"
"You must be mistaken. We've never met before, at least not before that day on the subway."
Sometimes, when she is lucky, the sights, sounds and smells all start to meld together like shards of mosaic, until she can almost grasp the faint details of an era so phantasmal and ancient they can only belong to history.
"I am very rarely, if ever, mistaken. And we've met before. Albeit it has been a while…hasn't it, Hae Soo?"
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
"Who are you and what do you want?"
Trying to make sense of everything feels a lot like when she was five, when she stuck her chin up at the sky trying to trace the outline of the afternoon sun…all too bright and garish and the harder she tried, the quicker it blinded her until she was left with nothing but burning lids and confusion.
"It took me a while to remember but I'd know that face anywhere. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hae Soo."
"It's Ha-Jin now actually."
"Ah…now," he taunts, noting her accidental acknowledgement. "How quaint."
"I must go now . Please do not contact me."
Four cycles later, with her tank-top drenched in sweat, Ha-Jin finally comes down to her knees for child's pose. Gently resting her forehead on the mat, she closes her eyes and cries.
Her recollections are fickle. And it scares her because unless she visits them often she just knows they will fade, and with them the very best of everyone who blessed her life in Goryeo will vanish from her mind - the head sanggung's motherly affection, the eleventh prince's child-like spirit, a masked prince's kiss - as if none of it ever happened. She needs those memories to stay with her, she needs them to soothe her when the bad ones threaten to erase all traces of those people she still holds dear, even in their absence.
When she answers his call, he tells her that it is the same for him. He says they need each other. They will help each other remember, piece together this living dream and nightmare.
So when he asks to see her again, she acquiesces.
"That would mean…there were thirteen princes then?"
"Fourteen. You're forgetting the youngest one. Jung."
"Oh, right...and somehow I have a sense you're royalty too. Were royalty."
"Correct. Most likely a prince too. Just a hunch."
They continue to play therapist to one another.
He makes great company and he is pleasant enough. Ha-Jin starts to look forward to their meetings which have become increasingly regular. She realizes it is the only time she can speak freely. Nothing that she says fazes him and he doesn't judge. Still, he doesn't tell her who he was in that lifetime, claims he doesn't know.
"But you still can't recall which one you were?"
"Not a clue."
"Hmm…well do you remember ever being fascinated with masks or…having any particular scars that might've stood out?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, Ha-Jin."
She stops asking after the eighth week. For some reason, she has a nagging feeling in her gut that she might not actually want to know. Perhaps it might not even matter after all. She doesn't have to find out.
She finds out.
Before she can stop herself, a long-forgotten name falls from her lips in a horrified whisper.
"Jeongjong."
Across the dinner table, all amusement dies from the man's face.
"What did you say?" His brows furrow as he pins her to her seat with his piercing gaze.
"W-was that you? Is that what they called you?"
"No."
"You're full of shit."
"It wasn't my choice."
Her chair violently scrapes back as she recoils. "No."
He rises with her.
"Ha-Jin- "
"No, no, no…not you! Anyone else but you!"
"Calm down. What are you talking about?"
How could she have been so stupid. She'd actually hoped that…what? What exactly had she hoped for? Redemption? Good karma? A clean slate?
"This isn't right! It was never supposed to be you. If someone were ever to follow me back from Goryeo, it would've been So!"
"Soo-yah, you're overreacting."
"Stop telling me how to feel!"
"You remember everything by now, yes?" She's shaking. Somehow everything's ruined. "And everyone?"
He nods once and her fist meets his face. The instant her knuckles connect with his aristocratic nose, she hears a sickening crunch. Satisfaction flows through her veins.
"Good! I hope you understand how much pain you caused them! All of us!"
He's bleeding.
"You thief! Murderer! You tyrant! You ruined so many lives with your greed! I hope you pay for all your crimes in this life and the next!"
She's crying.
"How dare you show your face here! How dare you come after me and speak to me! After everything!"
He's bleeding. She's crying.
In another lifetime, it could've been the other way around. She forgets.
His touch burns. Brands her skin until she can no longer escape him, until she accepts that she belongs to no one else…has never belonged to anyone else but him.
She wonders if she is a sell-out for seeking what is familiar…fated…forbidden.
And she hates him. She does. Has to.
What else can she do when it's the only sane decision tethering her to this world and the last. Oh how she wishes she hated him more than she actually hates herself.
Her fingers are tangled in his hair. "I never wanted this," she moans into his ear, hips desperately shifting against him. "Not with you."
"I know." He bites down on the soft spot between her neck and shoulder, just hard enough to make her gasp. "But I'm all you have right now."
