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#send me movie albums to badly review
anapologethicc · 2 years
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SONU KI TITU KI SWEETY SOUNDTRACK REVIEW PLS I WANT TO READ YOU RIP IT TO SHREDS IN ALL ITS ENTIRETY AND ABSOLUTELY RUB KALEEKH ALL OVER IT GO GO GO !!!!
oh god. iss album ki toh mein itni dhajiyaan uda ne wali hoon na. just wait and watch. BUT. first of all. can we just. take a moment of silence to reel in the absolute mindfuckery and time waste this movie was. aur secondly. konse zamane ke movie thi yeh. like 21st century hai. aur yeh koi tv serial nahi hai ki bahu ko villain bana do. par yaar tv serial mein bhi kaali bindi wali chachi ya masi nikalti hai real villain. this movie was another level of misogynistic. like luv ranjan needs to CHOKE and DIE asap for the kind of movies he makes. but idk what he wanted to show through this movie. friendship?? like really. that's the way you wanna go? by making the girl the villain...DISGRACE. ok let's get into it. under the cut. because i'm raging.
1. Dil Chori
kya bolu main. ok so i'll be honest. when i first heard it. i was skeptical because of the 'yoyohoneysingh'. and then i heard it and i thought it could be a good wedding dance song either way. regardless of the AUTOTUNE OVERLOAD. pls sb tell whoever sang this shit to give up on a singing career. like saman bando aur niklo please. and then you know what i heard. THE RAP. and then i wanted to throw my phone away. like matlab. song mein kuch nahi hai. wohi gisa pita kachra hai. and you know what's the worst part about this song. is it encourages you to get drunk and then hit on girls. like babe. you're drunk and fucking delusional if you think a girl is coming next to you just cause you tell her she has silky silky baal and a nice chaal. bhenchod woh ek thapaad lagaeyi and will throw her drink in your face. can somebody write a song on that please? also that chittar kayega line. nahi you wait. main aa rahi hoon chittar marne to whoever the fuck sanctioned this song and it's release. t-series is on top of my bollywood hit list.
2. Chhote Chhote Peg
first of all. neha kakkar. pehle koi usko hathao. i will start the petition. personally go door to door until she is permenantly BANNED from singing ever again. kabhi tel mein kuch fry hote ve dekha hai? you know that sizzle wali awaaz. it's like that. but your kaan are the pakoras being fried. and isko batao koi ki whiskey tastes horrific. nobody likes whiskey babygirl. and men only pretend to kyuki masculinity prove karni hai apni. and i know this FOR A FACT because i've drank it. whiskey is disgusting pls. get yourself sth fruity please. also MY MEANING of nashe mein ho jati mein risky means come near me when i'm drunk and i will shoot you between the eyes. until hers which is basically saying that girls become slutty and promiscuous when they drink. girlie. i don't need a drink to be slutty. it's a forever state of mind please. and then please ohmygod the entire fucking RAP again. it's basically judging women for drinking, telling them they should stay home if they can't hold their alcohol and the rest of it is objectifying girls and more of i'm gonna hit on you when you're drunk. just. to whoever wrote this. sweetie i's glad you don't know me personally. i will castrate you. free of charge.
3. Subah Subah
Sooraj Dooba Hai 2.0 ft. Jonas Blue (this one MAYBE i can vibe with if i was at a party or sth. it's brainless and i'll give it brownie points for arijit's voice)
4. Bom Diggy Diggy
thoda bum ke bare mein kam sochke apne brains mein thoda aur diggy diggy kiya hota toh shayad dhangki lyrics likhni aa jaati. this was one of those so-called punjabi song remakes. pehle toh remake karne layak nahi tha yeh gaana. first time kachra dekha aur inko laga "omg let's do our part to save the world" aur recycle kar dala. swach bharat abhiyaan unko sirf studio mein dhyaan aata hai apparently.
5. Kaun Nachdi
once again. i will strangle you with all this sikly sikly baal i have. phir jab jaan niklegi na toh rona mat. what's with so much silky baal yaar. shampoo ads se inpire hoye the kya?? agar shampoo ads mein passion hai toh woh karno na beta. yahan hamara time kyu waste kar rahe ho? second of all. any song that has the word swag in it can go die in the same hole as justin bieber. also even at the end they still haven't found out kudi kaun nachdi. lemme give you the answer. YOUR MOM. kyuki respect deni toh tab hi aati hai na tum logo ko jab khud ki maa behen ka involvement hota hai. i'm so done with these songs about objectifying women. like. i'm abt to riot.
6. Lakk Mera Hit
honestly. hadn't even heard of it. until i saw it was on the album. and not gonna waste my time to listen to it. it's prolly shit.
7. Sweety Slowly Slowy
i've got 2 words : Mika Singh. but i will let the general public know what this disgusting song is about. it's portraying the female character as a car. and then proceeds to talk about how she should be able to go fast in a tedhi-medhi lane. and how she shouldn't slow down. and how she shouldn't have a break. how the world will tease her. and not to run away. give me attention. don't reject me. or else. basically if she does not do said things. it basically says she will get slapped. let's all just agree to the heinous crime that the existence of this atrocious song is. i can't even with mika singh. like. this song. what the fuck man. like what the actual fuck.
8. Tera Yaar Hoon Main.
i saved this for last. because i kinda love it. but also it fills me with so much sadness at the same time. ALSO ARIJIT. so imma do a whole analysis because i wanna cry. and it's in a separate ask in your inbox. because it does not deserve to be in the same vicinity as these other pieces of shit. when you post it. i'll link it here. <3 i hope i was entertaining enough babe.
