Under the soft hush of midnight, Seoul’s heartbeat quiets and the Han River, veiled in mist, becomes a silent confidant to two souls adrift.
Yuna, an aspiring illustrator tangled in family expectations, finds solace sketching city lights by the water’s edge—until an unexpected encounter with Jihoon, a secretive composer chasing melodies in the dark, sparks a fragile hope.
Their worlds collide under the shimmering bridge lights, each carrying heartbreak, secret dreams, and a longing for connection they barely dare to admit.
As spring unfurls and cherry blossoms drift on cold breezes, Yuna and Jihoon’s night-time meetings reveal laughter, awkward hesitations, and quiet tears. But as old wounds threaten to resurface, will the Han’s silent witness see their hearts heal, or watch them say goodbye before dawn?
This story blends poetic introspection, urban atmosphere, and the warmth of fleeting moments where love, like the sleeping river, waits to be awakened.
Shadows and Sketches Yuna shivered, pulling her denim jacket closer as a breath of spring swept off the water. Above, the bridge lights flickered with hesitant energy, their reflection stretching long and uncertain over the sleeping Han River. She traced the scene with delicate pencil strokes, the tip scratching softly against her sketchbook. Her fingers
Petals on Concrete Morning found Yuna hunched at her tiny kitchen table, trying to capture dawn’s glow in watercolor before fully waking. The river’s quiet, the city’s hush all blurred into a gentle ache beneath her ribs. Her mother bustled in, floral apron tied tight. “Did you stay up late again? Your eyes…” Mrs. Min’s
Rhapsody in Moonlight Jihoon sat on the riverbank that evening, fingers curled around guitar strings, waiting for the city’s noise to fade. He played in fits and starts, letting unfinished melodies spill onto the water. Lamp posts flickered behind him, casting sprawling shadows that tangled with the roots of old willow trees. Yuna approached quietly,
Scent of 떡볶이 and Spring Yuna balanced two trays in the busy café, steam fogging her glasses. The sharp, sweet tang of 떡볶이 wafted over sun-dappled tables, tugging at her memory of late-night cravings and laughter with Ah-reum. Outside, spring deepened—the city awash with pink, hope blooming across every cracked sidewalk. By noon, Yuna’s stomach rumbled. Ah-reum waved
Echoes and Unspoken Words The morning light was soft, but Jihoon’s thoughts throbbed with restless shadows. His small apartment smelled faintly of old sheet music and the faint bitterness of black coffee left too long. He toyed with a new composition, each note hesitant, searching for something he couldn’t name. His phone buzzed—a message from
Traces of the Past The days lengthened and Yuna found herself caught in the fragile warmth of early spring. Yet beneath the budding hope, a scattering of old memories hovered, unspoken but present. Sitting alone by the 한강, her sketchbook open but blank, she traced invisible shapes in the mist. At the café, Ah-reum’s teasing was
Beneath the Lantern Light The soft glow of paper lanterns swayed gently over the 새벽시장, casting a warm amber hue that softened the night’s chill. The market hummed with quiet energy—the clatter of bowls, the fragrant steam of simmering broths, and the gentle murmur of whispered conversations. Yuna arrived early, clutching her sketchbook close against the
Crossing Bridges Rain began softly—a tinkling rhythm against the tiled rooftops, mingling with the evening’s quiet murmur. Yuna stood beneath the awning of a small bookstore, watching droplets race down fogged glass, the city reflected like gasps of light in the wet streets. The scent of wet earth mixed with memories, bittersweet and raw. Jihoon
Unspoken Goodbyes The city hummed with the bustle of evening commuters, neon signs flickering as dusk faded fully into night. Yuna lingered near the 월드컵경기장 subway entrance, fingers pressed tightly around a folded note—Jihoon’s handwriting on fragile paper. Her thoughts drifted to the conversation that morning, the hesitation lingering between them like the last light of day.
Quiet Revelations The first snow of the season fell lightly over Seoul, blanketing the city in whispered white. Yuna stood at her window, watching as the flakes danced down like fragile promises, touching rooftops and riverbanks alike. The air was sharp but still, holding its breath as if the city itself waited for something. Her