Chapter 5:

Scarlet stood in front of her mirror, tying the last knot on the ribbon of her simple white sundress. The fabric swayed gently as she moved, and the sunlight streaming through the window of her Venetian hotel room kissed her bare shoulders.

She slipped on a pair of comfortable sandals and grabbed a woven bag, making sure to tuck her wallet and camera inside. Today, she was determined to explore Venice, lose herself in its labyrinth of canals, and perhaps, find herself again.

As she walked out into the cobblestone streets, the city greeted her with the melodic calls of gondoliers and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby bakeries. Scarlet felt a surge of excitement as she boarded a vaporetto, a water tram that glided smoothly across the Grand Canal.

The ride was calming, yet her heart ached faintly as she saw couples holding hands and leaning into each other, whispering sweet nothings. She couldn't help but think of Haj-oon. He'd never been one for spontaneous outings like this, always buried in work or too exhausted to enjoy life's small pleasures.

Still, the thought of him brought a smile to her lips. She imagined how he would have sighed dramatically at the idea of wandering through the narrow streets and browsing local markets. Yet, deep down, she knew he would have come along, if only to make her happy.

Scarlet's first stop was a small trattoria tucked into a corner of Campo Santa Margherita. The scent of fresh vegetables and spices drew her in, and she ordered a plate of castraure, a Venetian specialty made from tender baby artichokes, drizzled with olive oil and lemon. The shopkeeper, an elderly woman with a warm smile, handed her the plate, and Scarlet thanked her in halting Italian.

"Grazie mille," Scarlet said, her pronunciation making the woman chuckle.

"Prego, bella. Buon appetito!" (You're welcome, beautiful. Enjoy your meal!)

She carried her plate to the edge of the canal, where she found a quiet spot to sit. As she savored the tangy, earthy flavors of the dish, Scarlet watched gondolas glide by. The lapping water mirrored the azure sky, and for a moment, she felt completely at peace.

Yet, as she gazed at the couples enjoying the view together, her chest tightened. Ha-joon would have hated sitting here for too long, she thought with a bittersweet chuckle, imagining him fidgeting impatiently while she soaked in the atmosphere.

After finishing her meal, Scarlet made her way to Venice's famous shopping district. She hopped on a tram to the bustling Mercerie, a vibrant street lined with boutiques and market stalls. The ride was packed with tourists and locals, but Scarlet didn't mind.

Her eyes danced across the scenery, canals shimmering in the sunlight, bridges arching gracefully over the water, and quaint buildings painted in warm pastels. When she reached the shopping street, Scarlet's eyes lit up.

Stalls overflowed with colorful scarves, handmade jewelry, and delicate Venetian glass trinkets. She eagerly dove into the crowd, her fingers brushing against fabrics and inspecting intricate patterns.

At one stall, she spotted a stunning cobalt-blue dress and decided to try it on. The vendor, a middle-aged man with a thick accent, gestured toward a small fitting area at the back of the stall. Scarlet slipped into the dress, its silky material hugging her figure perfectly.

"How much for this?" she asked, stepping out to show the vendor.

"Eighty euros," he replied with a smile.

Scarlet frowned playfully. "Eighty? That's too much. What about fifty?" she countered, trying her best to bargain.

The man laughed, shaking his head. "Seventy, bella, and that's my best price."

They went back and forth until they settled on sixty euros. Scarlet left the stall victorious, the dress neatly folded in a bag, and a triumphant smile on her face. She continued to browse, picking up a few more items, a handcrafted leather purse, a pair of earrings shaped like tiny gondolas, and a lace scarf.

Every now and then, Scarlet's eyes would land on something meant for men, a tailored blazer, a sleek pair of leather shoes, or a silver cufflink set. Each time, Ha-joon would come to mind. She pictured him standing stiffly in the middle of the crowded market, looking at his watch and asking, "Are you done yet?" The thought made her laugh softly.

Yet, even in his reluctance, Hajoon had always indulged her love for fashion. Scarlet's heart ached as she remembered how distant he had been in recent years, too absorbed in his work to join her on trips like this. She sighed, brushing the thought away. "This trip is for me," she reminded herself. "I deserve this."