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smileyisawesomeable · 7 years
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BECAUSE @pk-hellfire MADE ME Louis was very tired of fake farmers trying to get into his pants. Just because he was a country music millionaire didn't mean he was gonna marry any two-bit hack who thought riding bareback was a sex position. YeeHawmony, Cowboy Mingle, and Wranglr were terrible sites, meant for wannabe riders and people who didn't know how to stick a seed in the ground, let alone grow it. Plus, nobody believed he was The Louis Tomlinson™ and when they did, they only dated him for money. Gay cowboys were hard to come by, and Louis gave up on his dreams of marriage and love, raising his own children along with cows, chickens, and horses. Niall was sick of him whining about his need for a down-home boy, so he went searching all over the internet for a way to find an authentic farmer dating site. Louis was losing hope, and his song writing went as dry as his love life. Zayn, his manager, was worried about Louis's well being, so he joined Niall on late-night searches and calls to obscure dating services. When asked who they wanted to sign up, the reply of the famous star's name made workers hang up. How was Louis supposed to find love as a cowboy in this high-tech world? Finally, 8 months after Louis's last album released, his phone rang. At 2:27 in the morning, three hours before he had to be awake, he found his solution. Niall screamed into his ear, despite being twenty yards away in the guest ranch, wanting him to get on his laptop and search up Farmers Only. He told Niall to fuck off, and go to bed. But because he was so desperate, and somewhat sleep deprived, he picked up his laptop and clicked on Google. Seventeen minutes later, he fell asleep on the keyboard, spelling his name Lou Tinson and submitting his form. Right at 5:30 the rooster crowed, awakening Louis with a start. His laptop slipped out of his arms in his sleep, laying closed on the floor, completely forgotten along with the night's events. A morning of chores, including but not limited to cleaning the pig pen, gathering eggs, brushing horses (2), and checking the cows and fences, made his back ache and had his heart screaming in loneliness. After lunch, Louis had to do house chores, and found his laptop on the floor for a reason he didn't know. Out of curiosity, he opened the lid and stared at the screen in disbelief. There was his blurry picture, and his email, but the wrong name posted on a profile he didn't remember making. He had no idea how to handle the idea that a "fan" had broken into his house, took pictures of him, and posted it without him even waking up. Louis finally snapped to attention, called Zayn and Niall, demanding that they come over immediately to help him, no explanation given, just a plea for help. When they came, Louis begged them to check the cameras he installed after fans found out his address. Niall was confused, but this wasn't exactly unlike his best friend. Zayn was sketched out, running to the living room, flipping the TV on and reviewing last night's video log. Nobody in, nobody out. Nothing. "Lou, what are you so worried about? Your house was dead last night," said the thick, Bradford accent. Louis turned around, opened his laptop, and showed them his crazy screen most likely filled with requests to get muddy. Once Niall saw, he died laughing. He showed Louis and Zayn his phone record, and explained the situation to the perplexed boys. Zayn finally understood and began to laugh with Niall, reading the profile of "Lou Tinson" and laughing at the endearing, yet slightly misspelled, biography. Louis thought they were evil, laughing at him in his sleep deprived haze, but he had to follow along when he realized how badly he'd overreacted. After the boys left, back to their daily lives, Louis continued to clean the house, ignoring his constantly pinging laptop. It seemed every cowboy wanted a taste of the beautiful, yet blurry pictured boy. Finally, his chores were done and his curiosity, for the second time that day, got the very best of him. With a sigh, he lay on his couch, armed with popcorn and a can of coke, ready to laugh at the ridiculous things people had offered him. He turned Netflix on to the cutest Christmas carol he could find, ready for the fast-approaching season. In the time it took for him to get the movie on, his laptop chimed eight times. He stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, and pulled up the minimized tab. There were 63 messages. All from the same person, a Hal Stiles. His photo was just as low-quality as Louis's, biography so similar he could only laugh. Hal loved fishing, biking, riding horses, and he mentioned that he had his own little farm close to Holmes Chapel. Hal seemed perfect for Louis, but 63 messages in the time it took Louis to clean his property? He seemed desperate. REALLY desperate. During this inner monologue, his screen showed two new messages. Louis though it may be best to actually read the messages before making a decision, because his momma raised him right, to never judge a book by its cover. The messages were poorly written, looked like his drunk texts: U r cute nd i like u Ur hair is prety Can u ride horses?? I need a new daddy Jeez, this guy didn't seem to beat around the bush. Hal seemed like a funny guy, though. There was determination in his many texts, and a Louis could only imagine how easy it would be to start a conversation. Before he could stop himself, Louis was sending a message: Are you always this forward or was there a big hoedown last night? A message came almost instantly, giving a phone number. Louis was perplexed but he wanted to see where this was going. He texted the number his "name" and said hi with a smile. Then he waited. Louis never got the message he was hoping for, but instead, two movies and half a beer later, his phone rang with an Hal's number. Immediately, Louis picked up. A young voice screamed in his ear, a dog barked, and a deep voice screamed about the tickle monster. What had he gotten into? Finally, Harry realized that his phone was on, and he was being listened to, because he picked up the phone, with a rush of apologies. It had only been 4 minutes, and the person on the other side was more amused than angered. "You're fine, love! But your name is Hal right?" The deep voice laughed. What an odd day. First his daughter, taking his phone to text weird people, then this. Weird caller with no clue of his actual name. "No, my name is Harry. But, not to be rude, who are you?" Louis was lost. "I'm Louis. I texted you earlier, after you gave me your number, remember?" "Umm, no. I don't give out my cell number normally. My daughter plays on it. I think you have the wrong number?" Hal, or Harry, replied with a confused voice. "Wait," he added, "Are you on Farmers Only?" Then the voice sighed. "Yes, I signed up for it last night. Why?" Lou replied, ready to hang up on this drunken mess. He sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for a reply. "My daughter. Well, my daughter is special. She loves to sign me up for things. She's only six, but she thinks she can set me up. I caught her messaging someone today and I think it was you." Harry sounded close to tears, sighing between every few words. "When this sunk in, Louis found himself laughing, a sound that made Harry's heart leap. It sounded warm and comforting. "That's fine, mate. I was a little confused at the forwardness of you "needing a new daddy" anyways," Louis finally joked, wiping tears away from laughing too hard. There was an audible gasp on the other side. "Trust me, she's 6. There is no way she would mean it that way!" Luna was as special as the character she was named after, always up to something Harry had to solve eventually, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Look, Louis. I really didn't mean to get your hopes up because I'm not ready for anything serious, but you seem like a nice guy. How about I make this up to you with drinks? Friday night?" Harry said, ready to make this unfortunate event to the poor bloke on the other side of the line. "Y'know what, Harry? That sounds mighty fine."
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chapitre7 · 7 years
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Scarlet Street
Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo [달의 연인-보보경심 려] fanfiction
Noir AU
Wang So/Hae Soo
Reads well to the sound of IU’s album, “Modern Times”.
For krysyuy ♥ For inceptioning ideas in my head.
Disclaimer: Title is only a homage to the original movie. This work in no way reflects the story of the piece by the same name.
“I need you to find out if my boyfriend has another woman.”
The young woman’s breathing was heavy with anticipation of his answer. He blew the smoke of his cigarette on her face and she barely flinched for one second, coughing and glaring the next.
“Leave,” said the private detective, leaning back on his chair. The girl slammed her hands on his desk and he looked from them to her face, arching an eyebrow. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m paying for the services, you can’t tell me to leave!”
The detective raised two fingers.
“Listen, lady, I won’t be taking your case for two reasons: one, I don’t take infidelity cases, I’ve got better things to do with my time. Two, you can’t afford my services.”
“I can!”
She meant to reach inside her purse but the detective was up in no time, pulling her up by the arm, not too forcefully but still firmly enough that she stumbled her way towards the exit.
“You can’t do this to me, I’m a customer!” Her voice was high and indignant and making him roll his eyes.
“Correction, you were a potential customer and now you’re leaving.”
He pushed her outside to the reception room, badly lit and with a desk almost completely empty if not for a black phone. The girl stared at the cigarette still on his mouth, probably outraged that she wasn’t even worth his time to put it out. It’d be the first thing she was right about ever since she walked in.
“I’ll be calling you, Mr. Wang, I won’t take no for an answer!”
“If that’s the way you are with everything then perhaps you don’t need a private detective.”
She threw her purse at his face and both it and the cigarette fell to the floor. The detective exhaled angrily and fought the impulse to accidentally step on the girl’s fingers as she crouched to retrieve her purse, settling for stepping on the cigarette butt instead, throwing it in the trash afterwards. When he looked up, he saw the girl looking everywhere on the desk.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m looking for a card with your number on it, there was nothing on the newspaper ad.”
