February 27^th 2015, Jeju Island

The first time we met, I already mentioned wanting to take her to Jeju Island.  Whenever I rode my bike along that ocean-view road, the harsh wind on my face, the feeling of freedom and invincibility was unlike no other.  It was how I relieved stress, a sure-fire way to let go of whatever was troubling me.  The wide, open space and the rustic landscape always seemed to dwarf my problems and I returned to the city refreshed and renewed.

I was elated at the change in my wife, Kim So-eun, within minutes after mounting the bike.  I told her I would install a tandem seat, if only she would ride with me.  I guess she didn’t think I was serious when we landed in Jeju and discovered that the bike was our only mode of transportation.  She had been visibly scared, and I tried my best to assure her that there was nothing to be afraid of as I let her listen to the engine starting.  I helped her up the bike and she grabbed my waist tight as the rubber burned on the pavement.

I had to chuckle when she asked me to go faster.

I remembered every single thing she said, and documented as much of our memories thus far in a diary that I kept—the first part of which I had already given her.  She had told me that she wanted to yell, in order to release her stress.  She could do it this way, without any restrictions or anyone telling her that she was being loud or obnoxious…

Then she yelled to her heart’s content, while I was driving, being in my element, her voice cracking and shrill  and lingering in my ear. 

I didn’t mind one bit.  In fact, I screamed with her.

In turn, I told her that it was my dream to go on a motorbike tour like this with my future children and my wife riding at the back.  I coyly reminded her that we promised to do “We Got Married” for 50 years, if they would allow us, and she happily agreed.

I knew the future was uncertain, but I had come to realize that every moment should be treasured and made into the best memory possible.  So-eun holding on to me and trusting me that I wouldn’t let her fall as I took her riding was going to count for one of the most perfect experiences of my sometimes mundane existence.

We stopped by a scenic cliff and took some pictures.  We both had modeled before but it never ceased to amaze me how effortlessly photogenic my wife always was.  She removed the helmet and her beautiful hair flowed with the wind like a goddess.  I made her do it again, just in case it was a fluke.  Embarrassed, she indulged me and she released her hair even more goddess-like than before.

The images we had taken with our phone reflected our feelings, edgy and chic, just like my motorbike that was on our backdrop.  More importantly, I relished that us spending these two days together would create more memories.

We proceeded to getting something to eat, warm broth to thaw ourselves out.  We chose an eatery by the beach, where the seafood was fresh.  While waiting, I quizzed her on the Jeju dialect.  My ever feisty wife asked if she got at least one phrase correct, I would have to use one more coupon she had gifted me with.  So I chose the amusement park ride, thinking there was absolutely no freaking way she would win this time. 

When would I ever learn?

I knew I was done for when I gave her that second phrase, and that triumphant grin unfolded. 

We were served generous amounts of stew, finally, and we gratefully wolfed down our food, couldn’t believe how famished we both were.  Though there was crab and octopus and plenty of ramen, there was no abalone.  She requested if I would catch some for her.  Since I wanted to go swimming—and I did plan the activity to make her overcome her fear of the water—I vowed that I would, so we could have them for dinner later.

The next thing we knew, we were in our wetsuits, following the fisherwomen we had asked to guide us.  I did pick up a little bit of the Jeju dialect but I thought one of the ahjummas asked me to come diving alone.  So-eun giggled and told the fisherwoman of my promise to get her abalones.  However, the fisherwomen answered that it was not in season and that the water was awfully cold. 

Well, we were already here.  We might as well plunge in. 

My wife would try anything, though.  I honestly admired this dauntless quality about her.  We faced each other as we did some preparation exercises and I lightened the mood but likening it to warming up like national athletes.  We put our flippers on and agreed to race against each other. 

She was shrieking with glee as I let her think she was winning, but I picked up the pace and caught up with her in big sprints at the last few seconds, causing her to nearly topple over.  I steadied her, while she playfully accused me of stepping on her foot.  It didn’t really matter to me who won.  I wanted her to relax before we went in. 

