Comfortably they rested in the warm completed exhaustion of the quiet pressroom, like men relaxed after work. It was just the two of them.
'Why don't you even look at me now?' Nayeon started. 'We can at least be cordial.'
'What is there to look at?' he answered. 'We are done with. We're not getting back together-- what is the point, Nayeon?'
Strangely, in sharp broken fragments, as they sat there quietly, as the seconds wear on, they both remembered how they were bustling and hustling, and how they felt proud in catching each other's glances in the same vicinity just twelve months before. The light that filled their respective worlds now was soft and otherworldly like the light that fills the sea floors of the murky water of the Indian, where other great fish swam.
They were both waiting on their managers to give them the go-ahead to head on out. He, impatient and agitated, got up and walked to the entrance door of the press room. While walking he espied a camera bag that a photographer had forgotten. He thought that those captured living images of Nayeon and him together still in his head were there to pour balm upon the broken heart of Grief, to soothe the widow's ache-- so to speak-- to brush away the love orphan's tears. He left her there and went past the door without saying another word to her.
'Why don't you even look at me now?' Nayeon started. 'We can at least be cordial.'
'What is there to look at?' he answered. 'We are done with. We're not getting back together-- what is the point, Nayeon?'
Strangely, in sharp broken fragments, as they sat there quietly, as the seconds wear on, they both remembered how they were bustling and hustling, and how they felt proud in catching each other's glances in the same vicinity just twelve months before. The light that filled their respective worlds now was soft and otherworldly like the light that fills the sea floors of the murky water of the Indian, where other great fish swam.
They were both waiting on their managers to give them the go-ahead to head on out. He, impatient and agitated, got up and walked to the entrance door of the press room. While walking he espied a camera bag that a photographer had forgotten. He thought that those captured living images of Nayeon and him together still in his head were there to pour balm upon the broken heart of Grief, to soothe the widow's ache-- so to speak-- to brush away the love orphan's tears. He left her there and went past the door without saying another word to her.