“There is no number,” he said, and she stared at him like he was an idiot.
“What do you mean there’s no number? What does your secretary do all day?”
He gestured around with one hand, the other in his pocket.
“There is no secretary. Do you see one?”
The girl gaped at him.
“I assumed... But why?” She stepped closer to him, and to each one of her steps, he took one back. “Did she steal the secrets of one of your cases? Did you fire her because you were in love with her and you were afraid you’d lose your mind?” She gasped. “Was it a man and he fell in love with you?”
The detective flicked her on the forehead and she let out a small “ack!”.
“I did fire her, but not for any of those absurdities.”
“Why then?”
He rolled his eyes and started to move back into his office.
“Couldn’t afford her.”
The girl was stronger than she looked, blocking him from closing the door on her face.
“Aha! Then you shouldn’t dismiss any case, should you, Mr. Wang?”
He smiled and the young woman smiled back.
“You know the way out.”
And he closed the door, hearing her whimper outside, she probably lost her balance. He locked it for good measure.
“I’ll be back, Mr. Wang!
Private Detective Wang So walked to the window, using two fingers to peek through the blinds at the girl who stepped outside his building. White dress wet with rain within minutes, the cars’ lights reflecting on her as she called for a cab. While she drove away, he looked at the dark gray sky and wondered when the worthwhile cases would come. With a sigh, he walked back to his desk, organizing his notes, working on the cases he had. Lost pets. Stolen jewelry. Got to pay the bills, Wang So.
Still not taking an infidelity case from a sixteen-year-old.
He reached for his coffee mug and only noticed it was empty when it was already on his lips.
Ah, I want to go home.
He went shopping for coffee instead.
  She came back, again and again and again. One day he arrived at work, his hat in his hand, ready to be placed in its usual hanger, when he noticed she was already there, waiting for him, and he cursed whoever let her in, cursed her and cursed that she spotted him. He turned on his heels regardless, placing his hat back on his head and she followed him for two blocks, talking his ear off while he tried to pretend she wasn’t there. On another day, he opened the door for his client to leave and there she was, bouncing to her feet, the black curls of her hair gracefully falling down her front, the mischievous smile of one who’s dying to say I gotcha. He shut the door before any sound came out of her mouth.
“Mr. Wang!” She called from the other side and goddamn it, he was out of cigarettes. “Please hear me out, Mr. Wang!”
He opened the door and stormed out, hat on his head, trench coat flapping behind him, climbing down the stairs with her in tow.
“I’m not going to stalk high school boys.”
“What?” She squeaked. “My boyfriend is not in high school. Neither am I, for that matter!”
He hummed in genuine surprise, stepping out in the street.
“Well then,” he said, and a ray of hope crossed her features. “I’m still not doing it.”
“Please, I—”
Wang So stopped in his tracks, the girl colliding with his back.
“Listen, Miss Go Ha Jin.” He turned to face her, noticing how big her eyes were, a portrait of innocence. “If you’re suspicious, then ten times out of ten, you’ll be right. Women are not paranoid or overthinkers, they’re perceptive. And men are assholes. If you think he has another woman, then he does. Go with your instincts. Ditch the bastard.”
He turned and resumed his walk, no longer hearing her chatter or her footsteps. He never looked back.
On his way back to his office, he spotted her by a flower shop a few blocks from his building. She was talking to a well-mannered man who smiled like he had no secrets to tell. Wang So blew the smoke in their direction, watching her laugh amidst the fog. He adjusted his hat and climbed the stairs back to his office, all the while thinking, Fool.
  He saw her not a week later, dropping by like she had nowhere else to go. She was dripping wet, ruining his carpet. Her curls were ruined, as were her eyes; the raindrops fell from her eyelashes, from her bangs, hid away her tears, but nothing could hide away the redness, the disappointment, the sadness.
“He’s married,” she said, letting out a short, weak laugh. “Isn’t it funny? I was worried he had another woman but I was the other woman.” She looked up at him and he held her gaze. He felt he had already seen it before, in mirrors. “Did you know, Mr. Wang?”
He shook his head. “I never looked him up, miss.”
She looked down again. “That’s right. But you knew, anyway. I feel like you’ve always known.”
“Like I said, Miss Go Ha Jin.”
He dropped his trench coat over her shoulders, hiding her transparent garments from view.
“Men are assholes.”
He let her stay there, in the reception, with a mug of tea and wandering thoughts. He reviewed all his notes and cases but he was too distracted, he kept looking at the open door and thinking about the woman who sat on the other side. Not-a-high-schooler Go Ha Jin, suffering from her first heartbreak. He didn’t know what a heartbreak felt like but he knew what it was like to feel lost; his memories trailed back to the heat and flash of a fire, the smell of smoke, and a home that crumbled down to the ground. Surely it wasn’t like that, could anything feel like that? Like there’s nowhere to go from there, no ground to step on, no air to breathe? Looking at her, staring ahead, all things that made the character that he knew — the care with which she dressed herself, the light make-up and nailpolish, the way she held his glare and rejection and her ground — seemed to be gone, and he knew that it was something like it.  You never know what could break a person, only that they were breakable.
“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” he heard her whisper and had enough of it.
“Do you work, Miss Go Ha Jin?”
She blinked a few times before looking up at him and shaking her head.
“As you can see, I’m in need of a secretary.”
She blinked slowly.
“I thought you couldn’t afford one.”
He coughed.
“Do you want the job or not?”
Go Ha Jin frowned and looked at her mug before widening her eyes at him.
“You mean I can help solving cases? Help those in need? Listen to their pleas?”
Wang So crossed his arms.
“I said I need a secretary, not that I’m giving you my job.”
She got up to her feet; his trench coat, draped over her shoulders still, reached her shins.
“But I can help, right? I get to meet all kinds of people?”
“You can help me filter the cases. Get rid of the worst ones. Sniff out those who can’t pay.”
She scrunched her nose.
“I’m not a dog, Mr. Wang.”
“That’s the kind of help I need. Will you do it?”
He could see the glow finding its way back into her eyes, the broken cup coming together again.
“Yes!”
  It turned out that Ha Jin wasn’t the best secretary he could have gotten, and he blamed his own shortcomings for it. She had a penchant for answering the phone with “Wang So PD, here to solve all of your problems!”, which always made him yell, “Cut that out, Ha Jin!”. He worked for free at least five times on her first month, and he took at least one infidelity case because she couldn’t send a crying woman away and he couldn’t kick them both out of his office. His headache wasn’t greater because she made a fine coffee and always brought it to him at the right intervals with a smile on her face. She liked peering at his notes and he was sure she read over them all while he did field work; whenever he got back, everything was neatly organized in piles.
The months passed and he got used to her presence, to her perfume. The sound of her heels brought him comfort, and he ate out less and less as she insisted on cooking for them both. Sometimes she yawned cutely and he stared at her, raising one hand and asking her if she got bored of detective work already and she tripped over her words, ran to answer the phone, the peppiness back in her. She did her best in such a thankless job and he smoked pack upon pack, wondering, always wondering why the days were still gray as summer drew nearer. The sun was blinding, casting shadows on the sidewalk, and the nights were still as a graveyard. Until he fell asleep and dreamed. Of fire and destruction. Of her mad laughter.