I helped her with her hair as she put on the tight hood over her head.  She was worried that she would look funny.  I assured her that she had a pretty forehead, and that it was okay. 

Everything about So-eun was pretty. 

I wasn’t sure what came over me, though.  In one spark of mischievous inspiration, I pulled one side of the spandex from her cheek and let go.

She yelped, and looked at me incredulously. 

Call me crazy, but whenever that Flaxer glare of hers came on, I felt even more alive.  I lived to invoke Angry So-eun into the surface.  Calming her down and then wooing her thereafter had become my happy purpose.

She tried to retaliate by reaching up, inserting the hair on my forehead into my own hood while I controlled my laughter, explaining that I was checking the elasticity.

She protested that it hurt like hell, but she didn’t seem to have the heart to do the same childish prank to me.

I was instructed to hold on the pumpkin-like floatation device while I plunged in, feet first. 

The icy temperature stung me like venom as I helplessly drifted, catching my breath.  I turned to her, looking at me worriedly from the cemented bank.

“Jagiya!” I warned loudly, shivering.  “Run away!”

She and the ahjummas laughed, thinking maybe I was joking.   I looked on in concern as my wife’s lower body submerged. 

Her terrified cries pierced through my soul as she kept screaming, “It’s so scary!  It’s so scary!  I can’t let go!”

I wanted to swim back and hoist her up to the safety of the bank, but I couldn’t come any closer, even though I was only a few feet away.  To my relief, the ahjummas expertly surrounded her, giving her words of encouragement.   

My heart warmed, as my body adjusted to the coldness of the ocean, when I saw So-eun swimming in her own volition, albeit still very nervous, only dipping her head to look under the water and then coming back up immediately for air. 

“Nampyeon, I see something down there!” She called out to me, her eyes and nose covered by her pink goggles.  “I don’t know what it is but I can see something.”

I immediately dove where she pointed but the water was extremely murky.  I didn’t see anything even remotely resembling an abalone.

While I was under, I had no idea she was asking the ahjummas about where to find seaweed.

I couldn’t find anything.  I failed her as a man, and as a husband.  We wouldn’t be able to take home any catch tonight.  The ahjummas were magicians, though.  One of them actually just grabbed a live octopus out of nowhere and showed it to So-eun.

My beautiful, child-like wife was so cute, gushing an adorable “Whoa…” as she momentarily forgot that she was in a jeopardous situation where she was in the deep ocean and she didn’t know how to swim properly.  The ahjumma placed the live octopus in So-eun’s gloved hand and she studied it closely.  She showed it to me when I swam next to her.  The moment she handed me the fresh catch, a wave unexpectedly moved towards us, and…

I lost the octopus.

The ahjummas were generous, though.  They gave us another octopus and a couple of sea cucumbers to take home to cook for dinner. 

I didn’t want to wander far from So-eun.   We enjoyed the last few minutes with my wife swimming around comfortably, admitting that though she was not completely over her fear of the water, she was slowly overcoming it.

But for me, it was already a success.

Once we showered and changed, it was time for her to claim her wish card.  We headed for the amusement park, where all the scary rides were, but I was determined to redeem myself as a man.

The coupon said to Ride the Viking, which was a gigantic ship that swung back and forth to give the sensation of nearly falling over.  I passed up on thrills like this all my life. 

How inopportune that I was paired up with a sassy yeoja who loved them.

We boarded the Viking, as my heart rate accelerated even more than usual.  I already knew there weren’t going to be seatbelts as she went up to the very last, topmost row, sitting us in the middle.  For some reason, I still asked the operator whether there was something to secure us other than the metal bar. 

My face blanched when she suggested for us to cheer with our hands in the air everytime the Viking plummeted.

She looked at me in worry.  “Or is that too scary?”

I only shook my head, swallowing. 

Then the Viking moved. 

No… I didn’t like the feeling of my stomach dropping.  Suddenly, I clutched my belly and laughed.

