Between the Lines || Jonghyun & Min
The streets in the evening always carried a sense of normalcy, it was a time when people dared to come out of whatever dingy place they called their home and children, though not in abundance, still roamed the streets enjoying themselves, momentarily forgetting the deteriorated world around them. Jonghyun sometimes found himself joining them, indulging them in their little games of football only to watch their smiles and laughter disappeared at the sound of an Infected off into the distance.
Even within the confines of the walls surrounding them, they were not safe and they took each and every measure they could to protect themselves that much was obvious from the weapons they carried whether concealed or out in the open. Even now, as Jonghyun cycled through the streets of Zone 3, his own bow lay folded and tucked at the side of his bicycle along with his assortment of arrows; a rather useful modification thanks to his usual mechanic.
He wasn’t travelling far today, just a minor detour on his way back from the hospital, one that took every now and again for unlike his many other detours, this one involved spending very little and gaining much in return. The bookstore, one that had gone through many changes over the years soon came into view as the young doctor parked his bicycle right outside, chaining it to a nearby metal bar just in case before reaching for his weapon and placing it inside of the rucksack he was wearing; one could never be too careful.
The bookstore itself was often, if not always empty save for the owner of the place who could often be found occupying herself by rearranging the various books on the selves; he was pretty sure it had become more of a compulsion than a habit now. He didn’t know much about Min besides her name, one that she’d supplied after a great deal of back of forth between the two but at the end of the day he almost always walked out of that bookstore with a handful of children’s books without having spent a thing.
He found her reorganizing some cookbooks, quite aware of his presence but whether she’d chosen him to ignore him or simply didn’t care, he didn’t know. Reaching into his rucksack he pulled out a few books and placed them on the counter, “I’m sorry, these books are well overdue. I hope you weren’t beginning to think I’d run off with them,” he spoke with a small smile, referring to the issuing system they’d adopted. “Compensation for my tardiness,” he continued, pulling out another item this time, in the form of a chocolate bar and placing it on top of the books, “As promised.”