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It was five to midnight and normally this wasn’t such a difficult decision.
Then again, normally, the seven-eleven a few streets away from the restaurant she waitressed in had much more choice than this.
Staring irritantly at what little was left of the instant ramyeon noodles Olivia grumbled to herself and reached out for the familiar red packet that she just knew she’d regret come morning when the noodles somehow managed to burn more coming out than going in, but before she could ruminate on that further her hand bumped softly against another.
“Oh! I’m sorry.”
Awkwardly she stumbled over her Korean, the language still embarrassingly alien on her tongue despite living in Daegu for almost a year now. Just how she managed to stumble her way through daily life was a mystery to Olivia, and apparently, from the way the strangers eyes peered at her humorously from beneath his tousled inky fringe, he was having a similar train of thought too.
Rapidly averting her green gaze to the tiles in attempt to hide her crimson cheeks she heard him chuckle, clothes rustling as he leant into her briefly. A few moments later a pleasantly deep and raspy hum succeeded in pulling her attention back up to where his pale hand held out the ramyeon between them in a silent offer.
“Please, take it.”
He spoke in thickly accented English that was miles better than her mediocre, part butchered Korean.
“What? No! No, no... I can’t.”
“Sure you can, look, you just hold your hand out, grab the noodles, toddle off to the till and pay. Easy peasy.”
“But..”
“Please, I insist.”
He all but shoved the noodles into her hand, brows shooting up in surprise when she rapidly shoved them right back into his chest.
“Mister, you wanted them, take them. I insist.”
Rolling his eyes playfully he gave a gentle huff of laughter.
“Seriously, I won’t starve.”
“...You look like you might.”
She mumbled, raking her eyes over his slight frame clad in a plain white t-shirt beneath a tailored black jacket. It took a few moments for her to realise her words might be considered rude and she immediately began to back-track but he stopped her quickly, shoulders shaking as he laughed heartily.
“Don’t apologise...”
He peered down at himself, heat rising up his neck.
“...It’s, uh. Well, it’s been a busy couple of months. Hence the late night noodles.”
He gave the ramyeon a light shake and grinned as Olivia inadvertently snorted. She nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I know the feeling. It’s coming up to Christmas and the restaurant I work for is short staffed. Boss’s running me ragged. So, yeah... Late night noodles.”
The man smiled softly, dark almond eyes twinkling with mirth. He made a last ditch attempt at offering her the packet she was now sure didn’t contain a single noodle left intact.
“Seriously-“
She whined.
“-it’s fine. I’ll grab a sandwich or something from the fridge, go home and enjoy your ramyeon.”
She stepped around him pausing briefly, making a show of shooing him away towards the till.
I’m not a cat, that won't work.”
He deadpanned with a face full of dour, though, it was the upturned corner of his mouth that betrayed him.
“Butt. Till. Now.”
He obliged her with a laugh, hands held up in surrender for good measure. One last look was exchanged before he shook his head with a grin. Bowing at the waist before he made his way towards the checkout, the bell above the door tinkling in announcement of his departure only a few moments later.
Leaving her staring goo-goo eyed at the only packet of noodles left on the shelves. Times three spice level was not her thing so she shuffled around to the fridge, grabbing a simple sandwich as she finally headed to the counter. The friendly woman behind the counter greeted her in the same way she always did, a beaming smile and polite chatter consisting of correcting Olivia’s lingual mistakes as she rung through and bagged up her meagre dinner.
“How much do I owe?”
The shop keeper shook her head with a kind smile.
“Nothing, child. It’s been paid for.”
Olivia stared. Not sure if she understood correctly.
“Wh-”
“He told me give you these...”
Into the blue plastic bag she dropped the battered packet of ramyeon noodles.
***
“Fancy meeting you here.”
So immersed in choosing the perfect packet of noodles was she that she didn’t hear him approaching from the back of the store, she did however recognize his raspy baritone. Spinning on the worn sole of her work pumps Olivia found herself staring at a pair of familiar twinkling chocolate orbs.
“Who would’ve thought, eh?”
She responded, smiling.
“I’m glad I bumped into you actually, I wanted to thank you for yesterday.”
He shrugged awkwardly, burrowing his hands in the pockets of his padded parka. Remnants of snow melting slowly on his shoulders in the warmth of the shop.
“Ah, don’t mention it.”
He mumbled, watching her roll her eyes.
“I will mention it, it was very kind of you.”
“Well...”
He trailed off, not sure what to add. Choosing instead to fill the vaguely awkward silence between them with perusing the ramyeon section with her until she worked up the courage to break the tension.
“Shin or Jin?”
She questioned, holding out two noodle bowls as though her life depended on it. He eyed them and levelled her with the gummiest grin she’d ever seen.
“Jin are good but I prefer Shin.”
“Ah, another spice fanatic. That’s just as well cause I prefer Jin.”