“It’s tickling me!”  I gasped as So-eun animatedly raved, taking both my hands up while I resolutely resisted.  She kept asking me if it was fun and I had to give in.  Seeing that big smile on her face, as I had made this day all about her, was all worth it.

The operator seemed to be messing with us, however.  Just as we thought the ride was slowing down, it was still going. 

“Brakes, please!” I called out.

Even So-eun was wondering why they weren’t letting us off.  “Seriously, I’m about to get mad!”

“Please stop it,” I whimpered, clearing my throat.  “I beg you!”

They took mercy on us about a minute later.

With shaky legs, we moved on to the bump cars, which were likely more our mutual speed.  We kept deliberately colliding with each other, just as fate would first have the two of us that sunny day in September. 

Afterwards, we opted for something a little low-key.  We got on the carousel with twinkly lights and chose to ride next to each other on the smallest, tiniest horses in the entire ride.  My knees stuck out on both sides as I made her laugh by showing her how I used to ride the carousel when I was a kid, gliding from side to side.

Then we proceeded to the colorful jets that we were the only people who went aboard on.  I was surprised that she wanted to get on the same plane as me, so I helped her up first and then I sat in front of her.

I thought, “Oh, just like on the bike.”

Only she secured the seatbelt on my front, and reinforced it by wrapping her arms around me.  “I’ll protect you.”

Warmth came over me as I leaned my head on her shoulder.  She the white fur on the neck of my jacket and said it reminded her of her cat, Khun.   I let her call me Khun-ah during that ride. 

However, it began to feel like she was treating me like a baby, which was hurting the manly image I had fostered all my career.

I decided to change it by handling the controls of the ride, as it swooped up and down and caused her to hold on to me for protection.

That was more like it.

We were about to leave when we noticed another ride we hadn’t tried.  It was called Disco, Disco, Bang, Bang, where this round monstrosity was throwing people around with such ruthlessness, no matter how much they held on to the bars.

Even my daring wife looked a little startled when I suggested we got on it.

At the entrance, we were required to take off important items from our bodies and leave them in the designated area.  We placed our phones and wallets and then I told her to sit there, as she was among my treasured possessions.  She laughed, as if considering for a moment, and then went on with me to the ride.

I could feel her anxiety as she asked me to protect her.  I stood before her, holding her hand, but she was worried that I would fall off.  I comforted her that I wouldn’t and then…

Chaos ensued.

We endured the dizzying, excruciating tumble of a ride, where our butts involuntary lifted in the air and then landing painfully back on the hard, yellow seats in vigorous, unstable repetitions. 

At one point, I tried to protect So-eun by swinging my legs over hers and yet to no avail as she kept screaming for someone to save her.  So I stood up as her cover, amidst the crazy rocking, my head pounding at the fact that the contraption was holding us up in a rather precarious angle and the rubbery flooring had become slippery. 

The ride continued to bounce us around and So-eun’s knees kept hitting me there.

But the foremost thing for me was to keep her safe.

So I hovered over her, as close as possible, to make her feel my presence in the hope that it would alleviate her fears. 

My hands threatened to slip from the bars but I gripped them even tighter on either side of my wife as we rode out the last tremors of the ride until it came to a merciful, painstaking stop.

I stared at her, as she looked blankly into space, wondering what the hell just happened.  She commended me for a good job of protecting her, as I plopped my face down her hair, catching my breath. 

Bruised and worn ragged, we passed by a grocery store after the amusement park and thought to buy some more food.  Little did I know that she was sneaking in some ingredients into our cart while I was mulling over what kind of onions we should get for the seafood stew.

We resolved to prepare dinner together once we returned to the vacation house we were staying in for the night.  She kidded that her biceps had gotten bigger from Disco, Disco, Bang, Bang.  I pinched it to check and said that they were mere quail eggs.  I presented mine for her to feel.  “These are chicken eggs.”

She jokingly made a move to bite my arm, which made me think she was hungry.

