[ carry ] (from Haneul)
Consciousness returned in fragments, delicate as glass.
The first thing she recognized was motion, the steady rhythm of steps echoing through rain-washed streets, each one measured and unhurried. Then there was warmth, pressing against her front, a quiet anchor against the chill night. Her body shifted with each rise and fall, not of her own accord but borne along as though she were weightless.
Her lashes lifted with effort, the world swam before her eyes. Blurred neon bending into rivers of color across wet pavement, shadows spilling long and distorted. Slowly, albeit sluggishly, she realized her arms were looped around someone’s shoulders, her legs draped to either sides. She was being carried, her cheek resting heavily against the stranger’s shoulder.
Unease prickled faintly through the fog of her mind. Who was he? Where was she? The question flared sharp, but exhaustion dulled their edge almost at once. Her body felt too heavy, her thoughts too slow to hold panic for long.
Instead, she listened.
The stride beneath her was even, almost deliberate, carrying her as though she were precious cargo rather than a burden. Rain whispered across her skin, but the warmth holding her steady never faltered. Beneath her ear, she caught the muted cadence of breath, the deep rhythm of a heartbeat, steady and unbroken; an anchor that kept her grounded amidst the haze.
Without thought, her arms moved.
Her fingers twitched weakly in the fabric of his coat, trembling on the edge of letting go. But then, as though her body decided in her stead, her grip tightened. Her arms drew closer around his shoulders, pulling herself in with a faint, instinctive strength that did not stem from fear, but something quieter; a need for the solidity he offered.
Her cheek nestled closer against the slope of his shoulder. The fabric smelled faintly of rain and ash, unfamiliar yet comforting. The motion lulled her, gentle and protective, as if the night had softened only for her.
Minjeong was still wary though, confusion stirring faintly at the edges of her thoughts, but the wariness dulled beneath the comfort of his steady steps. There was no menace in the way he carried her, only solace; the unwavering sense that she was safe.
Her lashes lowered once more, heavy with exhaustion. Everything around her blurred and faded away, but this time, she did not try to resist it. Against the warmth of his back, the soothing rhythm of his stride, and the hush of rain wavering through the silence, she surrendered to the certainty her body had already chosen: in his arms, there was no reason to be afraid.
