They arrived at her parents’ house without any difficulty. Her eomma had prepared a feast to satisfy even Hyung Sik’s voracious appetite. Once their hearty meal was done, they offered to do the washing and clearing to give her parents a break.

Hyung Sik had on a frilly flowered pink apron, purple latex gloves, and a bright blue dish scrubber on his hands. These were elbows deep in the sudsy sink, scrubbing away when he heard a ‘click’ somewhere to his left. He looked up to see Bo Young in similar looking outfit, holding her phone, gleefully taking candid shots of him in this getup. She was visibly amused, her giggles now ringing in the kitchen, as she kept clicking away.

“Aissh, wae, wae! Now you’ve done it!” His mouth quirked in that typical embarrassed expression of his, with his tongue pushing his cheek out. “Someone needs to be punished!” He looked at her with a naughty gleam in his eyes, as he slowly peels his gloves off, and deliberately made his way towards her.

Bo Young was still laughing uncontrollably, making short hiccupy sounds of amusement, “Jeo-anieyo! Anieyo!” while she raised her arms in an attempt to wave him off.

“Uh-huh, you were going to make fun of me, weren’t you?” he said.

“No, I’m not. You look cute—hahaaahaahaahaaha,” she rasps out, her words ending in gales of laughter while she tried to skirt his reach.

Hyung Sik did a quick side step and she found herself cornered in the small recess between the sink and the cabinetry. Her laughter died in and her eyes widened in surprise when she realized the position they were in.

Hyung Sik has her trapped between his arms, her back flushed to the wall; she had no means of escape. He is staring at her again with those heated gaze, his throat visibly working, as his face inched closer and closer to hers. She gulps audibly as she felt his lips barely grazing hers, his nose touching her cheek, his eyes never wavering from her face.

He could hear her breaths coming in short gasps until he finally closed the gap between them. He kissed her lightly at first, a slow tug on her bottom lip, nipping her gently as if he wanted to savor the taste of her, missing her after all this time. Then his hand came up to cup her face and his mouth descended to fully capture hers. He kissed her as if his life depended on it; like a man whose thirst could not be slaked, searching insatiably for the source to quench his need. His tongue traced her lips seeking entry until he felt her respond, in the slow opening of those soft, tender lips to show her acquiescence. And he kissed her deeply, fervently, and oh so thoroughly until their breaths mingled and he no longer knew where she ended and he began.

.

.

They broke free after hearing a door slam in the distance. They mirrored each other: faces flushed, eyes still glued to each other, lips visibly bruised. Her arms had travelled on their own and had wound themselves around his neck, one hand his hair as if he were a lifeline she could not let go; while his left hand rested on her neck to cradle her warm cheek, as the other encircled her waist, keeping her close, embracing her tightly as if he were afraid she would disappear if he let her loose.

They were forced to stand apart when they heard the others come in the house.

Bo Young felt a shudder go through her, the memory of his kisses still lingering on her lips, on her mind, and leaving an indelible brand on her skin.

They were in her living room in her parent’s house. He was in deep conversation with her father, talking animatedly about sports they both follow avidly. She vaguely heard her eomma asking her a question, so engrossed was she in him, in her thoughts of him. “Mianhe, eomma, I didn’t hear you.”

Her mom smiled a knowing smile at her. She's seen how much Bo Young cared for this boy. Granted, she has had a relationship in the past, but even then, Bo Young had maintained her reserve. When things ended abruptly between the two, Bo Young kept her reasons to herself, and would only say that the timing wasn't right for them. It was unusual; Bo Young held a close relationship with her mom and had always confided in her. She suspected that concern for them prompted the relationship's early demise. She reached out to caress her daughter’s hair. “I’m glad you are both here. I miss you. It’s been a while since you visited. It’s good to see you happy.”

Bo Young leaned into her mother’s arms. She didn’t have to speak, her face giving her answer away.

.

Her room was cozy. She still had the same bed she had growing up in this house. Her eomma had left everything much the same, minus a few idol posters she had hanging on the walls. The dresser her abba bought for her still stood in the corner, though looking scuffed from abuse, was well polished and maintained. How lucky was she to have such loving parents! They were not rich but her parents made sure she and her sisters had wanted for nothing. They grew up happy and much, much loved.

.

Bo Young changed into her nightclothes and sat down on her bed. She was wide awake, thinking of him in the other room.

Hyung Sik had a sleeping pellet next door, refusing the offer to use the better furnished guest bedroom upstairs. But the pellet was plush and thick and warm; he didn’t mind sleeping on it on the floor at all. Besides, he didn’t want to be far away from her if he could help it, as much as propriety allowed. And so he had lain down on his pallet cheerfully, with only a wooden partition wall separating them.

He heard her door open and he looked up. She stood holding a thick blanket in her hands. She went on to place it on the floor in her side of the room, placing blankets and pillows parallel to his and laid herself down facing him. They were but a hand’s reach away from each other, separated by a piece of threshold.

Her hand reached out to touch his cheek, and she whispered a soft “jal-ja.”

Hyung Sik took hold of her hand and kissed it tenderly; then placing it on his chest, where his heart is, he whispered “ne sarang.”

.