While she was researching how to prepare the other fresh catch from the ahjummas, I was flouring the good octopus and apologizing to it.  When I went over to the live sea cucumber, after hearing from the wife that I needed to cut off its , the poor creature gave indication which end it was by releasing some dark, suspicious excrement.

Again, I apologized to it, wondering if it had done the nation a great travesty in a previous life, and readied it for my stew.

So-eun was preoccupied with something behind my back, for some reason.  I noticed that she had unpacked some seaweed.  “Jagi, why are you making seaweed soup?” I asked, naturally confused.

She hesitated at first, blinking innocently, and then: “It’s custom to have seaweed soup since it’s your birthday.”

I suppressed a smile.  I indeed had a birthday nine days ago.  We hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks, as I had been busy with the drama and other commitments while she had her own hectic schedule as well. 

She whipped up the soup while I worked hard on my seafood stew.  It was pleasant to be cooking side by side, since this kitchen was much more spacious than the one in our small, cozy home.  When the soup was ready, she asked me to taste it.

Considering it was her first time making it, it was actually very good and I told her so.

That cute baby smile widened.

It made me even more determined to dazzle her with my culinary skills.  I, too, was going to experiment with a fresh seafood stew.  Since she prepared soup for my birthday, I wanted to cook something for her too.

I looked up the recipe online and it said I needed onion juice to dissipate the pungent smell of the seafood.  It didn’t tell me, however, the way to extract it.  I didn’t think the house we rented had a juicer.  I should most likely do it the traditional way—squeeze it mercilessly in my hands.

I trembled at the exertion I had geared towards it.  So-eun stared at me ridiculously, probably thinking how pabo I was. 

Alas, some liquid came trickling down from my hands.  Not a lot… but I managed to juice the large white onion as much as I could.

I wondered if my wife was impressed by my display of physical strength so far.

I washed the vegetables on the sink next.  She was scuffling around behind me, busy with her own thing.

I turned to look at her, but she was gone.

“Nampyeon, when did you last celebrate your birthday?” I heard her ask.

She had to be somewhere nearby. 

I leaned over to the counter and found her sitting on the floor, preparing a pretty confectionary made of chocolate pies, cream and strawberries.  “What are you doing?”

She glanced up to me with a guilty smile on her face.  “I didn’t have time to buy a cake, so I was making one.” 

“Should I pretend I didn’t see?” I teased, grinning.

“Aniya.”  She went back to delicately garnishing the strawberries on it.  “You already saw it.”  Then she told me to hurry up so we can start dinner already.

With the seafood stew, seaweed soup and that gorgeous cake on the table, we clapped our hands and sang happy birthday to me.  My smile reached from ear to ear as she regarded me as her “lovely husband.”

I blew all three candles and we cheered some more.  I didn’t even close my eyes for a wish.

Everything I want was right in front of me.

“Gomawo,” I thanked her sincerely, couldn’t think of a better person to celebrate my birthday with.

“No, I’m sorry for being late,” she murmured softly, looking away.

I consoled her that it was fine and that I prepared a special sauce for this occasion.

So-eun was getting the cutlery when I rushed upstairs to get just that.  When I came back, she was cutting up the seafood into bite sizes when I presented her a bottle of soju.

She initially thought it was strange combining soju with what we were about to eat.  I grabbed two wineglasses from the counter and did a silly salsa dance to make her laugh.  I sat down and poured the drink for both of us.  “Don’t smell it!”

Only it smelled so strong, I had to blow off the alcoholic vapor wafting in the air in vain. 

Her forehead wrinkled in bafflement, and then she recognized it, gasping.  “How did you put it in?”

I managed to stop by our WGM house to bring a little of the bellflower liquor that we drank on special occasions.  Our first time in Jeju Island had to be one of them.  She also told me during that emergency MBC meeting that we should make time to drink all of it.

It was a tall, upstanding bottle.  We had 50 years of this, hopefully more, so I thought maybe save some for even better, subsequent milestones.