The questioning look on his face deepened and Olivia felt compelled to continue. Shuffling her weight she dropped her gaze, suddenly finding the tattered laces of her pumps extremely interesting.
“Consider it a thank you. I thought we could make them here and then eat them under the bus shelter out there.”
She trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. Raising her eyes to meet his.
Food’s better shared, I think... Don’t feel you have too, though! I completely understand if you don’t want too. Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I overstepped did-”
“I’d love too.”
She’d never been silenced so simply before. But that did it. The knowing smirk he shot her killed any response on her lips as he grasped the instant noodle bowls from her hands and made his way towards the checkout. He paid with a simple swipe of a unusual black card, ushering her over to the opposite side of the store, heavy footsteps stalling in font of the make-shift ramyeon station. Tearing then lid from his bowl in one clean swipe, he set about making his noodles. Setting them aside to boil whilst he made hers.
“How do you like it?”
He asked, pausing his fumbling with the chopsticks to look at her expectantly. Humming lightly she gestured to his own steaming ramyeon with a curt nod of the head.
“...I’m not keen on ramyeon that’s made too soupy.”
“Soupy? You mean too much broth.”
“No, I mean soupy.”
“Surely ‘soupy’ is not a real word. You made that up!”
Olivia huffed at his light teasing.
“It is too a real word. In the English dictionary the word ‘Soupy ’ means a soup-like consistency... Google it.”
For a second she really believed he was going to pull his phone out and challenge her but when his smirk ebbed into a fond chuckle and he bumped his shoulder against hers with amusement, she too, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ready?”
He questioned. Adjusting his hood so it basically swallowed his head. Olivia raised a brow, poking him softly on his pale cheek.
“Are you on the run?“
Her query was jesting in nature but from the way simply shook his head and snatched his ramyeon bowl she realised she’d maybe gone too far. Regret swilled over her as she watched him stir his noodles, avoiding looking up at her despite obviously feeling the weight of her stare. She’d overstepped.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make jokes like that.”
He was quick to brush it off, moving out into the frigid air, waiting just outside the doors. Fresh snowflakes settling atop his hood. She scrambled to collect her belongings and trailed him. Keeping to his significantly larger footsteps.
“You’ve not offended me... And don’t even bother, you don’t need too.”
“Hmm?”
She hummed in response, too busy fighting with her ramyeon to issue a proper question. He peered at her and chuckled.
“You’ve got a habit of apologising when you have nothing to apologise for.”
“Yeah... Sorry.”
She was grinning through the same mouthful of noodles when he craned his neck back at her, shoulders slumping as he sighed dramatically.
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?”
“...Huh?”
“Sarcastic. Annoying.”
Olivia resisted the temptation to step on the back of his shoe in retaliation. Her faked indignation waning with the sound of his hearty laugh. It was nice. She noted the way his shoulders shook. Down the dimly lit street they meandered slowly, chatting in-between warming mouthfuls of noodles. The crunch of their shoes on the freshly settled snow and occasional hum of cars in the distance the only audible sounds for miles. Across the road, directly below a flickering street lamp a snow blanketed bus shelter promised half decent shelter. She sat first, back to the Perspex. Hot bowl held close to her chest.
“Where do you come from, ramyeon girl.”
Ignoring the way her cheeks flared fiercely at the pet name she swallowed before answering.
“The UK. Way down in Cornwall. You?”
“I was born here, but I live in Seoul.”
“Oh, wow. Seoul. So what brings you back to Daegu?”
“My brother. He got married yesterday.”
He gave a gentle smile, a twinkle in his eye that set her stomach aflutter.
“How about you, what brought you so far away from home?”
“My ex...”
The answer was short and more bitter in tone than she’d intended. A cautious but soft brush of his hand on her shoulder somehow managed to settle the roiling mass of her brain, though those thoughts continued to thrum steadily just below the surface. Through her coat and jumper the heat she felt from his touch was a figment of imagination, but the sparks igniting within her very being definitely weren’t. His eyes were kind and inviting and so was his gummy smile. He wasn’t expecting an elaboration, yet inexplicably, she felt obliged to give one.
“Do you want the long or short version.”
“Whichever you’re most comfortable with.”
And so she recounted in great detail the horrors of her past amazed at the way this kind, intriguing stranger that she’d known for all of five minutes listened intently through it all, comforting her when, inevitably, the dam crumbled and then tears began to fall.
Eventually, she continued. Telling him of the night she finally caught her ex with the other woman after months of secretly compiling evidence only to discover on that particularly stormy August night the other woman was none other than her little sister. Her closet friend and confident. Olivia sniffled through the tears, all the while aware of the large hand radiating warmth through her shoulder.
“The night I found them was the night before our wedding.”
Her voice was now nothing but a whisper yet he shook his head nonetheless, muttering in heated Korean.
“Moron. Is he still with your sister?”
She nodded.
“Expecting a baby next May. It’s one of the reasons I left.”
“Are you happier here?”
