I wake up with my hand on my cheek and my thumb in my mouth. Ack. Gross. I don't my thumb. Well, not anymore. And not recently. Except last night, I suppose. What was I dreaming about? Last time I had caught myself sleeping with my thumb in my mouth, something traumatic happened. I had watched a bird fly into the glass window of a museum and die from the impact. I was about twelve and I felt terrible that it had to meet its end that way, not from old age.

        Maybe that whole thing with the kid and the scaffolding was traumatic? I was crying for a good three hours. But why was my hand on my face?

        I shrug and sit up, do some weird thing to slide me out of bed and onto the floor, stretch out my back and arms and legs, and lie with my nose in the carpet for a few moments. I'm way less tired after stretching now, and that makes me sad. I just want to sleep today, to be honest. Tbh. Hahaha. I'm weird.

        I pick myself off the floor and shuffle into my bathroom. I take what feels like a pretty long shower, but it's only about ten minutes. How's that? Meh, whatever. I turn off the water, dry myself off and rummage around my drawers for a bit. I change into a pair of somewhat nice jeans, a t-shirt, and one of my ugly Grandpa cardigans. You have no idea how much I love these. I should thank Hyuksoo and Hyukshin for taking care of me yesterday.

        I go next door and knock quietly. They're probably still asleep.

        "Abeoji! Someone's at the door! I think it's Chaerin Noona."

        "Go check for me? I can't leave this."

        I pull a silly face then smile pleasantly at the peephole. I wonder if Hyukshin can see me.

        "Abeoji, it is Noona. Can I let her in?"

        "Of course. Have her help you bring that chair back to the dining room, too."

        The door opens. I am greeted by dark, disheveled hair and bright, round eyes. "Good morning, Noona!" Hyukshin smiles. "Did you rest well?

        "Good morning," I say, combing down his hair with my fingers. "Yes, thank you. How did you sleep last night? Your eyes are very clear, so it must have been good."

        Hyukshin nods. "Yes, thank you."

        "There was a chair you needed moving?" I ask. There's a small clamor in the kitchen, like someone's dropped a pan on something metal.

        "How did you hear that?" Hyuksoo asks. "I wasn't speaking all that loudly."

        "I just hear really well," I say, picking up the dining room chair and putting it in an empty place at the table. I've heard of women developing the infamous Mommy Ears a few years before they become mothers themselves.

        "Ah," Hyuksoo says.

        I walk into the kitchen and bow to him politely. He bows in return.

        "Thank you for taking care of me yesterday, in all of my distress," I say. He buries his nose in his shoulder, biting his t-shirt between his lips. He nods.

        "Are you hungry?" he asks. "Since you're here, would you like some breakfast? You weren't eating too well yesterday."

        "Thank you! May I join you for breakfast?"

        "Sure, yeah. You're welcome to have a seat while I finish it. I just need to make some more."

• • •

        We're sitting on the floor in front of their couch after breakfast when Hyukshin suddenly kisses my cheek.

        "Noona?" Hyukshin asks, looking up at me. "I really love you. I wish you could stay with us forever. You're really nice."

        "What makes you say that?"

        "Because you are! You aren't fake, you tell the truth, and you're willing to risk your life for strangers. You're really awesome. Abeoji thinks so, too. He really likes you."

         Hyuksoo looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

        "Is that so?" I ask Hyukshin, but my eyes are on his dad.

        "Yeah!" Hyukshin jumps onto the couch between us and takes small handfuls of our hair, pulling us closer together. Our foreheads bump together clumsily. Hyuksoo giggles lightly.

        Our noses brush past each other, then I feel his lips ghosting against mine. Hyukshin is stronger than my neck at the moment, and Hyuksoo kisses me fully on the lips. It's so strange that it feels so familiar, so right. My eyes are wide open at the initial shock of it all and so are his. Those dark, sharp but soft eyes are welling up with tears. He's sorry. Why?

        Hyukshin releases our heads, laughing evilly almost. "Appa and Noona kissed! Appa and Noona kissed!" he cries.

        Hyuksoo pulls back slowly and carefully. He doesn't look at me, nor I him. My heart is pounding. It didn't mean anything.

        "Hyukshin-ah, please go to my room and stay there for a bit," he finally says. "You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to Noona for a while, all right?"

        Hyukshin quietly obeys the request and shuts the door after him.

        "I'm sorry about that--"

        "Ah, don't be--"

        "I don't know why he did that--"

        "It's ok."

        "I feel bad about it."

        "Please don't! It's all right."

        "I'm sorry to kiss you."

        "It wasn't you."

        "I just feel bad. I feel like I took advantage of you."

        Please do it again. What?

        "What?" he asks. I must've said it out loud. He probably thinks I'm crazy.

        He puts his arm on the couch behind my head, placing his other hand lightly on my cheek and turning my face to him. He tilts his head to the right, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyes close. He kisses me lightly, volts like electricity are ripping through the touch and into my spine. Now it's my turn to apologize.

         I pull back, dropping my head in my hands. "I'm sorry," I mutter.

        "Don't go there, please. I don't have any second thoughts about you. I'm not going to try to make you out to be something I know you're not." His voice is shaking. Is he ok?

       I look up at him. He's sitting on his heels, hugging his knees to his chest and looking at the floor. He looks so small, so thin. I tuck my legs under me, pulling a bothersome section of my slightly damp hair behind my ear. I don't know what to say.

        "Have you found a job yet?" I manage to get out.

        "Not quite. I've been working some odd jobs here and there, and I get paid for them." He sounds grateful for the change of topic. 

        "Oh." I bite my lip. I choose my next words carefully. They are erased quickly. I examine his profile: the hook of his nose, the curve of his lips, his eyelashes, forehead, chin, his strong cheekbones, the shape of the occipital bone on the lower back of his head, the length of his neck, the angle of his jaw, those quirky big ears that stick out, everything. He's quite tall and thin, but probably well built. I can't tell because of his loosely-hanging t-shirt. He seems to know what I'm doing because he stands with his back to me, then turns to go into the dining room. I'm admittedly jealously of his long, straight legs and slight thigh gap. Did I really . . . notice if he had a thigh gap? Welp, I'm kinda done for. He walks heavily, hips swaggering in what I've heard described as a switch. He walks like a model. That's just it!

        "Come to work with me today," I state rather than ask. "You might like it, and you might even be able to find work there. I don't know; we might be in the same department."

        "Thank you," he says. "Wait, don't you have the day off? I thought you called in yesterday and told them what happened and they let you stay home."

        "I still want to go there, just to say hi. And stuff." I smile pleasantly.

        "Um, sure," he said. "I'll go with you. "Where do you work?"