I knew she was pleased as we clinked our glasses together for a toast. 

All right, the moment of truth.  Time to taste the seafood stew.

We dipped our spoons in the casserole at the same time and sampled the broth.

What the…?

What was that taste?

It was fresh seafood, soy sauce, some vegetables and onion juice.

It was…

Okay.  Just okay.

My wife and I didn’t look at each other, though.  I waited for her to remark on how it didn’t meet her expectations…

But she never said a word.

My lovely wife—whom I had relentlessly teased about her failed kim-chi jjigae attempt and had victoriously cooked it for me again by bringing kim-chi from her own home—proved once more that I was married to one classy lady.

Thank God we still had her seaweed soup.

Some minutes later, she excused herself to go upstairs and spit what was in .

I followed her with my eyes in concern, thinking that maybe my seafood stew was really that bad.  “Spit it out on the sink.”

After a minute, she came down with a huge square box behind her back.

I had to chuckle as she comically sprinted sideways to return to the seat opposite me, knowing that I had already guessed what it was she was hiding.  She asked me to close my eyes, which I obediently did.

The last time I closed my eyes for her, she kissed the back of my head.

Well, I wasn’t going to put my head down this time.

“Open your eyes.”

Okay… no kiss.

Later?

My eyes grew wide when I saw the black package in front of me. 

Shoes!

I reached for the gift when she pulled it back. 

“Hold on, I have something to say before I give this to you.”

“Don’t run away?” I surmised, my hands already itching to open my present.

“No, just listen,” she insisted, keeping the package away in the mean time. 

I drew my hands back and stared at her, hearing her out.

“I wanted to buy you a bag first, but I looked into it and you already bought a new bike.”

I guffawed, covering my mouth with my hands before the food I was chewing splattered everywhere.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who listened to every word each of us said.

“So I thought, I’m going to buy a bag that goes with that motorcycle,” she went on, looking serious and cute simultaneously.  “But you already ordered a bag so I wondered what to buy.  I wanted to give you something you would like.  When you said you had bought a new motorcycle…” A sweet, satisfied smile spread across her pretty face.  “Here.”

And she finally handed me my gift.

“Gomawo,” I thanked her again, my voice cracking.  I hid my reddening face behind the package for a moment, but I was more excited to open it. 

“I hope you don’t have these,” she said, looking at me as I unwrapped it.

“I don’t,” I answered in gratitude, my eyes lighting up that she gave me these black leather ankle boots to go with my motorcycle and my personality.  I tried them on, and they fit me like a glove.  “I will wear them often.”

She had particularly chosen size 265, which she had blurted out at the rental shoe station when we went bowling a few weeks ago.  I guess she wasn’t bluffing when she said there was nothing she didn’t know about me. 

“I have to be the first woman to ride behind you on your new bike,” she requested. 

I held both her hands, after carefully putting my gift back in the box.  She threatened that she would burn my bike if I ran away, and I actually believed her for a moment there, until she laughed and affirmed that she was joking.

It was the perfect gift, something I hadn’t expected.

I would wear those boots, everytime I rode my new bike… hopefully with her behind me.

Suddenly, the seafood stew tasted almost edible.  We had one last toast together and changed into our pajamas.

So-eun must have wondered where I was as she wandered over to the living room where she saw me pushing the coffee table over to the corner.  “What is this?”

I turned off the florescent and disco lights danced about her face.  “A karaoke machine!”

She laughed heartily as I began to sing.  She wanted to relieve stress, right?  I wanted to keep making her laugh and smile.  It made me feel like I had a purpose in the world.  She took hold of the tambourine from the sofa and started tapping it with her hands. 

“You had a hard time, didn’t you?” I asked casually, and she giggled in mortification, knowing exactly what I was talking about.  “You might have wanted to give up.”

But that was all in the past, that misconstrued rumor that had no grain of truth in it, and I was here to help her move on.

