Chapter 12 : Where the Quiet Lives
The sun was gentle the next morning, streaming through pale curtains like a whispered apology for all the pain the world had dealt.
Yeri sat at the window, knees hugged to her chest, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. A soft breeze lifted strands of her hair, and for a moment, she allowed herself to pretend.
That life was ordinary.
That she was just… Yeri. Not the girl who had been hurt. Not the girl people tried to control. Just a girl watching the morning light touch the earth.
Then a knock.
She turned.
Yunjun stood at the door, hair a little messy, dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept much. Like he'd been keeping watch—even from afar.
"Hey," he said, voice soft.
"Hey," she replied.
He lingered for a moment. Then lifted a hand holding something.
"I made you tea."
She blinked. "You… made it?"
He gave a sheepish smile. "I tried."
She smiled despite herself, crossing the room to take the cup. Their fingers brushed, and even that gentle touch sent something warm fluttering through her chest.
He didn't leave.
"Can I sit?"
She nodded.
They settled into the small couch by the window. Not quite touching. Not quite apart.
For a while, the only sound was the quiet clink of porcelain and the distant birds outside.
Then Yunjun cleared his throat.
"There's something I want to show you."
She looked up. "What is it?"
He stood, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I was going to wait. But… maybe now is the right time."
He handed it to her. Hesitant. Vulnerable.
She unfolded it.
It was a plane ticket.
To a small seaside town.
One she had mentioned once—offhandedly—on a rainy night when he wasn't even sure she knew he was listening.
"You remembered," she whispered.
"I remember everything," he said simply. "I thought… maybe we could go. Just you and me. Somewhere with no guards. No games. No past."
Yeri stared at the ticket, emotions thick in her chest.
"You don't owe me this," she murmured.
He looked at her then. Really looked.
"It's not about what I owe you, Yeri. It's about what I *want* with you."
She lowered her eyes. "And what is that?"
"Time," he said. "Peace. A chance to make you smile without flinching."
She swallowed hard, heart aching.
"Okay," she said, finally. "Let's go."
**Two days later**, they were standing at the edge of the sea.
The town was quiet. No crowds. Just waves and gulls and the scent of salt in the wind.
Yeri wore a loose sundress, her hair dancing freely. The ocean wind made her cheeks pink. She hadn't smiled this easily in months.
Yunjun walked beside her, watching the way her eyes lit up when a wave crashed near her toes.
"You're laughing," he said like it was a miracle.
"I guess I am," she said, looking up at him. "You make it hard not to."
They walked along the shore, not rushing, letting the silence stretch without discomfort.
At one point, she paused.
"Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?"
Yunjun furrowed his brows. "You mean when we met?"
She nodded.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I said something cold. Probably gave you an order."
She smiled faintly. "You said, 'Don't get in the way.'"
He winced. "Sounds like me."
She turned to face him fully. "But now… you move mountains for me."
His voice dropped. "I'd burn the whole world if it meant you'd never cry again."
Her throat tightened. "Please don't."
"What?"
"Don't burn anything else. Just… be here. With me."
And that's what they did.
They found a little inn with white sheets and windows that opened to the sea. They walked barefoot on wooden floors, cooked breakfast together with burnt toast and laughter, and slept with the windows open, the sea singing them to sleep.
One night, as rain tapped gently on the roof, Yeri lay beside Yunjun, their hands loosely intertwined.
She spoke into the dark.
"Do you think it'll ever stop feeling like I'm running?"
He turned to face her. "Maybe not. But I'll run with you. Until the day you don't have to anymore."
She turned to him, eyes shining in the moonlight.
"And when that day comes?"
"I'll still be here."
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat beneath his ribs.
Safe. Steady. Home.
**But peace never lasts forever.**
On their last morning, a letter arrived at the inn. No sender. No return address.
Just Yunjun's name, written in jagged, angry ink.
He read it in silence, his face hardening as he folded it back into the envelope.
"What is it?" Yeri asked gently.
He hesitated.
"Business," he said, too flatly.
She sat up. "Yunjun—"
"I'll handle it."
But she caught his hand.
"Don't shut me out."
He looked at her. And in his eyes, she saw it—the weight of a life that never let him breathe.
"It's nothing you need to worry about," he said. But his voice had that edge again.
She didn't argue.
Not then.
But she knew the quiet was slipping.
That night, they stood at the train station, bags in hand.
Yeri watched the sun dip below the horizon, golden light bleeding into the clouds.
"You don't have to protect me from everything," she said suddenly.
He looked at her, surprised.
"I'm not made of glass, Yunjun. I want to be beside you… not behind you."
He stepped closer, brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"I know," he said. "And that's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because I'd rather break myself than let anything touch you again."
Her eyes filled. "Then promise me one thing."
He nodded.
"When things get dark again—and they will—promise you won't do it alone."
His throat worked. "I promise."
And this time, she believed him.
**Back in the city**, things had shifted.
Soojin met them at the gate, arms crossed, lips pressed tight.
"There's something you need to see," she said.
In the study, she laid out a file. Photos. Names. Documents.
"Jack had allies," she said. "Not just the ones you ruined. People deeper. Smarter. They're not done."
Yunjun frowned. "They want retaliation?"
Soojin nodded. "And they're watching Yeri."
Yunjun's jaw clenched. "Let them try."
But Yeri touched his arm. "No. We do this smart. Together."
Soojin raised an eyebrow. "She's stronger than you give her credit for."
"I know," he said. "That's what terrifies me."
**That night**, after the lights were off and the house fell into silence, Yunjun couldn't sleep.
He sat on the balcony, the city lights glittering like broken promises below.
Yeri joined him, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, wrapping a blanket around both of them.
"You're thinking again," she whispered.
He smiled faintly. "You make that sound like a bad habit."
She leaned against him. "Sometimes it is."
They sat in the hush.
Then he whispered, "I used to think love made you weak."
"And now?"
He looked at her. "Now I know it's what keeps me from becoming someone I hate."
She didn't reply.
She didn't need to.
Her fingers curled into his.
And under a sky bruised with stars, they stayed.
Together.
Unbroken.
To be continued....
Hey 🦋
Stay tuned for the next part....