I didn’t know the strength required to knock on a door.

I stood in the hallway, waiting for the consequence of my knocking to unfold. I could hear a rustling inside the apartment. The door swung open.

“You’re here?” Jaewon greeted, his hair still damp.

“Ah, yeah.”

“Come in.” He stepped back to reveal a peek at his studio apartment.

It reminded me of my old place. Not quite a mess, but not tidy either. The room looked smaller than it already was with high shelves propped against the walls filled to the top with books.

“Isn’t this a fire hazard?” I murmured, eyeing an ashtray on the shelf’s edge. I took off my jacket and draped it over the back of a chair I suspected he pulled out of nowhere just for my visit.

Jaewon laughed to the sound of the kettle. I began to peruse the shelf, filled with books he said he’d been slowly collecting since he’d moved into his new apartment. They were from used book shops and downsizing libraries, he told me. Some rarer volumes and collections he’d bought from sellers online.

(Jiwon collected shoes.)

He brought out two cups, setting them on the low table in the middle of the room.

“You can read whatever you want.” He said through sips of tea.

“This is so bohemian.” I sighed in contentment, carefully opening a book. My senses flooded with the aged perfume of its binding.

I half-expected jazz to play from a vinyl in the background. Instead, we sat in a peaceful, heavy silence, the only music coming from the fluttering of pages.

I paused in my reading to look over at Jaewon, who leaned against his own chair with his head bent as he read.

I found myself walking toward him. I took slow and small steps, but the apartment was so small that I faced him faster than I had realized. He did not look up, whether because he did not notice me or that he had the decision not to.

Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out to move a piece of his long hair from out of his face.

His chin tilted back upward and our eyes connected. He grabbed my wrist, his fingers slim and ink stained.

It felt like a dam had been broken, allowing everything we’d so consciously locked away to swell and flood.

The book fell from his hands but I did not hear the sound it made as it hit the floor. He kissed me urgently, holding onto my other wrist. He stalked me backward onto the bookshelf, my legs moving to his accord like a marionette.

My back hit the hard, wooden shelving. He hungrily kissed away my pained cry as he yanked my wrists over my head.

The kiss was rough and punishing. His hips ground against mine, pushing me further into the shelf behind me.

“Stop.” I broke away from his lips, but he continued to leave open-mouthed kisses along my neck. “Jaewon, stop.”

He released me, and the spell was broken. I fell limp to the ground.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it shakily, taking long drags as he looked down at me.

I kept my eyes to the ground until I had gathered enough strength to stand. I grabbed my jacket and left without looking back.<