Scarlet's exploration continued late into the afternoon. She ventured into a small boutique filled with handmade Venetian masks, each one more elaborate than the last. She tried on a few, admiring the delicate craftsmanship and snapping pictures for memories.

She thought of Ha-joon again, imagining him rolling his eyes at her excitement but secretly taking photos of her in the masks. By the time Scarlet finished shopping, her bag was brimming with treasures, dresses, trinkets, and gifts she couldn't resist. As she walked back toward the tram station, the setting sun bathed Venice in a golden glow.

She stopped to watch the gondolas one last time, leaning against the railing of a bridge. Her thoughts drifted to Ha-joon once more, and this time, she let herself linger on the memories, the way he'd scrunch his nose when she dragged him to small markets, his soft laugh when she modeled outfits for him, and the way he'd eventually give in and buy something just to make her happy.

Scarlet's heart felt heavy, but also full. She missed him deeply, but she knew she was creating memories for herself on this trip, something she had neglected to do for years. Smiling softly, she whispered to herself, "Maybe next time, Hajoon, you'll come with me."

With that, she boarded the tram, her bag of treasures resting on her lap, ready for the next adventure Venice had to offer.

***

Scarlet placed her bags neatly in the corner of her hotel room, letting out a content sign. The day had been long but fulfilling. She admired her collection of trinkets, dresses, and souvenirs for a moment before deciding to head downstairs. Her feet carried her to the reception desk, where the kind receptionist greeted her with a warm smile.

"Signora, have you planned your evening yet?" the receptionist asked.

Scarlet shook her head. "Not yet. I was thinking of just resting."

"Well, tonight there will be beautiful fireworks display by the lake. It's something you shouldn't miss. The view is spectacular," the receptionist suggested enthusiastically.

Scarlet's eyes lit up. "That sounds perfect. Thank you for letting me know!"

***

The sun had already dipped below the horizon when Scarlet arrived at the lake. The air was cool and carried the soft scent of water and distant flowers. People were starting to gather, chatting animatedly as they waited for the fireworks to begin. Scarlet found a spot near the edge of the lake, the gentle ripples of water reflecting the streetlights and lanterns strung around.

As the crowd thickened, she decided to step back a little. She wasn't a fan of being too close to the edge, falling into the water wasn't exactly her idea of a perfect evening. She found a quieter spot a little farther from the lake and stood there, camera in hand. When the first firework burst into the sky, painting it in shades of gold and crimson, Scarlet gasped softly, raising her camera to capture the moment.

On the other side of the lake, Ha-neul was experiencing a different kind of frustration. His phone, which he had been using to take photos of the fireworks, had suddenly died. He stared at the black screen, his expression falling into a pout.

"Aish! Really? Right now?" he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically.

The sight of the dazzling fireworks and the excited crowd made him sigh again. He wanted to capture this moment, but without his phone, he had no choice but to rely on someone else. Scanning the area, he spotted a young woman standing not too far from him, her camera poised and ready. Deciding to take a chance, he walked over to her and tapped gently on her shoulder.

"Excuse me," he began, bowing slightly as she turned around. His eyes widened in recognition. It was the same girl from the airport, the one who had glared at him after being disturbed by his call with his mother.

Scarlet's brow furrowed slightly as she recognized him too. What were the chances of running into the same stranger again, especially here in Venice?

"Um... do you speak English?" Ha-neul asked hesitantly, his polite tone contrasting with his awkwardness.

Scarlet gave a small nod, her expression neutral.

"Can you please take a picture of me? My phone died," he explained, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Scarlet hesitated for a moment before nodding silently. She took the camera he handed her and gestured for him to stand where he wanted. Ha-neul smiled gratefully and moved into position, standing in front of the lake as the fireworks illuminated the sky behind him.

"Ready?" Scarlet asked, raising the camera.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

She snapped a few pictures as he posed, shifting slightly for different angles. After taking five or six shots, Scarlet handed the camera back to him. Before he could check the pictures, a cheerful Venetian man approached them.

"Scusate!" the man called out. "Do you two want a picture together?"

Scarlet blinked in surprise, glancing at Ha-neul, whose cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, no, we're not..." she started, but the man was already waving them toward the viewpoint.