I started rapping and dancing with abandon, as if a wild spirit had possessed me.  She crouched down and hid her face.  “I’m so embarrassed.”

Around half an hour later, she was dancing and singing happily as well.  I danced with her, pretending we were idols performing a routine.  We screamed uninhibitedly in unison when we reached the high notes.  She even hit me on the back of my knees when I sang lyrics about comparing a short person to a candle’s flame while I was looking at her.

I helplessly fell on the floor, still singing. 

My body’s reaction didn’t surprise me in the least bit.  I was always weak-kneed whenever around So-eun.

She made me stay down like that when I noticed her changing the song.

I sat back in dread as I discovered what came next.  She was going to sing “24 Hours” by Song-mi, the song I danced to in our wedding ceremony last November.

As that was a few months ago, I had forgotten most of the choreography.  However, some of the moves must have ingrained in my body as my hips moved in their own accord and I automatically executed that move So-eun loved so much.

Midway through the song, I thought that we should play fair.  She tried to evade it by inviting me to get ready for bed but I was not having it.  I detained her by the hand as I changed the song to AOA’s “Like A Cat.”  Though reluctant, my wife stayed by my side as I enthusiastically belted out the lyrics, even improvising.  When I got to the refrain, I gently pushed her in front of the TV.

Without missing a beat, my cute wife busted into the cheer dancing moves she had performed in a live basketball game as a pre-Valentine event for me and I joyfully joined her.  We were in our matching polka-dotted pajamas, she in pink and I was in blue, perfectly content in our slumber party for two.

It was getting late, though, and we had been up since the wee hours of the morning.  Maybe we really were getting comfortable with each other, as we didn’t mind going into the bathroom at the same time.  I remembered how she catered to my every need, even shampooing my hair, when I appointed her as my manager for the day using the Kim Sunjong coupon.  I wanted to return the favor.

She removed her socks and I took them from her, stuffing them into the pocket on my left chest.  She looked at me in confusion, asking me what I meant.  I told her that I would take care of her when she washed up.

“Jinjja?” She removed her Solim ring and handed it to me in the mean time.  I slipped it into my right pinky, with my own in my index finger, a mere two digits away from each other, and helped her pull her hair up.

She smiled at her reflection.  My gentle hands knew what they were doing since I sported long hair before.  She was pleasantly surprised with a pretty flower-like bun I styled her soft auburn red hair with. 

Then she thought I should pull up my hair with a band too.

Say what?

She reached up and carefully gathered a handful of my hair from my forehead.  There weren’t many occasions when she was standing this close to me.  And when she did, I still found myself extremely flustered.  My hands steadied themselves on her hips momentarily until I had the mind to kneel down instead so she could tie my hair properly. 

And I looked like I had a weird apple head by the time she was finished. 

She laughed and smoothed the rest of my hair from my temple. 

She moved on to take off something from her eye while I brushed my teeth.  Make-up, maybe?  I asked her not to scrub so hard.  She confessed that she was removing her fake eyelashes.

“Those were fake?!” I exclaimed in surprise, bubbles nearly coming out of my mouth.

She showed some pieces of really black miniscule strands to me and covered half of her face with one hand to show me the difference.

I grinned, still with toothpaste in my mouth.  “You should go back to Mars!”

She laughed even louder and bumped her folded knee on my thigh, almost hitting me there again.  She leaned her back on me, and my left hand automatically found itself on her waist before she moved away to take out the rest of the excess lashes.

When I went over to the sink to spit, some of the hairs were still there.  “They look like hind legs of an ant!”  And I proceeded to wash them away while I gurgled and washed my face afterwards.

So-eun handed me the towel and brushed her teeth.  She asked me to put an elastic headband, which made me presume she would be giving me another facial.  I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  I looked like I was about to run in a marathon, so I pretended to warm up and pump my fists in the air.

Finally, on to bed.

Lord, I was exhausted.  I collapsed face down on it, with my feet flying before landing heavily afterwards.  I felt a strong slap on my back as So-eun scolded me to move. 

