zero . . . he was a stranger, nevertheless

It was mid-winter when Kang Eun-Bi found herself immersed in the pitfalls of a black depression ── so crippling, its darkness so blindingly severe, she couldn't see a way out of it. There was no trace of light penetrating the steel walls of the cold, black tunnel that became her home.

To the outer world, she was the girl who had it all: rich parents, a successful brother, and a promising future. She was thriving in her academics, ready to walk in her parent's footsteps one day.

She was only seventeen years old and was living a fiercely independent life in one of the most sought-after cities in South Korea.

The world was her fucking oyster, right?

She had an endless supply of stunning and successful girlfriends. The girls who can silence a riotous and noisy room with just their magnetic, effervescent presence. Eun-Bi appeared to teem with boundless potential. An enviable entity who radiated with the vigorous glow of high self-esteem.

She never left the house without makeup, and her nail polish never chipped.

"You're the kid I don't have to worry about," her father, whom she loved dearly, would tell him, his face beaming with pride.

If only they knew.

If only they knew.

If only they knew.

If only they knew she was swallowing a secret so razor-sharp, its pointed blade incessantly pierced the surface of her heart.

A secret she was attempting to bury deep within herself because she was terrified of what might happen if it were to come crashing to the surface.

She didn't want any of this.

In fact, she had no idea what she wanted. Talking to her parents was never an option. And if she did end up talking to them, it would either end with her parents lashing out at her or them arguing with each other.

So, she did what she could.

Kang Eun-Bi ran.

She packed enough clothes to survive and took whatever money she had left and ran away from her past.

Now fast-forward to Eun-Bi, an art student who is twenty-two years old and still has it all. It may not have been in her parents' or society's eyes, but she had it all: a promising student of the arts; a savior ── her friend, who she could call her only family.

Nevertheless, she wasn't sure whether she was heading in the right direction. When she fled her parents' home, was this what she had envisioned? She didn't know.

Eun-Bi felt frustrated and embarrassed to admit to being confused. Her friends had called her brave for standing up for herself and following her passion.

But did she really?

It's not something Eun-Bi will admit or tell anyone. Especially not to some stranger she'd meet in a bar as she half tried to catch her breath as she bawled her eyes out, and half tried to balance the drink in her hand.

Until now.

On her 'sorrow' visits to the bar- as she liked to call it when she had a bad day- she didn't intend to talk to anyone or to make an acquaintance, she just wanted to drown her sadness away and not have anyone interfere with her life.

Nevertheless, the guy in the blue denim jacket had different intentions than that, those included making a move on the obviously sad girl in the bar.

A series of events led to Eun-Bi retelling the story of her life to a stranger. Having the confidence to talk to someone without being judged or embarrassed made her feel safe.

But was it dangerous? Probably so.

Yet, did Eun-Bi care at the time? Absolutely not.

The bar was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and the murmur of conversations. Kang Eun-Bi sat at the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in front of her. She was drunk, that was evident from the way she slurred her words and the faraway look in her eyes.

Beside her, Park Jae-Eon watched her with a mixture of fascination and concern. He had never met anyone quite like her before. She was beautiful, that much was obvious, but there was something else about her, something that drew him to her like a moth to a flame.

Eun-Bi finally broke the long silence after her long rant by saying, "You know, I've always hated butterflies."

Jae-Eon raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden declaration. "Why is that?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

Eun-Bi turned to him; her gaze intense despite the alcohol clouding her senses. "Because they're so fragile," she said, her words slurring slightly. "They're beautiful, sure, but they're also so . . . temporary. They live for such a short time, and then they're gone. It's like they're . . . mocking us, you know?"

Jae-Eon listened, captivated by her words. He reached out to touch her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. "But isn't that what makes them beautiful?" he asked softly. "The fact that they're so delicate and yet so resilient?"

Eun-Bi shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Maybe," she conceded. "But I prefer things that last, things that don't disappear as soon as you touch them."

As she spoke, Eun-Bi felt a wave of confusion wash over her. Why had she thought of butterflies all of a sudden? The question nagged at her, persistent and insistent, like a puzzle she couldn't solve.

A soft frown took place between her brows, trying to focus, trying to remember. And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her. The stranger sitting beside her, the one with the warm smile and the gentle eyes. She remembered now, she had noticed a butterfly tattoo behind his neck.

The memory came flooding back, hazy yet vivid. She remembered the delicate lines of the tattoo, the way it seemed to dance on his skin, the way it seemed to flutter against the stranger's skin like a living thing. She remembered wondering why someone would choose such a fragile creature as a permanent mark on their body.

Her thoughts moved slower than her hands as she grazed her fingers to the back of Jae-Eon's neck, where she had noticed a tattoo of a butterfly earlier in the evening. Her fingers traced the outline of the tattoo, and Jae-Eon felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Is that a tattoo?" she asked, pointing to the back of Jae-Eon's neck.

As Eun-Bi's fingers lingered on his skin, Jae-Eon felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. He couldn't explain it, but her touch sent a shiver down his spine, awakening something inside him that had long been dormant.

He turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers. "Yes, it is," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Their faces were inches apart now, the tension between them palpable. Eun-Bi could feel the heat radiating off Jae-Eon's body, and she was acutely aware of how close they were. She could feel his breath on her skin, warm and inviting.

The air between them charged with an unspoken tension. Eun-Bi's heart pounded in her chest; her mind foggy from the alcohol but her senses heightened by the proximity of this stranger.

Jae-Eon leaned in closer, his lips almost touching hers. Eun-Bi's eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath on her skin.

She was acutely aware of how close they were. She could feel his breath on her skin, warm and inviting.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, lost in their own little world. And then, without thinking, Jae-Eon leaned in and kissed her, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It was electric, a spark igniting between them that neither could ignore. And as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Eun-Bi couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, butterflies weren't so bad after all.

"I think it's time for you to stop drinking," Jae-Eon said, his voice rough with emotion. He stood up, offering her a hand. "Let me take you home."

Eun-Bi hesitated for a moment, her mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events. But something in Jae-Eon's eyes made her trust him, made her feel safe.

She took his hand, allowing him to lead her out of the bar and into the cold winter night. And as they walked together, their hands intertwined, Eun-Bi couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was beauty in the fragile moments of life after all.

𓆸 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𝄢

i have re-vamped the story a little, the plot will still be same with some changes but i wasn't getting any inspiration with the old version of the story . . . so, here we are !