Under The Red Tent
@ofpixiedusts:
Cold. Shivery. Winter slowly succumbs to the joy of spring but before exiting it made sure it will leave its mark in its final moment. In between the warming temperature came a wintry night equipped with its chilling breeze. And it hits her skin rather offensively, sending shivers and a wave of melancholy that came too recklessly. Haebitna held tighter to the her thin cardigan, unprepared with the cold wind and caught off guard with the sudden blues.
Sadness and solitude are friends, and perhaps both has decided beforehand to visit the bubbliest people as they tag along with the cold. And easily they had found her ambling along the busy street, and thus successfully causing her smiles to morph into a frown. Haebitna never walks without wearing them but the cold snatches it away tonight - like those other nights when the misery of yearning for her favorite person attacks her. It was a bit too late for her to realize that her steps have become heavier and her feet have dragged her to a place where she always try to defeat the cold and sadness altogether.
The steam allures her, her palate enticed but more than that, the insides of her body longs to be warmed. Her to-go place has always been here - it is one of the first few places Haebitna had familiarized in her first few days in Seoul when the anxiety of her separation with her dad was at its peak. Warmth. It was readily available with the display of the sumptuous fish cakes, dumplings, fish soup and tteokbeokgi as with the soft smile adorning the elder owning the stall. "Ahjussi!" Her words chime in a cheerful tone, courtly bowing in respect to the old man before taking a plate and filling them by herself with her favorites. The night is young and the tent is almost empty. Placing her comfort food on the plastic table, one that was across the only occupied table, Haebitna faces back the owner and even without asking, he already knew what the little lady had in mind. It doesn’t take him long. A green bottle is immediately served with a shot glass. Feigned smile was her grateful response to the hardworking man and he goes to serve one more bottle to his other customer before going back to where he was, cooking behind his small stall as he lets his dear patrons enjoy their time alone under his red tent.
One gulp of the alcohol came after the other, heat dissipating through her throat as her facial muscles relax from the smiles Haebitna has worn the entire day. Sometimes, it’s a lot easier not to pretend.