“Okay,” I said tiredly, rolling onto my back on the other side next to the wall.

I sat up and offered to give her a scalp massage, getting her organic hairbrush from the bedside table.  I even channeled some Joseon chambermaid, brushing the hair of the empress.  So-eun jumped into character without hesitation and let me brush and then braid her hair. 

It turned out surprisingly well, although the loose hair came uneven on the sides.  I was happy my wife liked that I was taking care of her. 

I couldn’t help staring at that baby face.  “You look pretty without make-up on,” I complimented sincerely, although I had already seen her bare face when we flew to Turkey.  Though she was always breathtaking with make-up, I liked her natural face the most.  

She shared that she did some exercises before she went to bed and she would like to us to do them.  The first one was bending the leg on the side and lying down.  I cried out at first when she inadvertently reclined me on the bed.  Like an obedient husband, I lay next to her, my body twisted in a weird angle.  I had to sit up moments later and we transitioned to the next exercise where we faced each other, lying on our side.

“Put your hand in front of you.”

Hand sounded a bit like So-eun in Hangul, and so did wish.  So I that So-eun should be in front of me.  She patiently kept insisting that it should be my hand until I agreed and we lifted our legs alternately.  Then we did bicycle pedaling in the air.  I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened between that and then me doing another arm bar on her suddenly.  Resourceful So-eun freed herself by puncturing me on the leg with the sharper end of her comb.

“Let’s do round 2 tonight,” she challenged, and I was ready for it.

Then she looked exasperated, burying her face in the bed, begging me to not keep tiring her. 

I took pity and coaxed her to come closer so I could give her a massage.  She sat and I came from behind, gently draping my right arm in front of her shoulder and using my left thumb to press on her back.

She yelped when I switched to the other side, and I told her that I just massaged on a pressure point.  She suddenly turned and offered to do it for me.  I shook my head, telling her that I wasn’t done yet.

That wasn’t the honest-to-heaven reason why I was refusing.

She was already behind me, however, kneeling and putting her slender arm around my neck to keep me still.

I felt her warm hand on my posterior and I shirked away, instantaneously electrocuted.  The sparks from her touch radiated through the top of my pajamas and the white undershirt I had on, as if she had come into contact with my bare skin.  She laughed as she realized I was more than uncomfortable.

I was painfully…

Ticklish.

I struggled to recoil from her, but So-eun kept playfully poking at me.  I told her about the variety show I was on months ago, when a man had to tickle me as diabolically as he could, but I was able to endure it for more than a minute…

“I was never ticklish in the past…” I tried warding her off by stepping away completely from the bed.  “But I am with you.  There’s too much electricity between us, so we can’t do this.”

And she laughed even more—totally unsympathetic about my dilemma—as I almost toppled backwards. 

It was like all her fingers had electricity running through them.  Or was it because… we were on the bed?

Moreover…

If what I just said wasn’t already a telling sign of my true feelings, then the only thing that could overthrow that would be to directly admit I was in love with her... 

As if she didn’t already know.

Then she ordered me to lie down so she could give me a face pack.  I didn’t why I still tried to protest, knowing that my wife would win this argument anyway.  After some silly seconds of debate, she softened by saying that she would just put cucumber on me and nothing else. 

She sat down on the bed when she returned as she patted her knee, asking me to lay my head on her thigh, using that formal Joseon language again. 

“I don’t let just anyone do this,” she said, as I rested my head where she asked.  “Today is special.”

I reached for a piece of cucumber and stuck it callously on her forehead.

Despite getting used to my odd displays of affection, that Flaxer glare was back, much to my bliss.  “You’re dead.”

I guffawed as she splattered a refrigerated slice of cucumber on my forehead, then to both my cheeks.  “Stay still!” She barked in that Joseon I-am-in-charge-here empress tone.  “Aigoo!  Your face is sticky like rice cakes!”