Ha Jin entered his office and closed the door, staying right there, with her back glued to it.
“Mr. Wang,” she whispered. He didn’t look up from his notes.
“Yes, Ha Jin?”
“There’s a woman outside.”
“If it’s an infidelity case, I’ll throw both of you down the stairs.”
“It’s not! She looks... rich.”
That made him still his pen.
“Then stop talking and let her in.”
Go Ha Jin pursed her lips and opened the door.
Wang So didn’t know what to focus on the moment she walked it. The bright red of her heels and lips, the trick of lighting reflecting on her opaque stockings, the tilt of her hips as she walked towards him. Quickly his eyes were drawn to the bracelets shining on her wrists and the fur delicately touching the crook of her elbows. She sat down in front of him and crossed her legs, her eyelashes — too long — blinking slowly at him.
“What can I do for you, Miss...?”
“Yeon Hwa,” she said. “Call me Yeon Hwa.”
Ha Jin closed the door a little too loudly.
“What can I do for you, Miss Yeon Hwa?”
“I need you to clear the circumstances of my husband’s death.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“And why do they need to be cleared?”
“The police won’t listen to me. They have...” Her shoulder, unmarred and perfect, leaned a bit towards him. “...conflicting opinions that do not reflect the reality.”
Wang So reached for his cigarette and Yeon Hwa leaned forward, his lighter in her hand.
“May I?” She asked and he never took his eyes off hers, her hands inches from his face, perfectly placed to touch him. She didn’t. Go Ha Jin walked in and placed a tray with his mug of coffee and a cup of tea on his desk, the china rattling with the movement. Yeon Hwa leaned back in her seat and gave the girl a wide smile, gladly accepting the tea. So purposefully didn’t look at Ha Jin, especially when she didn’t leave. “Will you help me, Mr. Detective?”
“I’ll stop by your house by tomorrow. Please leave your contact information with my secretary.”
“Thank you, Mr. Detective.”
Yeon Hwa walked outside, the sweet fragrance of her imported perfume lingering in her absence, Ha Jin following her with heavy steps. Wang So drank his coffee and gathered his thoughts before Ha Jin returned, closing the door behind her.
“She lives in one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. Are we really taking her case?” Ha Jin crossed her arms, a habit he suspected she got from him. “It all seems very suspicious.”
“She killed her husband,” the detective announced, scribbling down something, until Ha Jin slammed her hands on his desk. He glared at her and she retreated, falling onto the chair before him.
“How did you know that? When did you figure it out?”
“The moment she opened her mouth.”
Ha Jin gasped and he ignored it, drinking his coffee instead.
“And still you took her case?”
“Listen, Ha Jin.” He turned to her and she blinked at him with those huge eyes of her. “We want to keep this place, yes? Then we need cases. Cases that actually pay the rent. That means one or two gold diggers once in a while. No judgment, no complications. Just give them what they want. Got it?”
Ha Jin lowered her gaze and said nothing. He felt like scolding a child and he didn’t know what was worse, the feeling or the allegory, so he just resumed his work, spreading pictures across his desk and trying to come up with a solution to a missing person’s case.
“You’ve been doing well in the other cases,” Ha Jin mused in a quiet voice. “Even the ones that couldn’t pay were happy.”
“Now we’re going to have a happy rich lady in our hands for a change,” he said distractedly, moving the pictures around. “Maybe I’ll buy you one those shawls of hers.”
He peered at her and chuckled inwardly at her scoff.
“Thank you, Mr. Detective,” she imitated and it was less affected than he had expected. He bit his bottom lip and looked away.
She watched him work, eerily silent.
“You always dedicate yourself to every case,” she said once he let himself fall down on his chair and nursed his temples, a migraine showing its ugly face in the darkness behind his eyelids.
“Have to. Work is work, even those you trap me into.” He looked at her out the corner of his eyes and she seemed to wither, a flower without sun.
“I’ll try to get better cases,” she said with a sheepish smile. He just nodded and looked at his wristwatch. 7pm.
“Let’s wrap it up for tonight. I’ll be going to Miss Yeon Hwa’s first thing in the morning so I need you to call her when you get in tomorrow and announce my visit.” Ha Jin nodded while he put on his hat and jacket. “Where do you live, Ha Jin? I can give you a ride.”
She rose quickly.
“Oh no, it’s okay! It’s not that far and everyone knows me around my neighborhood. I can catch a cab?” She sounded unsure and dismissive at the same time and he decided not to pry.
“Just be careful. It’s not safe after dark.”
She smiled and nodded. He started to walk away but she took hold of his sleeve.
“You’ll... be careful too, right, Mr. Wang? Around that woman?”
Wang So patted her hands.
“I’m always careful. Lock everything up before you leave.”
Go Ha Jin nodded, hands falling back to her sides. He took one last glance at her as he climbed down the stairs, catching her little wave and smile, the lilac of her dress contrasting badly with the dullness of his office.
  Wang So only climbed the stairs to his office at late evening of the following day, having spent every hour covering the details of Yeon Hwa’s case, eager to bring it to a close in one day if he could. He did, but he was in desperate need of a cigarette and a shower. Go Ha Jin had been right about one thing; being in Yeon Hwa’s home made his skin crawl, especially when she touched him. The meaningful touch of a woman who needed to get what she wanted. She’d get her inheritance and he would get his payment and Ha Jin would get her boring cases and all would be right in their mediocre little lives.
All would be right once he got his lighter, which he had forgotten in light of the previous day’s events. The door to the reception was locked so he was sure Ha Jin had already left but when he opened the door to his office, he saw her. Curled up on his couch, sleeping peacefully on her side, one hand supporting her head, curls hiding her face from view. Yeon Hwa’s house had been cold, full of corners and furniture of dark wood, but she laid there in perfect, welcome contrast in her beige dress, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her dreams. I thought I told you not to worry about me. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and watched them open, blink the sleep away.
“You’re back,” she spoke, voice drowsy. “How was it?”
“Not as good as the payment. Why are you still here?”
He knelt before her and observed as she sat up, stretched, yawned. There were marks on her cheeks and he wanted to laugh, to tease her, to say something, but her serenity, the cat-like grace of her movements, robbed him of his snark, the weight of her smile falling into him, all the way to the pit of his stomach.
“I decided to wait to see how the case ended but I guess I was tired. I’m sorry, Mr. Wang.”
He got up and walked to his desk to retrieve the object he was looking for, but the need for a cigarette had vanished for the time being.
“Get up, I’ll take you home.”
Ha Jin looked at her wristwatch and stood up in a flash.
“No!”
He stopped adjusting the collar of his jacket to look at her.
“I mean... You don’t have to.”
“I’m sure you have a curfew. Come on.”
He didn’t hear her footsteps behind him until he was out of the reception room. Ha Jin hurried behind him, cheeks flushed, and he started climbing down the stairs as she locked the door. He observed the streets, the pools of rainwater gathered here and there from poor city planning. He liked the humid air of the night, the smell of a damp city, dirty but refreshing and filling his lungs with more than just smoke.
