It was Tuesday, and what a day to drink yourself to oblivion.
The bar was half lit, the few there were in corners, all secluded into their own little world while the bar line was empty. She'd sat there, hoping to get hit by someone and go together somewhere nice with a stranger and forget the day away. In the darkness of the bar the soft pop song in the background seemed to lose itself in the mist of smoke and the thin dust of fear, forgetfulness and anger that other's created with their own problems. Very few spoke, because very few were busy talking out their problems with their respective partners, and the others just sat there drinking and attempting to forget.
Yoo Eun Soo was one of those trying to forget, having taken the last seat at the bar, her bag and coat dangling from the seat she comfortably sat at and her hands full with a tall glass. Her drinking was really heavy sometimes, and tonight she had all intentions of getting smashed for good. It had been one of those days, heavy, busy and disgustingly slow; where bad news seemed to find only her office and practice, and nothing seemed to be able to reconcile her soul with acceptance. Tired and really, really disappointed with herself and life, Eun Soo sighed and caressed the length of her glass with her index, leaning her face against her left hand and closing her eyes.
She wanted to be someone else right now, a lady at some household that had money and her husband provided; she would have two kids, a large house and a few servants, her days would be leisure and housekeeping, her little joys pleasing her husband and shopping. Was there such a life possible for her? Not with her temper.
A tall man stood beside her, his arm falling to rest over the rest of her chair as his finger lifted and a drink was ordered for him. This man, a tall, quiet wonder was simply too gorgeous for words. His aristocratic nose, his almond colored eyes, his handsome face and lean form. He was young and gorgeous; strong and powerful, physically, emotionally and economically, blunt yet gentle and to her joy her never-failing partner. The expensive bottle of scotch was delivered with a glass and a small napkin and a shot served; the tall man drank the amber liquid, and set the glass soundlessly down. He leaned and waited, knowing her blabbermouth would activate soon and he would have a flood of ideas tsunaming this bar in no time.
"Aren't you saying something?"
"Is there something specific you want to hear?" His voice was smooth and as bitter as dark chocolate, yet soothing to her mind, he was always like this.
"Choi Young-ssi, your partner is very depressed, don't make things worse."
"Then I would do better by remaining quiet." And finally he sat, not releasing the rest of her chair. His body turned to her, both her arms surrounding her, one behind her chair, the other around her drink, obviously worried. "Eun Soo." He said softly, "Are you alright?"
"No." She responded, not turning not him.
"I don't want to." She said looking down, pursing her lips and closing her eyes. The chair beside his grew closer, and his warmth invaded him.
"Eun Soo." How come he never used honorifics? Why was he always such a snob and thought himself above everything else…? "Imja?" No, not that word… There was no defense against that word, when used in that soft tone and pleading stare. "Imja, tell me." Her face turned, hair covering her face, as her features obviously constricted in pain. He waited patiently, watching all of her emotions moving through her face as in a waltz. Sadness, pain, fear, disappointment, tears…
"I lost a patient today." She sniffled, and her body shook with unshed sobs. "In the table, he just… he was dead. I couldn't do a thing for him. Just, dead."
His arms wrapped quickly around her, her face hidden against the expensive collar of his designer suit. He smelled of cologne and spice, and his warmth was comforting. So comforting she simply let him carry the burden she felt and her tears slid down her cheeks, shoulders shaking with the pain she felt. Eight years of practice and she lost her first patient; usually it took days or weeks before such a thing happened, but Eun Soo was a damn good surgeon.
"No it's not! A life was lost, my patient was lost!" She sniffled, as he caressed the back of her head, her tears drenching his shoulder. "A boy, he was just a boy."
There was really nothing he could say so he padded her shaking body a few times and turned to the bartender, signaling at him to put everything consumed under his tab, making the man nod, and helped the woman stand. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"No, I don't want to go home."
"I didn't meant your home, Imja." And without explaining further, why bother she already knew what he meant, Cho Young gathered her things; her bag and coat, the small projector over the bar's table, and then finally gathered her, holding her with both arms. She sniffled several times against his chest and allowed him to guide her out. The ride was quiet, her eyes lost somewhere between memory and the passing light streets, going on and off; her lids heavier than expected. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the sudden pain she felt, but she was tired. Hazily she remembered his voice announcing they had arrived, then a stumbling and some laughing; then Choi Young carrying her, laying her on bed. She was covered, shoes off and jewelry over the night table; when the man attempted to leave she held his arm, desperate.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to set the alarm, I'll be right back."
"Don't leave me alone."
"I'm not going anywhere, Imja, I'm right here." So instead of leaving, Choi Young climbed into bed, his long lean body molding to hers even over the covers. His arms wrapped around her, pillowing her head, holding her waistline, and Eun Soo held him tight.
Eun Soo woke up with the streaming lights of the sun filtering through the closed blinds. She wasn't home, that much she knew, at least not the home she paid and cared for; this place was as much home to her as the man resting beside her. Stirring she felt the beginnings of a hangover but everything was forgotten when she turned and looked at the clock.
"What?!" She let out, more as a gasp than anything else, and stood quickly up, disturbing the peacefully sleeping Choi Young into consciousness. "Why didn't you wake me up early!?"
He never failed to do so, always setting up the alarm so she could resume her working without problems. Choi Young groaned and sat a bit up against the headboard of the bed, eyes closed. He stirred then, yawning. "You didn't let me set the alarm, and you know how I sleep." He commended drugged with the sleep still covering his senses. Choi Young was famous, since childhood to be able to sleep for days without worrying about food or bathroom breaks, and he liked it so much that it was a miracle he passed the classes at university (He slept through most of them). Eun Soo gathered her things, crying out she was so late, while he watched. "There's a clean set of clothes for Imja in the bathroom, and I called to have hangover soup delivered. You are already late as it is, just take a shower and eat something before you leave."
"You don't understand! I have to…" And then she stopped, watching him stand from bed, yet remembering everything that happened the day before. Choi Young hugged her, and kissed her hair.
"I know. You will probably receive the information of the autopsy report today; take the day off. I will stay with Imja." And he parted, kissed her lips (making her thinking stop), and smiled at her. "Would you like to go shopping? I'll buy you whatever you want."
"If we marry, do you promise to be like this? Always? With me?"
"Are you proposing right now? Because that's the man's job."
"I want to be a house wife!"
"With Imja's temper? I don't think it would work."