"It's a beautiful night, and the view is even better with two people in it!" he said with a warm smile. "Come, come. Just one picture."

Scarlet hesitated, and so did Ha-neul, but neither of them wanted to seem rude. Reluctantly, they moved to the viewpoint, standing side by side as the man adjusted Scarlet's camera.

"Okay, smile!" the man said, positioning them perfectly in front of the glowing lake and vibrant fireworks.

Scarlet stood stiffly, offering a polite smile, while Ha-neul's blush deepened. The man snapped one picture, then two, and finally a third. He handed the camera back to Scarlet with a satisfied grin.

"You both look beautiful together," he said sincerely.

Scarlet's eyes widened slightly, and she let out a small scoff. Ha-neul, on the other hand, felt his face grow impossibly warm. He bowed quickly, avoiding Scarlet's gaze.

"Thank you," he mumbled to the man. Then, turning to Scarlet, he added, "I'm sorry. I should be getting going now."

Without another word, he spun on his heel and walked away, his pace quickening with every step. It wasn't until he was far from the lake that he realized he had forgotten to ask Scarlet for the photos she had taken of him.

"Ah, jinjja!" he muttered, smacking his forehead lightly. "How could I forget?"

Back at the lake, Scarlet stood watching him leave, her brow furrowed slightly. She glanced down at her camera, the images of him posing and their awkward group photo stored inside. Letting out a soft scoff, she shook her head and muttered, "What a strange guy."

Tucking her camera back into her bag, Scarlet turned her attention to the fireworks once more, letting the vibrant display distract her from the unusual encounter.

***

Late into the evening, Ha-joon was still in his office in Paris, engrossed in a mountain of paperwork. The only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of pages. He reached for his pen, jotting down notes, when his gaze wandered toward Scarlet's empty desk across the room. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head slightly.

"Red?" he called out instinctively.

There was no response. He blinked, momentarily confused, before realization dawned on him. She wasn't here, she was in Venice. Ha-joon leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering how she'd left a few days ago for her solo vacation.

His initial reluctance to let her go resurfaced briefly, but he quickly brushed it aside. She deserved the break, especially after the grueling few weeks they'd both endured.

Even so, the office felt emptier than usual. Pushing himself out of his chair, Ha-joon grabbed his car keys and decided to head home. The paperwork could wait until tomorrow.

***

The drive back to his grand mansion was quiet, the Parisian streets illuminated by warm, golden lights. Ha-joon stared out at the passing scenery, but his mind was elsewhere. By the time he pulled into the driveway, the solitude of the empty mansion greeted him like an old friend.

He stepped inside, flipping on the lights. The large, luxurious space felt hollow without Scarlet's presence. The absence of her laughter or the faint hum of her favorite playlists made the silence even louder.

Ha-joon loosened his tie as he made his way to the kitchen. Too tired to cook a proper meal, he grabbed a cup of instant noodles from the pantry, filled it with hot water, and waited for it to cook. The mundane task gave him a moment to reflect.

Last night had been the same, just him and his thoughts in this massive house. He had thought solitude wouldn't bother him, but now he wasn't so sure. Picking up the noodles, he settled at the counter and reached for his phone.

Without hesitation, he dialed Scarlet. It rang twice before she picked up, her familiar voice cutting through the quiet.

"Ha-joon?" she answered, her tone neutral.

He didn't notice the lack of warmth in her voice. "Hey, Red. What are you doing?"

Scarlet was sitting at a cozy table in the Venetian restaurant of her hotel, a plate of risotto al radicchio in front of her. She twirled her fork absentmindedly, looking out at the romantic setting that surrounded her.

The soft light of the restaurant reflected in the glassware, and couples shared intimate moments at neighboring tables. Hearing Ha-joon's voice was both comforting and frustrating.

"I'm having dinner," Scarlet replied, her tone polite but distant. She took a sip of her wine, her eyes narrowing slightly as she twirled the fork in her food again. "What about you?"

Ha-joon leaned against the counter, holding his cup of noodles in one hand and the phone in the other. "Just got home. Eating dinner too."

"What's for dinner?" she asked, her voice laced with mild curiosity.