Ha Jin caught up to him at the moment a car was driving dangerously close to one of the puddles and So only had time to pull her into his arms and turn his back to the road before the wave crashed upon them. Ha Jin stared up at him, surprised, eyes reflecting the streetlight above them. She didn’t feel small in his arms; her hands touched his forearms and her head tilted up at him at just the right angle. He could feel her breath on his face. Watched her swallow nervously.
Stepping away from her, he shook his arms angrily, would have shouted at the driver if the car wasn’t long gone.
“You should get changed, Mr. Wang.”
They walked to his car and he threw his jacket in the back seat.
“No need. Get in.”
“You’re soaked! You could get sick, a serious disease!”
He sat behind the wheel and she sat beside him, glaring, her arms crossed.
“Really? You’re going to nag me about this?
Wang So was tired, wet, and not in the mood to deal with an equally displeased companion.
“The longer you take, the longer you’ll be tired, wet and moody, Mr. Wang.”
Well, I’ll be damned.
He started the car and drove for his own apartment, thinking about what he got when he let himself get carried away by generosity and... whatever the hell the other feeling was.
  He had intended to just walk in, get a change of clothes and walk back out to take the girl home. He left her and her wide eyes to his bookshelves and came back to her sleeping on his couch, a book resting open on her chest. Again. He sighed. What are you, a cat?
Truth was, Wang So had a spare bedroom. A luxury for a man with his occupation, but the apartment was old and, above all, it was his. Bought at a different lifetime, in a modest complex. He knew the name of all his neighbors, seldom interacted with them, except one of their cats who occasionally stopped by. He figured the trespasser and Go Ha Jin ought to become friends, sleeping anywhere unprompted.
He stared at her for a while — thinking beyond her, beyond the laces of her skirt — and then left. Searched through his drawers for old clothes that a young woman would be willing to sleep in, something that would make her comfortable. Then he searched for spare blankets and pillows, way cleaner than the ones he was using himself. Set it all in the spare bedroom quietly, the clothes folded neatly by the nightstand, and walked back to the living room.
She was light. Not extremely so he’d worry about her health, but light enough that he could carry her, her weight well-distributed. An average girl of average weight and average height, somewhere between her twenties and her thirties (early twenties, if he were to guess) and with an ironclad will. Heartbroken, but still capable of kindness. Persistent, breaking through his door and his defenses. Asleep. He thought she might have held onto him but he placed her gently on the bed and there she stayed, black curls spread against the pillow.
Sorry your first time at a man’s house isn’t with a good man or in a good house, Go Ha Jin.
The truth was that he didn’t know if it was her first time at a man’s house. She had dated that guy. Kind smiles and vile intentions. He ran his hands through his hair trying to erase any and every thought of her from his mind. He was tired, too tired of cases but unable to shut down his thinking process entirely. Who she was, what she liked, what she had lived, none of it mattered to him. Soon she would leave, like everyone else had left. There one day, gone the next.
He smoked his cigarette instead of eating dinner. Looked at the streetlights from his window, the passing cars. He never stopped thinking, not for one second, and the moments he got tired of his cases were the most dangerous of all. Fighting the thoughts of her and the thoughts of a fire against the night sky, he lied on his bed and tried to sleep.
Soundly, like a cat.
  He felt himself burning on the inside and freezing on the outside. Wet, his back was wet, his hair was wet, and he trembled. When he jolted up on his bed, he felt warm hands on his shoulders, on his face.
Shh, he heard her whisper, he couldn’t see her, he could only smell her, the smell of her shampoo, of his shampoo on her, drowning his senses as he gasped for air, clung to her for dear life. She wrapped her arms around his neck, accommodating him in her, on the crook of her neck, her fingers running through his hair as he regained control of his heartbeats.
They lied back down. She led him, he had no strength. He kept his eyes open in the dark because every time he closed them he saw it, the house on fire. His vision would get used to the darkness and he would see her, see her form, but she didn’t let him. She held his head close to her chest and by the gods, he let her. He let her because for the first time he woke up from that nightmare and he wasn’t alone, he had longed for it, longed for a gentle touch to calm him, lulling him into a peace he no longer remembered.
“You take care of everyone’s problems but your own, don’t you, Wang So?”
He loved her hands in his hair, the pitch of her voice in the dark. Stop it, Ha Jin. I might like you yet. You don’t want that.
“So many vices, so much work, and not one good night of sleep, is that it?”
Tightening his hold on her, around her middle, he knew she was wearing the shirt he had given her. Their legs intertwined, he didn’t think she was wearing the pants. Perhaps they had been too big. He exhaled deeply, against her skin.
“I reckon you’re always yawning, Ha Jin.”
She giggled and he wanted to kiss her neck.
“I get up really early to cook for you, you know?”
“Why?”
He wished he could see her. See the emotions on her eyes. But all he had were her hands, holding him like he was something precious, and he didn’t want it to end.
“Because I want to. Why do we do anything?”
What do you want, Ha Jin? I feel like I could give you anything.
I feel like I could give you everything.
He fell asleep to her caress.
  When he woke up, she wasn’t there. The bed was made, the clothes were folded. Gone, blown away like smoke. He looked into his fridge and noticed there was nothing to make a breakfast with so he resigned himself to eat something on the way. No coffee. He wanted hers.
The office was empty when he arrived, just like they had left it the day before. He swallowed down a wave of panic, focusing on his notes instead, on his cases. He didn’t know how much time passed before he heard her voice, shouting “I’m sorry I’m late!” When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to see that not much time had passed at all.
She wore a combination of a blue dress and gray cardigan. Fresh and clean, like she had never stepped into his apartment. The headache was splitting his brain in half.
“I didn’t miss anything, did I? I’m sorry if I did, I—”
“Ha Jin.”
He raised one finger and she bit her bottom lip.
“Coffee.”
Her face lit up.
“Right away, Mr. Wang!”
He smiled once she was gone. Normalcy was good. Normalcy was welcome.
The day went by quickly. By dusk Ha Jin approached his desk and sat on the client’s chair, quiet.
“You can ask whatever it is you want to ask, Ha Jin,” he said, grabbing one picture and squinting his eyes at it.
“Are you working late today, Mr. Wang?”
He looked at his watch.
“Probably, a bit. Why?”
She clasped her hands together, standing up in a single movement.
“I’ll be leaving now, then! I’ll see you, Mr. Wang!”
“Be careful on the way home,” he said, but when he looked up, she was already out the door. Huh. Curious.
He was extremely surprised when, hours later, she showed up at his door with bags of groceries.
“What are you, some kind of stalker?”
“Do stalkers bring food, Mr. Wang?” She said, walking past him and into the kitchen. “Your fridge is pitiful and I decided to fix it.”
“I’m not going to use all of those, you know.”
“Well, I am,” she said, putting away some ingredients and leaving others around, supposedly for use.
“You’re going to cook?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make enough for the week so you’re not exactly obligated to see me every day past commercial hours,” she said, giving a self-deprecating laugh. He made no comment, just leaned against the doorframe, watching her work.
“You’re not going to stop by tomorrow to clean or something, are you?”
She shook her head, chopping a carrot.
“No, I actually like your home the way it is. It feels... well, homely.”
“I haven’t dusted it in weeks.”
“I can see that.”
