Last Train to Seoul: 운명
Walking Han River
The soft murmur of the Han River was a balm to Ha-eun’s restless mind as she followed Ji-won along the tree-lined path. The city’s hum felt distant here, replaced by the gentle ripple of water and the rustle of autumn leaves swirling underfoot.
Above them, the sky bled into soft shades of twilight, casting long shadows on the pavement and turning the river to liquid silver. The iconic Seoul skyline stood silhouetted in the distance, its lights reflecting like scattered stars across the water’s surface.
Ji-won walked quietly beside her, a tension curled beneath his calm exterior. He glanced at her, eyes reflecting the fading light, searching for words that seemed just out of reach.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night,” he finally said, voice low and uncertain. “About you.”
Ha-eun looked away toward the river, heart fluttering with the weight of their shared history. “Me too. But things aren’t simple… you have your life, your…” She trailed off, the unspoken word lingering between them like mist.
Ji-won nodded. “Engagement. Responsibility.” His fingers clenched briefly before loosening, the grip of duty and desire battling within him. “But there’s this feeling like the river, always moving, carving its own path despite obstacles.”
Ha-eun’s eyes met his. “Maybe we’re like that too. Trying to find a path through… everything.”
They walked a little farther, the silence filled only by the river’s soft song and footsteps syncing in careful harmony.
“I want to be honest,” Ji-won said after a pause. “With you, and with myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I also can’t deny what feels real.”
Ha-eun’s breath caught, the vulnerability in his confession stirring a fragile hope tangled deeply with fear.
The river stretched endlessly, a symbol of change and continuity. In that moment, beneath the twilight sky, both of them stood at a crossroads their hearts quietly entwined with the currents of fate and choice.