it had been a typical, if slightly unfortunate, morning for jinae up to that point. her grandmother had woken up feeling ill and she’d promised didi the day off, so after dropping hyejoo off at school she’d been rushing around trying to get the shop ready for the day. luckily for her (not necessarily for the store’s finances), it was rare for anybody besides the mailman to stop in that early so even though the book nook was officially open, she hadn’t expected anybody to interrupt her delayed shelving.
which is why her heart stops when she turns around to see a large man staring at her with one hand balled up in a fist.
her fear only lasts half a second because it is impossible for her not to recognize the father of her child. even after so many years, he still has the same shiny aura that he’d had the first time she’d seen him. it’s a miracle that she’s able to keep her expression pleasant and neutral after the initial fear washes away because the feelings of bitterness, anger, and betrayal that had contorted her memories of him over time threatened to unleash themselves before he’d even said a single word.
so she smiles, forcing a look curiosity and making sure not an ounce of recognition registers in her eyes. six years ago he’d decided to act like he didn’t know her in his desperate attempts to get her to disappear. so that’s what she’d give him in return. complete and total abandonment, no matter what it turns out he was there for.
“sorry, you startled me. you should have called out when you walked in. welcome to the book nook. is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”
she wants throw a novel at his face. she wants to shove him out the door. she wants to scream at him so he’d know every single second of difficulty and suffering she’d endured over the last six years on her own. but she doesn’t. instead she stoops down to collect the heavy box of books she’d been putting away so she can carry it behind the desk and finish later. she hopes that he’ll take the hint and go away, but something in her gut is telling her that her life is about to get significantly more difficult and she doubts she’ll be in the mood to finish the task after he leaves.
she finally turns to face him again, the blank smile still on her face. “i’m also more than happy to offer my recommendations if you need them.”
“so you’re just going to talk to me like you literally don’t know who i am?”
it wasn’t what doojoon was expecting. throwing a coffee in his face, kicking him out of the store — he had been ready for those. doojoon knew he was in turmoil, and knew that the day he would face jinae after all these years like a sad dog coming back to its owner after he can’t find anything to eat that it wouldn’t be pleasant. hell, he expected the world to come to one big, screeching halt when he would show up again unannounced.
nothing is ceremonious. jinae has aged beautifully so; last time he’d seen her had been a picture his mother (the active instagram mother she is) sent to him a couple of years back before she finally came to the reality that the two would probably never rekindle again. she was just as pretty back then, though her now her rested eyes and glowing complexion told doojoon’s subconscious that she seemed to have made it out of hyejoo’s earliest years relative unscathed. he wonders how long it took jinae to finally be able to find nights of decent rest after years of raising their child.
he ignores her attempt to make him a stranger. “looking for you.” it feels like jinae has changed all at once and never at all. he can’t tell her, but she looks even better the last time he’d seen her. instead, he shifts his gaze from shelf to shelf, admiring the stacking work clearly done only within the short time the store had been open.
“m’mom told me where to find you,” he begins then, sucking in through his teeth as a heavy pause looms between his words. the room suddenly feels thick and heavy, like there’s about to be a downpour of rain inside. he falters in his gaze before he finds it there soon again; he hadn’t planned out much of what he was going to say. “i don’t know if you’ve been following the band or whatnot ...” or if you’ve been following me at all, “... the guys and i decided to take a break. it was a mutual decision sort of thing.” he holds up the to-go box cradling their two, slightly watered down iced americanos as a pathetic excuse of a peace offering. “figured i’d get you something to lessen the blow that i’m back.”