She moved around like she owned the place, and were it anyone else, he would have kicked them out. Ha Jin, however, gave color to the kitchen, with her chopped vegetables and blue dress.
“Do you like it?” He asked, and she stopped what she was doing to look at him. “Cooking, I mean.”
She tried to brush her bangs away with the back of her hand but was unsuccessful.
“I do. My father doesn’t really let me do much around the house, but he lets me cook when I want. I took it up when my mother got sick a few years back and it really helped me calm down and focus. It’s good to tone down anxiety.”
“Are you anxious a lot?”
She reached out for her bangs again, fingers still too busy and dirty to properly touch them. So walked to her.
“I—”
He reached out and tucked her bangs behind her ears. When they locked eyes, his hand was still touching her. He let it drop to his side, hiding it in his pocket. Ha Jin smiled.
“Much less nowadays.”
“Because of work or all the cooking you do?”
Her head bounced from one side to the other in contemplation. He couldn’t help smiling back at her.
“A little bit of both, I guess.”
While Ha Jin cooked, he made sure all of his dishes and silverware were clean and ready for two. He liked it. The sound of her steps, her cardigan dropped casually on the couch. The house was not crumbling down, his heart was not racing out of control. On that evening, he sat and ate dinner with somebody else for the first time in a long, long while.
“Mr. Wang.”
He looked up from his food, chopsticks halfway towards his mouth.
“The pictures in the living room, that big house... Is it your old home?”
He could feel his hands growing cold.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?” She asked, her teeth showing with her excitement.
“It’s gone now.”
He continued eating and Ha Jin didn’t speak again. Once he was finished, he noticed she seemed small, contained in her space, eating in small bites. He took his dirty dishes to the sink and spoke while washing, his back to her.
“It’s late so you can stay over. The clothes you used are still in the spare bedroom and you know where the bathroom is. Just leave your dishes there and go rest.”
Her reply was chipper.
“Thank you, Mr. Wang!”
He heard her finish her meal and then her footsteps walking away, all the while smiling despite himself.
  It was way past 1am, he knew. He and the midnight clock were acquaintances, enemies. He was so tired but he couldn’t drift off, his mind was a train that never stopped, more and more people boarding in each station, more and more thoughts keeping him awake. There was red behind his eyelids. A neon sign, flashing through the window. On for some nights, off on others. It was one of those nights. He wanted a cigarette.
He didn’t even hear her come in. Soft gestures, soft steps. Her arms sneaking around his middle from behind his back.
“What are you doing, Ha Jin?”
He could feel her talking, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
“It’s the house, isn’t it? It keeps you awake.”
He didn’t comment. Her hand rested over his heart.
“Tell me what happened.”
“It’s a simple story. It burned down.”
“Burning houses aren’t simple or usual, Wang So. Why did it burn down? Was it an accident? Did someone...”
Her voice trailed off. He couldn’t help touching her hand, running his fingers through hers.
“My mother did it. My little brother was inside. They were both inside.”
He felt her tighten her grip around him. Wasn’t that his job? To comfort? But he never did. He never got the hang of it.
“He was always so scared of her, after father left. Eunie, he... “
Tried to catch my attention. Tried to make me stop her.
“The cops said it was an accident. Never listened to me when I said it wasn’t.”
“How old were you then?”
“Seven. I could see the red sky all the way from the shore where I was playing.”
“So...”
It was the first time she used his name. It sounded lonely.
“I tried to teach them differently as I grew up, the cops. But they didn’t want to change. They never wanted to listen. It made me angry, so I left. Ended up here, with a dead mother and a dead brother and the nightmares to keep me awake.”
“Wait, you don’t— You don’t blame yourself, do you?”
His hand closed around hers but she pulled herself from her lying position, trying to make him face her, even if they couldn’t see each other. When he rolled over to her side, she held him just she did then, her arms surrounding him, his face against her skin.
“You were a child. No child can fight their parent and win, you don’t deserve this burden.”
Lying down in her arms, it wasn’t red behind closed eyes anymore.
“I’m sure you did your best. It’s not a crime to live. I’m... glad you lived.”
There it was again. The feeling, consuming him from the inside and out.
“You can’t see it, can you? All the good you do. All the people who are thankful for what you do, the respect with which you treat everyone and how much it means for them. It’s not fulfilling because you won’t let it. You say men are assholes but you said it to me while showing me kindness. You deserve more, So. You should allow it to yourself.”
“Ha Jin.”
The fabric of his shirt on her was warm to the touch. He ran his hand on its surface, past her waist, up her back.
“Why are you here?”
Her laugh was a little breathless.
“Because I want to.”
He reached past her and turned the lampshade on the nightstand on. She looked up at him with the big, round, expressive eyes he liked so much. His face hovered above hers, a hand touching her red cheek, caressing it.
“Wh—”
“I wanted to look at you.” He watched the erratic rise and fall of her chest. “Is this not what you wanted?”
It felt like forever before she nodded, slowly. With her confirmation, his hand moved down, rested on her waist. She didn’t seem to know what to do with hers after she had lost control of the situation she created.
“Say it again,” he whispered and her eyes danced, switched between sustaining his gaze and focusing on his lips.
“What?”
“My name.”
Her hands started to find their way to his shoulders.
I was afraid you were letting me go.
Her smile was beautiful under that light.
“So.”
She deserved all the right steps, but he skipped some of them. Kissed her deeply, stole her air and her taste. She breathed his name as he kissed down her neck, her body arching to his touch, her legs parting and wrapping around him. Some women had marked him, had given him scars to nights he no longer remembered. Go Ha Jin’s laughter was forever imprinted to his memory, her giggles when he found a ticklish spot, her smile against his mouth. She deserved all the right steps and he may have skipped some but not all of them, she had to enjoy it as much as he did, feeling her every reaction under his fingertips, and he thought and spoke her name, over and over again. When she looked at him with affection he came undone, his fingers lacing with hers and he felt greedy. She made him greedy. Selfish. Needy of her. You deserve more.
Do I deserve you?
Her head was lying on his arm when he started to drift off, the roles back into place, if not for her hand in his hair, tender, overwhelming. He touched his forehead to hers and wrapped his other arm tighter around her, pulling her closer. Don’t let me go.
He slept and dreamed of her.
  He woke up and reached out for her but she wasn’t there. The bed was cold on her side like a bad joke, a half-remembered dream. He was thinking about departures and empty spaces when he heard sounds coming from his kitchen. He got dressed and walked there slowly, afraid that it’d be a phantom memory of the night before, an unfounded fear for a man who so desperately tried to cling to reality.
She was there, in her blue dress. Moving around with a contented look on her face, still trying to tame the bangs that she couldn’t tie in a low ponytail.
“For someone who chased after me when we met, you’re sure bound to disappear when I look for you.”
Ha Jin startled, almost dropping the bowl she was holding. He rushed to her side, steadying her, taking the bowl from her hands and setting it on the table. She held his gaze for a few seconds before she resumed what she was doing, checking the pans. He stepped back and watched her, not a word between them. She regrets it. He ran a hand through his hair and started to walk away the moment she spoke.
“I was... embarrassed.”
He looked back at her. She still hadn’t turned his way.
