❝To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind.❞

ACT I—THREE

THE WORLD is a mysterious place with unsolved riddles, twists and turns. The when, why and how's of this world are not our cup of tea. We, the mere humans are useless puppets and the enigmatic world is our puppeteer.  Right now, this mysterious world decided to land him in a situation that he had no time to comprehend.

"Where did you go tough girl!?"

The loud music of the bar aligned with his loud heartbeat. He was scared, very scared. He knew it wasn't his place to be scared, he didn't even know who she was. Still, he wouldn't be able to  sleep at night if he let go of a woman knowing she was in danger. He had to find her for his own peace of mind. 

"How could she just disappear—"

His frantic eyes landed on a figure, freezing him mid-speech. Like a poet's ink and quill, her deep black hair flowed down her back, contrasting her red attire. He knew he had been staring longer than it needed. Yet strangely enough, he who despised the color black, felt drawn to an unknown woman's hair.

Blinking once, twice, he breathed out in relief and approached her scrunched back at the isle.

"There you are missy. You plan on dying by drinking?" Pointing at the bottle of wine in her hand, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

"Dying? Who's dying? This isn't a bottle of wine. It's a bottle full of my sorrows and I'm drinking it all up tonight," she gulped down the wine, not bothering to look back to see who she was talking with. Her mind was too far gone to comprehend what she was doing at this point. Confused with her drunk act, he quirked one of his brows.

"But you a while ago—"

A finger flew out of nowhere and directly landed on his lips. The woman-as Aya whipped around to fully face him, "Sshh, let bygones be bygones."

But that wasn't the issue. The issue was that he finally saw her face and that oddly looked like someone whom he could never imagine to find in such a ridiculous situation. So he shrugged that thought, thinking the little alcohol in his system was playing a trick on him.

Aya removed her finger from his lips. Her droopy eyes staring at the man. "I wish I could end this life so easily," her eyes trapping sorrow, her lips in a bitter smile. "But I can't. I can't. I endured so much for this life. Can't afford to lose it in a snap," she said while snapping her fingers. Weary eyes stared at her. He sighed with a shake of his head.

Alcohol can surely make one crazy. Point proven.

Aya tried to get up from the tool but her eyes were too fuzzy and legs too wobbly to even stand. She eyed him. He narrowed his eyes.

"Can you help me?" She asked with a serious look, even though her words came out slightly slurred.

"Uh wait, what help?"

As soon as he asked that, her serious look changed into a puppy one. She pouted and the guy couldn't get more weirded out. "I can't get up. Maybe this chair is in looooveee with my butt." She said and held her arms up for him to help her.

"Or maybe—" He held her one arm and helped her to stand, "You're just drunk." He deadpanned.

"Heck no, I'm fine. Totally fine but w-why are you spinning like that?" She unconsciously leaned down on his shoulder for support.

"Totally wasted," He muttered, sighing.

"Hey Mochi face, listen up."

"Wha—what did you just call me?"

"What? You are a Mochi face. Just look at you."

The boy opened his mouth, to fire up an argument but Aya was quick to shut him up.

"Can you see the curtains?" She pointed at her eyes.

"Uh, what curtains?" He cocked one of his eyebrows up.

"Oh dummy, My eyes! Look at them. See, the curtains!" She exclaimed and kept poking at her eyes. It didn't take a genius to realize that she was referring to her eye lids.

"Are they supposed to be called curtains?" He was amused by her weird behavior.

"Mhm. Oh look, the curtains are closing..." After that whatever she said came out as mumbles which weren't audible and logical enough for him to understand.

His breath hitched when suddenly she captured his neck in the noose of her arms and snuggled against his chest, feeling the warm goodness of him.

"Mhm you smell like vanilla."

He froze right there and then. It took him some seconds to realize what was happening.

"Did she really sleep on me? Hey, can you please—"

Little snores filled his ears and that only gave validity of the answer to his question. He tried to wake her up but that only resulted into her nuzzling more into his chest. He found it amusing how she could sleep so peacefully when the bar was blasting with loud and ear deafening music. He was clueless about what he should do with her. A drunk girl and that too latched to him—was not a situation he was ever blessed to handle. After pondering awhile, he could come up with only one solution.

Putting one of her arms around his shoulder, he held her waist tightly and stumbled their way out to a more secluded place. He settled her down on a couch and started rummaging through her purse. He found a driving license.

"Min Aya," her name rolled out of his tongue as a whisper.

"You're the Aya," He couldn't believe his own eyes. The small petite girl in front of him was the girl everyone desired to be with. No wonder she looked so oddly familiar to him. She was a beauty, there's no doubt to it. But to him, the innocence of her radiated more, far more than her ever glowing face. He tried to wake her up again by poking her cheeks softly. She didn't move an inch. She's totally passed out.

"I guess, I don't have a choice then."

He carried her in his arms to his car. He settled her down on the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. He was about to close the door when suddenly she caught him by his collar and pulled him close to her.

"What—" He was beyond surprised.

"Are you kidnapping me?" She asked with squinted eyes.

"Huh? What the hell! No!"

"Even if you try, remember that Jeon will find you and cut you into uncountable pieces mercilessly," she said with a smug face while her grip on his collar loosened.

"But you know what, Mochi face...that man is an asshole." She whined, relaxing on the leather seat. "Ugh I hate him but I know he cares for me. The only one who truly does," mumbling her words, she dozed off again.

Hearing that, his expression softened. He looked at her with a soft gaze. "The only one, huh? Every member in Clover has a story to tell. I hope yours is better than mine."

He smiled before closing the door of her side and making his way to the driving seat. The whole time he was driving, he kept glancing at her unconsciously.  

"I never thought I'll meet my muse like this." 

AFTER ARRIVING at his place he carried her inside of his apartment and put her in the bed cautiously not wanting to wake her up and create a ruckus at mid night. He noticed that her dress was too short. He took out one of his sweat shirt from cupboard and made her wear it over her dress. He put the blanket over her small frame and crouched down beside the bed.

He stared at her. His lips holding a smile.

"What an angelic face but has the tongue that no man can tame," he chuckled and removed strands of hair that were covering her face. He stood up and was about to exit the room before he stopped and looked back.

"And by the way, this Mochi face has a sexy name. It's Park Jimin."

He chuckled and shook his head as he realized he was talking to a sleeping person.

"Good night, tough girl."

Note: 

This chapter isn't salvageable. Not my favorite at all :(