When the Han River Sleeps
When the River Sleeps No More
The 한강 flowed with restless grace beneath a twilight sky that spilled hues of amber and rose over Seoul—a city alive with stories whispered in every gust of breeze and shimmer of light. Yuna and Jihoon sat close on the riverbank, surrounded by the soft cascade of falling cherry blossoms, their petals painting the night with fleeting beauty.
Jihoon lifted his guitar, fingers moving over the strings with gentle reverence. The melody that emerged was unlike any before—filled with vulnerability and hope, a song forged from their shared history, pain, and the promise of what lay ahead.
Yuna closed her eyes, absorbing the notes that filled the air like a warm embrace. The music spoke of journeys traveled, fears confronted, and love that refused to be silenced by the shadows of the past.
Her hand found Jihoon’s, their fingers weaving together like the river’s endless current, strong and unyielding.
“This river,” she whispered, voice trembling with emotion, “it never truly sleeps. It flows relentlessly—just like us.”
Jihoon nodded, eyes mirroring the shimmering water. “No matter where life takes us, our song will carry on—echoing in each new dawn.”
The city lights twinkled around them, stars stretched across the sky, and somewhere far away, the soft laughter of the market drifted through the cool air.
Together, beneath the blooming trees and the watchful moon, Yuna and Jihoon found their place—not as perfect souls, but as companions moving forward with courage, love, and the ceaseless rhythm of the river guiding their way.