Go Hajin tells herself she shouldn't get lost in this new man that comes to her. Kim Hyeonjin is not Wang So and she shouldn't forget it, but she's not so confident in herself. She's not confident in her confused mind, that keeps tricking her with glimpses of the past. She's not confident in her broken heart, which is desperate for a second chance to love.

She's not confident in her needy self, so eager to make him look only at her again, and she keeps repeating in her mind that she has to focus. She keeps repeating that this man is not the 4th Prince of Goryeo, so she won't lose her conviction just because he's being nice to her.

And he's being very nice indeed.

Hyeonjin is not pushy, despite insisting on making her go drink a coffee with him. Once they are inside of the shop Hajin used to visit before she fell into a coma (the same shop she was with Jinhye when she saw him for the second time), he doesn't rush her to do or say anything. After they take their drinks — he paid for hers before she could even take the wallet from her bag — he lets her pick a table and sits right in front of her.

He asks questions without being invasive, but still coaxing her to participate in the conversation. He puts a distance between them to not make her uncomfortable, but he's still close enough to be supportive. He looks at her respectfully, no masked malicious intentions, but with an attention and care that almost makes her feel like she's the only person in the world for him.

Hyeonjin is nice, and that doesn't make it any easier for her.

Hajin keeps her eyes set down on the table, because every time they meet his, the tears threaten to return, as yet another memory from Goryeo floods her mind, causing her another heartbreak.

However, Hyeonjin's advice seems to work somewhat, as, after managing to not get lost in his dark eyes or in his deep voice, she feels her worries slipping away slowly. She feels as if the whole extra decade she lived in the past was just a heavy and stuffy coat that she took off her shoulders after a long day.

Is that what he meant back then when he said he felt his burdens getting light after coming to me?

But after finishing the coffee, and a vague conversation about how money ruins lives with the stranger, Hajin decides it's enough. She thanks him for the coffee, the company and the talk, but it's getting late and it's better to go home. And that's when he slips a piece of paper through the table, placing it right in front of her, a phone number clearly written on it. If you ever need to talk again, he explains casually and reassures her that he won't come after her, nor will he try to follow her home or anything weird.

He doesn't even ask her to take the paper. He just puts it there and waits for her decision.

There are many reasons for Hajin not to take the small piece of paper. She shouldn't give herself false hopes, she shouldn't open this door and create another connection with him. She shouldn't allow herself to come so close to him, which would only make her suffer even more afterwards.

She knows she shouldn't, but she takes his number, puts it on her wallet before saying goodbye hurriedly, almost running away from the café.

Later that night, as she lays in bed, she fights to fall asleep. But the brief encounter with the stranger who looks like Wang So still feels too surreal. And, like a teenager with a crush, she finds herself thinking about every single word, every single movement, every single tiny detail in their conversation. Only to scold herself and reprimand her mind for being so weak-minded and wavering.

She was just curious, she tells herself. She was curious about the man that looked so much like Gwangjong, and now her curiosity has been satisfied. Hajin won't need to use Hyeonjin's number and she will follow her initial decision to not approach him again. So she decides to throw the piece of paper away in the morning.

.

.

.

.

She doesn't throw it away.

The blue piece of paper remains in her wallet the entire day. And even though Hajin tells herself that she just forgot to take it out, she knows she's just postponing, trying to hold on to that piece of the stranger who looks like Wang So. She's holding on to these tiny little pieces, so she can feel that they are still tied somehow.

That's what she admits to herself the following night, once again lying in the dark room and facing her ceiling. She admits she's reluctant to let go of him, even though he was never hers in this lifetime. And that makes it easier for her to draw another line and make another vow, come to another decision.

Go Hajin vows to always carry that piece of Kim Hyeonjin, but to never use it, never take it away to the sunlight.

She succeeds at it for a day.

Hajin tells herself she just wants to check his calligraphy, as the paper slips away from the pocket of her wallet after she returns home from work. Then she tells herself she's just appreciating his elegant writing as she caresses the numbers and the characters of his name. Then she stops saying things to herself, because there's no way she can justify her taking out her phone and saving his number on her contact list.

She knows she's being weak, but looking at the screen of her phone and thinking just how easily she could reach out to him hurts less than vowing to never approach him again. Even if he would probably never reach out to her as well.

Hajin cries a little less after that. She manages to walk back and forth to her work and her home without feeling the weight of the world over her shoulders. Her heart still aches, but it doesn't feel like it's about to burst. She also types a message to him every night, before she falls asleep, but she never sends it.

Maybe she's doing something wrong, but saving the futile 'hello', and 'how are you?', even the 'can I see you today?' and 'I miss you' messages helps her to keep on to the next day, even though she knows she won't ever see him again.