"Are you all right?" His voice rumbles through the bathroom door, deeply concerned.
She's hyperventilating on the other side, tears streaming down her face. Ha-Jin's body trembles as she stares at the gold bracelet around her wrist, half expecting it to burn through her skin.
Foolish boy.
She's disgusted by him. She's in love with him.
"Please come out."
She's disgusted with herself. She needs him.
When she finally exits, she finds him slumped against the wall on the other side of the room. He's carefully scanning her, brows drawn in evident unease.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes…yes, I…was just overwhelmed, that's all. It's beautiful. Thank you."
He folds her into his strong arms and she weeps. "I'm sorry. I feel as though I'm losing my mind," she sobs into his chest. She's staining his baby blue shirt with mascara and the bracelet weighs heavy as she clutches him tightly around the waist.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
He kisses the top of her head and his embrace tightens. "So am I."
Silvery wisps of steam rise from the cup clutched between her hands.
She lifts it close, pink lips delicately pursed as she softly blows over the rim. Her lashes flick up at him and then down before taking a sip.
"You're staring again, Yo," she notes, allowing him to see her blush.
He smirks, just the faintest traces of a smile playing around the full mouth.
"So I was…"
There are times when she's unable to hide her frustration with him, with herself, with this dastardly situation they've found themselves in. In those moments when she glimpses his hurt and utter confusion, she has to remind herself that this isn't his fault.
It wasn't him. This man in front of her isn't him. Not really.
The pair of them are but shadows of who they once were.
Penance could be paid over a thousand years, she understands this now.
He usurped a throne, took the kingdom and spilled innocent blood. She stole Gwangjong's heart, ripped it out of his chest and fled in broad daylight.
She wonders how they will be made to pay for it all.
Whether they will be born again…over and over across the millennia, reincarnated with but fragments of their past transgressions clutched between their fingers, unable to shed themselves of sin. Forever banished and perpetually punished for all they lived through in Goryeo.
It is tragic and well-deserved. The thought often brings tears to her eyes. Despair is the usual culprit, sometimes it is gratitude. Because if she's sure of one thing now, it's that there's no one else she would rather live an accursed existence with except him.
He always kisses her tears away.
"How long have you known?"
"Does it matter now?"
"H-how long have you known, Yo? How long have you known he was here?"
"Long enough."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why would I? How could I? He had you in our past life. I should at least have you in this one!" In that moment, she sees him at his most vulnerable state. She could spew venom towards him without remorse if she wanted to. She knows she could completely destroy him right then and there. She could.
"I love you!" He runs his fingers through his hair, a common habit when he was nervous. "Ha-Jin, I'm in love with you!"
Foolish boy.
She marches to the foyer and proceeds to shrug on her coat and slip on her boots.
"Ha-Jin, get back here! Where are you going?"
"I need to think!" Before he can stop her, she is already out the door, sprinting into the cold rain.
"Soo-yah!"
Thunder crashes overhead as she runs and runs aimlessly down the road, as far away from the house as possible.
She sits directly across from him, staring into the space that separates them.
He speaks in a soft harmonic whisper. "Why are you leaving?"
She can hear him scratching the pad of his index finger with his thumb while he silently appraises her with serious dark brown eyes. He's achingly beautiful. He has always been beautiful. Although, one couldn't really tell if it was truly him at first glance. This time the left side of his face is spared...unscarred and unmarked by history. She takes it as an omen that she is making the right choice, perhaps this way she will not taint him.
"Do you really want to know?"
He folds his hands and weaves his fingers together. "Yes," he replies breathlessly with such sorrow in his eyes.
She reaches over and grabs the coffee he had ordered for her. Cold. It slowly rolls over her taste buds, streaming down her throat as she swallows it. Cold, dark and bitter as her own heart.
"I didn't mean to fall out of love with you. If I could stay, you know I would."
"Was it something I did?"
"Of course not," she whispers immediately, her voice thick with tears. She smiles ruefully and takes a deep breath. "You never did anything wrong. Not ever, not to me. You're exactly who you always were, Pyeha."
She fiddles with the gold bracelet on her left wrist, fighting to keep her resolve from unraveling. "This is my fault."
So that was my one time dabbling in modern-day YoSoo. And naturally she chooses Yo over So because sometimes villains get happy endings too and we do love a toxic pairing ;)
To be honest, finding this old draft made me miss writing again.
P.S.- As always, your approval and validation warm my dark soul and thaw my frozen heart. REVIEWS give me life! Lemme know what you thought ^_^