That question brought a grin to her face.
“Well, anything was better than home. But yeah. I’m happy here. I’ve made good friends, a job that at least pays my bills and a roof over my head... I’m free! I can do what I want, when I want without anyone making me feel this tall...”
She gestured with her thumb and index finger, a chuckle reverberating through her chest.
“I can live my life however I want without feeling ashamed.”
For a moment he studied her, eyes roaming over every inch of her as though he were committing her to memory. Icy fingertips ghosting up her neck to trace her jawline. She shivered at the contact.
“You’re something else, ramyeon girl.”
“I know. I can’t help it.”
And just like that they were back to laughing like long term buddies. For the first time in forever Olivia felt something akin to joy bubbling inside her, rooted in those breath-taking, tingling sparks that shot across her skin whenever she locked eyes with him. For the first time in forever, Olivia dared to let herself believe.
***
It was as she was watching the chef plate up the order she was currently waiting on she came to the sudden and slightly alarming conclusion that of all the things she’d learned about her late night friend, his name was not one of them. Nor what he did for a living. He became suspiciously cagey around those subjects and that did nothing to quash those newly emerging thoughts he may actually be a man on the run. And if that was the case, the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in her stomach over the past couple of days were far from ideal.
“Ah, Olivia!"
Her boss came crashing a through the double doors behind her, wide eyed with salt and pepper hair uncharacteristically on end. He rushed up to her, frazzled.
“Serve your customer and hurry back! We have a VIP booking.”
“VIP? What?”
“Idol.”
He responded with a flourish of his wrist and she had to clamp her teeth together to keep her jaw from hitting the floor.
“An idol booked a table here?!”
“Ya! It’s not unusual to have these kinds of bookings, brat!”
He chastised her with a decidedly sour face, though his eyes twinkled at her fondly. Olivia snickered, grabbing the steaming plate of fried chicken as it was placed on the stainless steel hatch before her. Thanking Moon-Jae as he held a door open she hurried across the restaurant floor weaving between the tables until she reached the table in the corner. The patron smiled and thanked her politely, digging in as soon as she turned her back to him and scurried to the kitchen. No sooner was she through the doors was Moon-Jae on her.
“Go set up the back room.”
Olivia blinked.
“I’m Serving him?”
“He requested you specifically.”
“What?! But I’ve never served an idol... How does he know me?”
Moon-Jae shrugged, practically kicking her out the kitchen.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Go! He’s booked for nine.”
Olivia unlocked the VIP room and scanned it briefly, pleased to find it in need of only a light spruce. She worked quickly, lighting the floating candles and fluffing the cushions just as the clock stuck nine and Moon-Jae poked his head through the door. Eyebrows raised in a silent question. She nodded curtly, watching him slowly open the door. He shuffled into the room a masked, hooded figure trailing only a few steps behind him. After a brief exchanging of pleasantries, Moon-Jae handed him a menu and scarpered, but not before sending her a very pointed look.
The door clicked softly, leaving them alone studying one another closely, she couldn’t make out much of him, his hood and face covering masked the majority of his identity. He shuffled and Olivia suddenly noted how wary he seemed. He seemed rooted to the spot. And now that she was paying attention a niggle was eating away at the back of her brain.
Something about him sparked an odd recognition, the proud way he held himself, perhaps. Or was it the fact those bourbon eyes hadn’t strayed from her once. He bowed politely, forcing Olivia to clumsily return the gesture drawing a chuckle from him that fuelled the gears turning in her head. Deep, raspy and so very familiar. Her feet moved on their own accord bringing her to stand before him. He wasn’t much taller than her, a few inches or so yet he seemed to tower over her.
She was certain it was him, her midnight man. His ebony hair swept over thick brows in the same cut, smile hidden beneath a simple black fabric mask yet she could see it in the way those eyes creased with the movement. Uncertainly she reached up, fingers ghosting against the cotton covering the lower half of his face.
“Can I?”
She whispered, having to wait only a few seconds for him to nod his affirmation. He watched intently, brows furrowed as she slowly peeled the mask away, unsure whether to laugh or cry she stared unblinking at his serious face. The idol she knew as Min Yoongi, stood bashfully before her with a sheepish Smile. Suddenly everything clicked into place and Olivia struggled to understand how she hadn’t recognized him before.
“So, I guess you’re not on the run after all.”
Any tension she sensed in him waned. He beamed, exhaling heavily in relief.
“No, I’m not.”
He murmured tenderly, inching closer to her. Olivia hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of her lips.
“That’s good.”
His fingers threaded through the chestnut waves resting around her collarbones.
“Are you busy tonight?“
“For instant ramyeon in a bus shelter?”
Yoongi snorted, raking his fingers bashfully through his hair. His cheeks turning a ferocious shade of pink.
“So... What do you say, ramyeon girl?”
“... There’s a great little seven-eleven just over the road. I hear they sell the best ramyeon in Daegu.”