For the first time since her memories from Goryeo returned, Hajin thinks she might be able to have a normal life. Just because of that small connection between them.

Maybe that's why, that afternoon, after she steps out earlier than usual from the make-up store — finally free from a rather tiresome and demanding short shift — her feet take her to the coffee shop where she last saw Kim Hyeonjin.

She is feeling depleted and deprived, so she thinks that just pretending to send him a text won't be enough. She wants to pretend she's going after him, that he is waiting inside the shop and will welcome her with a bright smile. And when he speaks, he'll talk about the past — a thousand year past — and they'll laugh out of relief that everything is over.

She wants to feed an illusion, even though she'll probably crash down after the inebriation passes and her daydream fades. She wants to fool herself for a few moments, because she feels that she deserves this small piece of comfort, as well as the despair that follows it.

But as soon as she steps into the coffee shop, the first thing she sees is Kim Hyeonjin himself at the balcony.

"Hello there," he welcomes her with a bright smile, and she freezes on the spot, her jaw drops and her eyes bulge, her voice a few octaves higher when she speaks.

"Hyeonjin-ssi!" Miraculously she doesn't call him Pyeha or Wangjanim, "You work here?"

"I do," he nods and her mind burns every single cell trying to understand the sudden turn of events.

"Since when? I used to come here all the time and I never saw you."

"Since I came to Seoul," Hyeonjin squints his eyes a little bit, calculating days in his head, "I think it was a little over a year ago."

Hajin makes the count mentally as well. If Hyeonjin had started to work as a barista at her favorite café more than a year ago, then that's when she was still in a coma. She was still living a different life with a different man, but who had a similar appearance to his.

"Oh. I haven't come for a long time, so I didn't realize..." Hajin apologizes quickly, before he is certain she's most definitely crazy, "I'm sorry, I never got in contact."

"That's okay," he shakes his head lightly and raises a hand to reassure her she did nothing wrong, "It just means that you didn't need to, right? Are you feeling better now?"

The question makes her blink a few times before answering, as she tries to understand what's going on inside her. She's not good nor fine, but she now has a reason to believe that one day she will be.

"I am. I'm a lot better," she nods eagerly, and she hopes the overexcitement doesn't give him a wrong impression, doesn't make him think that she might be pretending stuff and hiding things again, "I followed your advice of talking more to people."

Except that you're the one I'm talking to, even though you don't know that. Even though I'll never get a reply for messages I'll never send.

But Hyeonjin's smile grows fonder, unaware of what she's thinking.

"I'm glad," his tone and his gaze make her melt on the inside, "And your drink today is for you alone?"

Hajin then suddenly remembers what she went to do in the café, and her mind gets a little fuzzy as she tries to remember what exactly she was planning to order in the first place.

"I'm feeling all sore and exhausted, so I figured a tea or something would make me feel better. Can you recommend anything?" She asks politely, trying to disguise the fact that she's so stunned by seeing him that she has no idea of what she wants.

Hyeonjin nods, taking her order, and then leans across the balcony, a little closer to her, "Will you require a random stranger to vent again?"

This time his invitation does not surprise her. But she shakes her head hurriedly, before she creates any more ties or bonds with the man who looks like the man she loves the most.

"You don't have to. Keep working."

"The shop is slow at this time," he explains shrugging, as he starts to prepare her drink, "But I can't promise you anything after five o'clock."

She looks around, and clearly the only people in there are students of the University nearby, who are craving for a shot of caffeine as they work on their assignments. There is also a group of teenagers sitting at the tables, but, compared to when she last visited the place with Hyeonjin, it's rather empty.

There are many empty tables, and Hajin knows he won't mind if she decides to keep her privacy. But there are also a few empty seats on the balcony, some of them right in front of him, and she's growing tired of resisting the urge to come closer to this not-so-much-of-an-stranger. And it's particularly difficult when he has a sweet smile and coffee-making skills.

Hajin sighs and sprawls on the balcony seat, "Do you ever get that annoying kind of customer?"

"On a Monday?" Hyeonjin exclaims with a mix of mirth and compassion, "I pity you, Hajin-ssi."

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It gets harder to not come back after that day.

Actually, it gets impossible for Hajin, who surrenders to her selfish and greedy desires. She comes back so many times that she accidentally memorizes his schedule. And after that, she just happens to pass by every day he's on the clock when she leaves from work. She always orders the first thing that comes up in her mind at the moment, be it a full or an empty day, just so she can say hello to him.

She sends him a text message from time to time. Her fingers tumbling as she decides on which words to choose so she won't look ridiculous or desperate. And then she has to control herself to not send another one immediately after he answers.

She fights to control herself, not to get lost — not to lean too much on the solace of Hyeonjin's presence.

And yet, she can't bring herself to just stop.

A\N: Yay! Progres! Sort of