“Last night was— I had never...” There was a nervous ache in his stomach. She had never—? “Wook was sweet but he never looked at me the way you did. Do. When I woke up this morning and watched you sleep, I felt like that girl again, the one you met. And... more. I didn’t think you’d want her. I didn’t want to feel that way again but I couldn’t help it. I don’t know.” She touched her face with the back of her hand again and he didn’t think she was brushing her hair. With a chipper voice she added, “Breakfast will be done soon! You should go wash up.”
No.
His arms circled her from behind and she stilled. He inhaled the smell of her hair and it was a mystery he couldn’t decipher, how her scent was still sweet after a night spent with him, in his place, on his bed. How she could still be herself and somehow still want to be with him, he who had nothing to give but himself.
Don’t let go.
“You’re spoiling me,” he said, looking at what she was preparing. “At this rate, I won’t want any other food but yours.”
She placed her hands on his but he could still feel her uncertainty, the fear of the woman she used to be. The one who was so easily deceived, so easily tossed aside, when her heart was filled with earnestness. He leaned down, mouth close to her ear, and whispered,
“Next time, don’t leave by yourself.”
He left for his morning routine. When he arrived back at the kitchen later, she was bright and radiant again, and they ate in peace.
  The nightmares stopped after a while, even if the insomnia didn’t. She made him talk about the house in the dead of night. The red painting on the outside, the vast rooms on the inside. Running, running through the halls with Eun in tow. He’d be proud of you now, she’d say, and he didn’t see how Eun could be proud of him, but he saw the reflection on her eyes and knew she meant it. Fake it until you make it, he didn’t believe in anything but he believed in her, washing away the pain and replacing it with resignation. She always seemed impressed when he closed a case and he didn’t know how much of it was her true heart and how much of it was encouragement, her sneaky ways to make him feel like a man. It worked, anyhow. And he made her happy, he felt he did, without much effort at all. Accepting her. Her lectures, I’m cutting down your caffeine intake if it’s the last thing I do, her food, her details, looking at the picture of the Wang Manor like she wished she could have been there. He wished she could have been there, too. He held her in the morning, feeling her turn around in his arms, and he lingered in bed, freed from the impulse to just get up and bury himself in work. He was more productive that way. She tricked him into taking cases he didn’t want. Everybody won.
They came one day, in the middle of the afternoon.
He heard a commotion in the reception room and then he heard her yelling. He ran, taking the gun he hated from its place in his drawer, jumped over his desk and opened the door wide—
The barrel of a gun was pointed to the space between his eyes before he could even raise his weapon. They held her by the arms, dressed in black, all of them, shades covering their eyes and masking their appearances, and she struggled but the men were stronger, dragged her away.
“So!”
“I’m going to kill you,” he spoke between his teeth to the man in front of him. “If you harm her in any way, if you touch one strand of her hair, I will find you—”
“So, don’t!” Her feet were off the floor and she had to turn her head to look at him. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay!”
I’m supposed to be saying it to you, he thought, but he never looked away from the man in front him, memorizing the shape of his nose, chin, ears, everything, memorizing everything.
“I’ll come for you,” he said, but his words were for her.
“Don’t.”
It was the last thing she said to him.
He counted the seconds after they were gone, one, two, three, and then he stormed after them, gun in hand, just in time to see the black car with no plate number drive away. His mind worked fervently to not forget a single detail that would lead him back to her. His heart agonized over what they could want with her, what they could do to her. Who was it? Someone from his past, catching up to him? Someone he put away, back with a vengeance, taking it out on her?
He waited for days for a phone call, for a demand, he would sell his soul to get her back. It never came. Once he decided to look for her, he realized that he had no idea where to begin. He didn’t know where she lived, didn’t know the name of her parents. He called every single Go on the phone book but none of those households had a girl named Ha Jin. She knew everything about him, every crooked corner, every scream in his nightmares, and he didn’t know a thing about her. Love had made him sloppy, careless.
Love.
During the day he asked everyone in his neighborhood about her, but no one had anything to say. The owner of the flower shop shook his head vehemently and shut the door on his face. At night, he wondered who she was, if she was being fed properly, if they let her sleep, and despite everything, every question without answer, he wanted to see her again. Needed. Ached.
It was on a stormy night. Pouring down, the sky flashing with menace. The pounding on his door sounded like thunder for a second or two before he jumped off his bed, heart in his throat, feet barely touching the floor. When he opened the door, she was there. Soaked to the bone, hands and feet bleeding.
“So,” was all she said before she collapsed forward, into his arms, and the relief robbed him of his strength, of his balance. He sat on the floor with her, crying into her hair, whispering things he would never remember, and she listened, still conscious but weak, nodding with her eyes closed. “So, I’m cold.”
He picked her up — lighter, she was lighter — and brought her to the bathroom, where he filled the tub with warm water. He stripped her of her dirty wet clothes and treated her wounds while she regained some of her color back, gently wiping the blood away, not too many scratches, just enough to prove her fight. She was braver than he would ever be; there was only anger in him where there was courage in her. He dried and clothed her, carefully, catching her if she fell. Then he brought her to his room where he could watch over her, where no one would ever take her away again.
“So,” she called, but he hushed her, caressed her face.
“We’ll talk in the morning. Just rest for now.”
Her eyes filled with tears and he lied down with her, pulling her into his embrace, rubbing her back and massaging her scalp until she fell asleep. He made her breakfast the next morning, bringing it on a tray and feeding her while her hands were bandaged. She didn’t eat much but it was better than nothing. After she was done, he put everything away and turned to her.
“What happened? Who were they and why did they take you?”
He saw she was about to cry again.
“Ha Jin, you don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to, but I need to keep you safe and I don’t know where to begin.”
He wiped her tears away but she wouldn’t look at him.
“Ha Jin.”
“I lied.”
His blood ran cold with fear.
“About what?”
“My name. It’s not Go Ha Jin.”
She stared at her hands and he watched her flex her fingers, gather up her strength to speak. She inhaled deeply.
“My name is Hae Soo.”
“Hae...?”
His eyes widened.
“Of the Hae Family? Head of the biggest crime syndicate in town, that Hae Family?”
She nodded, the tears falling on her blanket.
“I... I wanted to leave. I was tired of the control and the hushed meetings behind closed doors, tired of that big, clean, empty house. I had no reason to stay after my mother passed away. At first I just wanted to run away but then I met Wook and I could only think of beginning a new life with somebody else, and then there was you, and...” She smiled in her tears. “I enjoyed cooking for you in the early morning, while everyone else still slept. Loved working with you, while they thought I was with a friend.” She looked at him then, he had never seen her like that. Not broken, not like that time, but devastated, desperate. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I didn’t know how to say it, I felt I couldn’t tell you, I could never tell you, you were too... good. You were too good for me, So, and I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to lie.”
He got up from the bed and walked to the window. He could hear her crying while his mind formed her picture out of every piece. Why she never talked about herself, why she never let him take her home, and why she liked hearing about his family, wishing she were somewhere else with him.
“All this time, I never even suspected it.”
He turned to her and saw her sobbing onto her knees. Sitting next to her, he placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Ha Jin, I’m impressed.”
Her head turned sharply in his direction, surprise evident on her tear-stained face.