"Cup noodles," he replied casually, slurping the hot broth.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself. "Cup noodles? In that mansion of yours? Don't you have chefs to cook for you?"

Ha-joon shrugged, even though she couldn't see him. "They left for the night. Besides, it's not like I can cook anything fancy."

Scarlet scoffed softly, setting her fork down. "Figures. You could've just ordered something."

"I could have," he admitted, "but this was easier." He paused for a moment before asking, "How's Venice?"

Scarlet leaned back in her chair, looking out at the restaurant's view of the canals. "It's beautiful," she said honestly. "The food is amazing, the streets are charming, and the shopping is... well, let's just say I might need another suitcase."

Ha-joon chuckled softly. "Sounds like you're enjoying yourself."

"I am," she said, though her tone still carried a hint of something else.

Ha-joon picked up on it but decided not to press. Instead, he kept the conversation light. "So, what did you buy?"

Scarlet hesitated, thinking of all the things she'd purchased today. "Clothes, shoes, accessories... the usual. Oh, and a painting from a street artist. It reminded me of something you'd like."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? You thought of me?"

Scarlet's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well, don't let it go to your head," she muttered, a teasing edge to her voice. "It's not like I bought it for you."

Ha-joon smiled at her attempt to sound indifferent. "I see. And here I thought you missed me, Red."

Scarlet stiffened slightly, her expression faltering. She glanced at her untouched plate of risotto. "Don't flatter yourself, Ha-joon," she said, reverting to his full name instead of her usual nickname for him.

The change didn't go unnoticed by him, but he brushed it off with a chuckle. "Alright, alright. No need to get defensive."

They fell into a brief silence, the sounds of their respective settings filling the void. Scarlet could hear the faint hum of the mansion through the phone, and Ha-joon could hear the chatter of the restaurant in the background.

"Are you staying out late tonight?" he finally asked.

"I'm not sure," Scarlet replied, her gaze drifting to the glass of wine in front of her. "Maybe I'll just head back to my room after this."

"Don't stay out too late," Ha-joon said, his voice was softer now. "Venice is beautiful, but it's not always safe at night."

Scarlet's chest tightened at his concern, but she didn't let it show. "I'll be fine, Ha-joon. You don't have to worry about me."

"I always worry about you," he said without hesitation, and his sincerity caught her off guard.

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around her wineglass. "Well... you don't have to," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Ha-joon smiled faintly, sensing the unspoken emotions between them but choosing not to push further. "Alright, Red. I'll let you enjoy your dinner."

"Goodnight, Ha-joon," Scarlet said, her tone was softer now.

"Goodnight, Scarlet," he replied, lingering for a moment before ending the call.

As Scarlet set her phone down, she felt a strange mixture of emotions, missing him, frustration, and something she couldn't quite name. Across at paris, Ha-joon finished his noodles in the silence of the mansion, wondering why the emptiness felt heavier tonight.

Ha-joon placed the empty cup of noodles in the sink and wiped his hands absentmindedly. The mansion felt eerily quiet, its grand halls echoing with the absence of Scarlet's presence. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way to the bedroom.

The familiar scent of her perfume still lingered faintly in the air, a bittersweet reminder of her. He pulled back the covers of his bed, hesitating for a moment. Shaking his head, he slid into bed, adjusting the pillows as he stared at the ceiling.

"She's fine," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the restless thoughts swirling in his mind. "She's just enjoying her trip."

Still, sleep didn't come easily. He closed his eyes, but his mind kept wandering back to Scarlet. Even her light scolding earlier on the call replayed in his mind, bringing a faint smile to his lips. Eventually, his breathing slowed, and he drifted off, her name lingering at the edge of his dreams.

***

Scarlet set her phone down after the call and picked up her fork again. Her meal, though delicious, had taken a back seat to the thoughts racing through her mind. She replayed Ha-joon's words in her head, how he'd said he always worried about her.

A small smile crossed her lips as she speared a piece of risotto. "He's always like that," she thought, her heart warming at the memory of his concern. She finished her meal, gazing out at the Venetian night, feeling a soft tug of longing for the man who had, despite his flaws, always been her moon.