Work Text:
falling is not something foreign to bokhee. having lived for 30 years or more, she accepts that sometimes life needs you to fall first before taking a leap. that is exactly why she deems a career in professional burglary suits her—she would take high risks for high returns, and sometimes the risks include literally free-falling from a skyscraper on a wire.
she does not miss the days where she had to fall and jump and break into places she wouldn’t go with a gun to make ways for popie to steal a safe or whatever that jackass of a leader thought was valuable enough to take. the jump sometimes hurt her back, the landing rough, and it became a pain in the ass when the rich losers she seduced asked ‘how she got the bruise’. luckily, she is not afraid of height, or rather, she is not afraid of the falling because she knows someone would definitely catch her.
“yenicall, are you okay? ” was what she’d hear zampano say through her ear piece. the kid was annoyingly noisy as she recalls.
“yenicall, is the wire too loose?” which she’d reply with a disgruntled “no, i’m alright, kid.”
“buy me dinner after we finish this job,” and the chuckle she’d let out would travel the air in radio waves into zampano’s ears as a sassy “keep dreaming!”
now, years later from her suite room in a 5-star hotel bokhee gazes at the cityscape wondering what zampano— nam jaeho, a name she never actually uttered in real life—would do to give her a smooth fall from this 63-stories building. wonders if he’d be ecstatic to witness that happy ending is hers, afterall. wonders if he’s lurking around somewhere in this country, blending with the locals thanks to his proficient mandarin.
the champagne tastes sickeningly sweet on her tongue. it’s been a while since she’d been to macau, she’s bound to feel a little nostalgic.
(she tries not to think about how bokhee, i love you, was the last thing she remembers from the kid before the macau police took him away).
(she fails).