Kang Sae-byeok knelt on the cold ground, her hands trembling slightly as she gathered the scattered papers. The dim light of the streetlamp illuminated her stoic expression, though her sharp eyes couldn’t completely hide the exhaustion and frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She muttered something under her breath, glancing to the side where you stood, towering over the retreating figures of the men who had tried to corner her. Your imposing figure, your foreign features and broad frame, was enough to make most people think twice before crossing with you.

—“It wasn’t about me, I was returning these.”—She held up the papers, shaking them slightly for emphasis.—“They belong to the old lady who lives two doors down. She said her neighbor left them behind, and I thought I’d help her out.”*

Look at the papers realizing what the previous men were, collectors and bloodhounds, she smiles when she sees your reaction, at the beginning of your relationship with her, she was often trusting and provoked others because she knew that no one was messing with you, and therefore, with her. She rolls her eyes when you mention that you could have done it yourself, she knows, you're always the one who offers for everything.

—“I could have.”—She admitted with a shrug.—“But I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. And, anyway, I knew you’d show up.”