“You’re... Not mad?”
He shook his head, using his sleeves to dry her tears.
“Disgusted? Deceived? Fearful for your life?”
He smiled at her, shaking his head again.
“It’s going to take much more than that to make me dislike you or leave you. Let’s say... You’d have to be reborn as an entirely different person.”
She flung herself at him, almost knocking him back. He let out a breathless laughter and tried to accommodate her on his lap, rubbing her back, comforting her as much as he found comfort in her being with him.
“I promise not to lie to you again,” she spoke against his shoulder.
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t know. I’d hopelessly believe your every word, Miss Go Ha Jin.”
“I love you.”
He pushed her back to look at her, at her beautiful, flushed face. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt, avoiding eye contact.
“I’m not... lying. I did jump out of a second-story window to find my way back to you.”
With a hand against the back of her neck, he pulled her into a kiss. A slow, tender kiss, her wounded hands lying on his shoulders, unable to tangle themselves in his hair, to hold him too tightly. He kissed her like she ought to be kissed, not with passion, not this time, but a kiss of home. A first kiss. His caution in the wind, at the mercy of her will. She looked dazed when they parted, intoxicated with happiness.
“What are we going to do? They’ll be looking for you, they must have already noticed I’m gone.”
He touched her hair lovingly, her head resting on his shoulder.
“I have a plan.”
He spoke as the sun shifted in the sky, casting shadows on their corner of the world. After he was done, Hae Soo — Go Ha Jin, grinned.
“Bring me a knife, Mr. Wang.”
  They kicked the door to his office down. The man he had seen the other day stared at him from the entrance while the other men stood on each side of him. The client in front of him just continued to smoke her cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side, ignoring the commotion.
“Where is she?” Asked the man he vowed to kill.
“You took her away from me and now you lost her? Your incompetence astounds me.”
The man gritted his teeth.
“Trash the place!” He ordered, and the other men did as they were told, tumbling down his archives, stepping on his files, all but taking the shelves off the walls. Wang So kept on looking at the man by the remains of his door, a cold stare.
“I’m a man of my word, lackey,” he said, and the man cackled.
“Stop by the Hae Manor whenever you want to settle our score, detective.”
“Is it always like this?” Asked the woman in a detached tone, flipping her slick, short hair over her shoulder. She clicked her tongue, the sound coming off her red lips in discontentment, lifting one glove-clad hand to brush her bangs into place, over her left eye.
“I’m sorry about this, Miss Yeon Hwa.”
“It’s fine, Mr. Detective. Just proves you’re good at what you do.”
“I’d look for a different detective, miss. This one might not live until the end of the month.”
The woman made a dismissive gesture with her hand and the men, already done with their orders, walked out, only the leader staying behind. Wang So never stood up from his chair and it seemed to anger the man more than going back empty-handed.
“If you so much as look at the young miss again, detective, you should consider yourself a dead man.”
“I’d rather not deal with crime syndicates, lackey. You tell that to your boss. I don’t have the money to cover up for all the shit you leave behind.”
The man walked away, his heavy footsteps echoing until he was out of the building. Wang So and his client waited with bated breath. After a few seconds, So stood up and walked to the window, now without the blinds, to watch their car drive away.
“I almost can’t believe it worked, but I’m not exactly surprised.”
Her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way to his side. Her dress, form-fitting and of an astounding navy blue, shimmered in the poor light. She took off her gloves to check if her bandages were all in place, stepping out of the heels that hurt her wounded feet.
“I knew the shawl would do the trick.”
She laughed, throwing the thing on his face.
“Admit it, you had the hots for Yeon Hwa.”
He hummed, sneaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
“I think the red lipstick looks much better on you.”
“Does it?” She asked with genuine curiosity, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “I feel completely out of my element here. Is the short hair weird?”
“You’re always beautiful, Ha Jin.”
He kissed her lightly, just a touch of lips, making her laugh when her lipstick spread all over his.
“What now?” She asked.
“Your documents will be ready by the end of the week. We’ve distracted them for now so I don’t think they’ll be stopping by my place soon, giving us plenty of time to smuggle Go Ha Jin into a different city.”
“What about you?” She asked, eyebrows knitting together. “When are you leaving?”
“After they trash my place and find no trace of you.”
“Will you be okay, So? What if they hurt you? What if they follow us?”
He pushed back the hair framing her face, a gentleness he never thought he would possess.
“They can follow us to the ends of the Earth, I still won’t let you go.”
She smiled up at him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was funny to him how her most innocent gestures warmed his heart so.
“How are we going to set up the new office, So? And your new place?”
“I didn’t send away all of my family’s money, Ha Jin. And besides, we have Miss Yeon Hwa’s money.” He grinned. “I told you it was worth taking her case.”
“You just liked her dress, Mr. Wang.”
“You can’t prove it.”
“I’m wearing a similar one. This was your plan.”
“Completely unrelated, Ha Jin.”
“Of course it is.”
He rolled his eyes and she just giggled.
  In a different city, a phone rang and a voice answered, “Wang So PD, this is Go speaking, how may we help you?” After setting an appointment, this lady assistant would lead you into his office and there she would stay by the man’s side, both listening to the story you had to tell. You’d find them together at the scene you described, a camera in her hand, taking pictures wherever he pointed, and a notepad in his, noting down everything he saw. They worked from dawn till dusk, relentlessly, to solve your problem. If you couldn’t afford it but the matter was of importance to you, they would listen. And if their workload permitted, they would help you. On the wall behind his desk would always sit the old photograph of a red manor that no longer existed in this world.
The streetlights were the same wherever they went. The city mattered little next to her arms circling around him.
“Do you want some tea?” She asked, her cheek resting against his back, listening to the hum of his agreement. His hands rested upon hers, their rings shining together like twin stars. He turned in her arms to look at her, cup her cheeks, adore the red lipstick that she took upon wearing. “You looked tired.”
“I am,” he admitted.
“Well, your fiancée will take care of you. Just tell me what you want for dinner tonight.”
“I think my fiancée can help me in many different ways tonight.”
Their lips were almost touching when the black phone started to ring. The office clock signaled it was 8pm. Wang So stared long at the device and Ha Jin had taken two steps towards it when he pulled her back by the hand and scooped her up in his arms. She let out a startled yelp, throwing her arms around his neck, and he proceeded to ignore the ringing completely, striding towards the hidden door to their home, crossing the threshold and locking it, leaving the office and his duty behind.
“Is it okay? What if it was important?” She asked, but he simply laid her down on the couch, his weight carefully placed on hers.
“What if it was your father asking for you? I’m not giving you back.” He leaned in, his breath tickling her ear, her skin, making her shiver. “Hae Soo.”
What was once the source of her fear turned into their biggest shared secret, passionate on their lips, hot on their chests. He called her Hae Soo, Go Ha Jin, but mostly he called her his, masking the fact that he had always been hers from the beginning. He faked it terribly, for she knew. With her every touch, her every word, he followed her, an addict to her love. A family of her own making. A good man she found all on her own, right in her yard. Wang So, Private Detective.
He loved her laughter in their kisses, when they made love.
He never turned on the light. He could see her clearly, under the nightlights.
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