Her mood improved as she piled more cucumbers on my face, even singing a cheery tune.  Suddenly, I felt her fingers on my parted mouth as she made a kissing sound. 

“You kissed with your fingers,” I whined.  “I’m 30 years old.  You think I would fall for that?”

I knew she was smiling, even with cucumbers on my eyes.

“You fell for it!  Your mouth was open!”

“The reason is you’re not flexible enough for your lips to touch mine,” I dared, my heart beating fast.

“I am flexible,” she retorted, relenting on the cucumbers for now.  “Want to see?”

And then she hovered over me, the tips of her soft, lustrous hair tickling my face.  I blinked and all I could stare at was her sultry mouth just a few inches above me.

“You can’t come down this far,” I provoked even further.

“I can!”

I put the plate of cucumbers on top of my mouth, just to prove my point.  “Eat some.”

Since I was a man, the sneaky idea of pulling the plate at the last moment when she leaned down did flash in my mind, but I was also a man of my word.

I promised my wife I wouldn’t kiss her until she told me to, and I always tried to keep my promises where So-eun was concerned.

She did, very effortlessly.  I acutely felt the plate press on my lips and I closed my eyes. 

Her lips through plate were very much like her hand through my pajamas.

Electricity.

She chewed on the cucumber as she came up, wiping her damp, dewy lips with the back of her hand.  “It’s good.”

I thought to play with her a little more.  I put a cucumber on my chest, and that Flaxer glare got even more intense.

“I already said I can!” So-eun exclaimed, taking on my challenge abashedly.  “Want to see?  Hold on.”

And then she leaned down again, biting the cucumber, her teeth grazing a button on my pajama top as I held my breath. 

“There, see, I’m really flexible,” she said flippantly, returning to putting cucumbers on my face.  “What’s wrong with you, ahjussi?”

“I guess so,” I murmured, still a bit dazed. 

She told me to close my eyes as she put more cucumbers on them. 

“Loving you…” I sang nonsensically, just letting her take care of me the way she wanted to.  While still singing, something a bit cold touched my lips.  Was that her finger, or a cucumber?

My So-eun had cold hands so I guess it could be her finger.  “I can see,” I bluffed.  At best, I could perceive her shadow behind the cucumbers.

Just then, I felt something warm and soft fleetingly brushing my forehead—coinciding with a kissing sound—and my pounding blood rushed through every single part of me.

I took off the cucumbers from my eyes and stared at her as she continued my song nonchalantly. 

“Loving you…” she sang in a casual manner, looking at me in query.  “Loving you…”

“D-Did you just kiss me?” I asked, utterly confused. 

It had to be a real kiss.

“Ani,” she answered, arranging the cucumbers from sliding off my face.  “What are you talking about?”

“You kissed me on the forehead?”

She shook her head, even demonstrating what she did by pressing her fingers on .  “I used my fingers.”

“I’m going to watch the broadcast.”

“Watch it,” she replied, shrugging. 

“I’m not sure about what happened…”

“Come on,” she deflected instead, removing the cucumbers from my cheeks.  “Let’s go to sleep.”

I didn’t need her confirmation, I realized with a grin.

She did kiss me. 

On the forehead this time.

I wonder how many more dates it would take until I get a kiss on the lips…  [*wicked grin*]

Once we cleaned up, she turned off the lights.  She climbed into the bed and placed her legs up on the wall to relax them.

I grabbed the end of the white comforter and rolled over to her, causing her to shriek, leaving it to the imagination of the outside world what exactly happened under the covers.

~~~

March 21^st 2015, Seoul

I watched the live broadcast, as with the rest of the world.

She actually did kiss me. 

It was a lot different seeing it for myself than from the time it was happening.

It felt… more real. 

I did believe that So-eunnie cared for me, and it was being translated more naturally now through her actions.  I felt loved by her.

Bring it on, MBC. 

So-eun and I could go for 50 more years of this.

Then I looked closely at the last scene, when I wrapped her in my arms under the covers.

Her toes curled.

~~~ The End ~~~