Page 26 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)

He cupped my cheek, holding my gaze for a moment, before pulling away and taking out his phone to answer it. I immediately felt the cold of the oncoming night, a chill to replace the heat of only a moment ago.

I rubbed my arms as I heard Jihoon speaking. I couldn’t understand his words, but his tone was clear enough. Resigned. Before long, he hung up and turned back to me, his expression sad.

“We have to go,” was all he said. All he needed to say. Our time was up. I nodded and bent to pick up our rubbish. Jihoon grabbed the bottles and together we walked over to a mixed recycling bin. The clink of the bottles as they fell into the glass-receptacle was loud in the still air .

We opted to walk along the path instead of the beach, heading back towards the beaconing lights of the pier and its fairground.

Jihoon had pulled his hat back on, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, but just as I did, Jihoon surprised me.

“No,” he said, pulling my hand out of my pocket and firmly taking it in his, his fingers gripping me in a gentle, but possessive hold that made my heart stutter.

“Is this okay?” I asked quietly, conscious of the few people that still milled around.

“Tonight, I don’t care.” His tone was as firm as his hand and so I chose to enjoy the moment, trying to preserve it in my mind.

Even as far as we’d walked, the pier still came close too soon, the lights getting brighter, the shouts and music louder, every step feeling more leaden, and before I was ready ? if I’d ever be so ? the SUV with the blacked-out windows came into view, still in the same place.

“They must have gotten so many tickets today,” I muttered. Jihoon snorted.

As we approached the car, the passenger door opened and out stepped Youngsoo .

“All done?” he asked, and the phrasing was so bizarre that I could have put it down to his English, but I couldn’t help but think he was asking if Jihoon had gotten it out of his system. Gotten me out of his system.

Instead of answering the question, he said, “We’ll take Kaiya home first.” Youngsoo’s mouth pinched, but he nodded and opened the rear door for us. Jihoon helped me into the car and then slid in beside me.

“Hello,” I said politely, bowing my head to the other occupants, who I’m sure must have had a pretty miserable day, sitting all day in a hot car.

I spied some crumpled paper bags littering the door pockets though, so it looked like they at least availed themselves of the delicious stall food on the pier.

Eun politely returned my nod, while the driver muttered a quiet, “Hello”.

I told them my address and the driver plugged it into the car’s satnav and then we pulled away, the lights from the pier following us down the street, visible long after we’d turned away.

We were well into the evening now, so traffic was as quiet as it ever got in LA, and we slipped through it silently, with not even the radio to break the silence.

The tension from Youngsoo was clear, but Jihoon didn’t seem to care. He hadn't let go of my hand yet, his thumb sweeping softly across my skin in a way that constantly radiated tingles that danced up my wrist.

The car was silent as we bumped along the sometimes-patchwork streets, the flash of the streetlights only increased the feeling of disapproval that seemed to pour off Youngsoo in waves.

Yet, with how firmly Jihoon was holding my hand, it somehow felt as though we were grounded in this moment together, the dark gaps of time between the halos of street lights a bubble of time that contained only us.

Too soon, we were turning down my street.

My hand unconsciously tightened on Jihoon’s, a tether to hold me to him for that much longer, and this time I knew I felt tears prickling in the corners of my eyes.

We pulled up in front of my building, and out of habit, I looked out the window and up at our apartment and wasn’t completely surprised to see a curtain twitch.

I smiled a wry smile at the thought that Becka was looking out for me.

I almost couldn’t look at Jihoon because I was afraid his face would mirror what I was feeling, but even though it hurt, I also couldn’t stop looking at him, so desperate to hold onto any image of him that I could keep.

I wanted to ask him what this was. I wanted some reassurance of tomorrow. I wanted so many things I didn’t have any way to articulate. I also knew I had never been guaranteed any kind of promise. I needed to make peace with what had been.

“I don’t know what to say.” My words were soft, but the meaning was clear. I had too much to say in a car full of people, and nothing to say that would even suffice.

“I understand.” He didn’t smile and I could have sworn I saw the sad pinch of his beautiful eyes.

“Will you text me when you land?” I asked impulsively, but immediately regretted it. “You don’t have to. I know you’ll be tired and busy and…” I tapered off, feeling foolish, pulling my gaze from his, but he only angled his head down to keep my gaze.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes.”

I smiled, but it wavered. I tried again, and this time, I managed to keep it there, a testament to my willpower.

“Thank you for today. It was… it was the best.” I didn’t have the words, so I didn’t even try.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the front door to the building open, a figure stepping out. Becka. Stood there with her arms folded across her chest, I couldn’t tell if she was cross, or worried. Knowing her it could have been both.

“Looks like I better go,” I nodded my head to Becka.

Jihoon briefly glanced out the window before looking back at me.

I could see the indecision warring across his face and so, to spare him from this moment becoming something it couldn’t be, I leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, so quickly it was barely there, just a fluttering of lips on skin, before I spun around and opened the car door, sliding out all in one fluid move, a rare moment of grace for me, but right when it counted.

I turned around just once, a fleeting glimpse of his face as the door closed, me outside and him a world apart. I stood there for a moment, watching as the car pulled away, dragging a piece of me with it .

“Are you ok?” Becka asked from behind me. The question surprised me. Shouldn’t she be asking if I’d had a good day, or what did we do? But something in the way I held myself must have told her the thing to say.

Because no. I was not ok. I heard her walk the few steps towards me before I turned and fell against her, the dam breaking as I sobbed into her shoulder.

End Of Part One.