Page 2 of When Worlds Collide
“I would have done it sooner.” His tone, as dark and smoky as a woodfire pulled at something inside me, a tug so physical I actually took a step forward.
I shook my head to clear it. “Oi, stop it,” I commanded.
“Stop what?” he said so innocently it might have been convincing.
“You know what. Stop doing your sexy magic. I have a ticket desk to find.”
Jihoon laughed, “I love it when you call it that.”
“Good, because I’ll only stop calling it that when you stop doing it.” I hefted my other rucksack onto my shoulder – until recently it had been my work rucksack. Can’t call it that anymore, since I got fired. I guess it’s just a rucksack, now.
“Then I’ll never stop doing it.” I could practically feel his smile through the phone.
“Promises, promises.” I muttered, clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I secured both rucksacks to my back. Awkward, pack-mule-esque, but doable.
“I need to go,” he sighed. “The plane will be taking off soon.”
“I understand. Try to get some sleep, but eat something first!” I fussed at him, already casting my eyes around the cavernous terminal, trying to spot where a ticket desk might be hiding.
“Ne,” he said, unintentionally slipping into Korean, before automatically correcting himself with a rushed, “yes.” I smiled to myself, not feeling the need yet to tell him I’d understood him just fine.
Although, on reflection, I wasn’t that far past ‘ne’. And I never did find out what that damn chicken’s message was. Maybe one day.
“Alright, you better go. I can tell that Youngsoo is giving you the side-eye.”
Jihoon laughed. “You know him so well. I’ll tell him you send your regards. Safe travels, jagiya.”
I softened at hearing him call me that. It loosely translated to something like ‘baby’, or ‘sweetheart’, so it’s not like it was anything groundbreaking. But the way he said it made me feel like the most cherished person alive.
“I love you,” I said in a tone that conveyed so much more than those three words ever could.
“I love you, too.”
It took some wandering around, but I eventually managed to locate a ticket desk for the airline Youngsoo had booked with. I approached the tired, but friendly-looking young man, dropping two of my bags to the floor in relief.
“May I help you?”
“Um, yeah, I hope so. A ticket was booked for me to fly to South Korea, but I don’t know what time, or…” I suddenly realised I was standing in the middle of an international airport, with all my worldly possessions stuffed into three bags, with no idea what I was doing.
The ticketing agent ratcheted up a tired, but well-practiced smile before asking, “Do you know which airport?”
“Incheon?” I mean, I assumed so…
The agent tapped away at a keyboard. “And your name?”
That one I had no trouble with. “Thompson, Kaiya.”
“Can I see your passport please, Ms Thompson?”
I fished it out of my pocket and handed over the little, burgundy book. The agent gave it a perfunctory glance before handing it back to me.
“Thank you. You’ve been booked onto the next flight –” I sighed in relief – “it departs at 22:40, so you have plenty of time to check any luggage you may have.” His eyes drifted down to my patchy, bulging bags before meeting my eyes again, his smile taking on a slightly softer, more sympathetic curve.
“This is your ticket, and your boarding pass. The check in desks are right over there.” He handed me the slips of paper and leaned over the desk to point in the direction of a line of people.
I stifled a sigh. I’d waited in airports for longer before; a couple hours was a small price to pay.
“Thank you,” I said to the agent as I leaned down to reclaim my bags before making my way over to the queue for yet another desk.
