The One with the Phonecall, the Sketching, and the Cuddling

Irene woke up in a pile of papers that were mixed between graded and ungraded, a cup of wine on the coffee table and her ears filled with the music of her favorite band set to her ringtone. She yawned, stretching, and answered her phone without so much as a second thought, rubbing her eyes. “This is Irene.”

“Good morning,” she heard, the familiar voice sending a jolt down her spine as she began to recall yesterday’s events with that man yesterday, who wrote words on his arm that appeared on her own. She suddenly felt more awake, leaned on her desk, thinking little of her students’ work.

She couldn’t stop the grin on her face, “Um… hi, Joonmyeon.”

“Hi,” he chuckled; like notes to a song, “What are your plans today?”

“Oh um…” she looked at the time on her phone and tried to figure out if she needed to do anything important. “Um… I need to grade papers and do some grocery shopping. Why? What are your plans?”

“That’s right, you did say you were a teacher,” she heard, recalling their brief date in the museum café. “I was planning on taking my soulmate out for dinner… but I rather try her own cooking.”

“No,” Irene shook her head, immediately shooting the idea down, “No, I am a lousy cook. I burn water. I boil toast. I can’t even fill a glass of water. I am useless in the kitchen.” She got up from the couch and walked to her bedroom so she could cuddle in her unmade bed. “I prefer knowing the numbers of a few select delivery take out than try to make a grilled cheese.”

“Then what are the groceries for if you don’t cook?”

Irene paused before she admitted she can cook really basic things, but she ends up buying a lot of microwave meals. Joonmyeon chuckled before he suggested a few more ideas, such as going out to eat or eating takeout at a park.

Irene admitted she didn’t want to go anywhere because she never did on Sundays, usually using the day to catch up on bad reality TV and her grading. Joonmyeon told her that he usually met with his family for brunch and they would choose between golfing or sailing in the summer, and window shopping or wine tasting in the winter. This struck Irene a bit as she didn’t really have the money to do any of that stuff, trying to recall the last time she did anything fancy like that; unable to do so.

“Well… I guess we’ll have to try another day to see each other,” he said, a bit of disappointment in his voice. “I mean, we waited twenty some years. Another day won’t kill us.”

Then, against her own selfish judgment, she asked the man to come to her apartment to help her grade, which he exclaimed he was more than happy to. When they hung up, the woman cuddled into her comforter and began to wonder who her soulmate really was. She really hoped he was a nice person because she would hate to be in one of those situations where her soulmate was a jerk.

She then started to wonder if she had to fall in love with her soulmate, which only made her a bit mad at herself that she was starting to think she should deny what she already knew to be a smart, handsome, and possibly kind person.

Yeri concluded two things about her manager: he had an issue with cleanliness, and he was terrible at keeping his eyes off her. Sure, she thought, I may be tooting my own horn, but how many times have I seen him check my out in the reflection of the mirrors or from the corner of my eye? He makes it super obvious too when he bites lip.

She felt ecstatic that he at least lusted after her, which she finally concluded was the weird sense of feelings she would get often if he was arms-length away. It was rather flattering, considered Yeri may have blushed once or twice at the dirty thoughts that floated through her head, unable to filter them out. The manager didn’t look like anything in his professional life, as Irene was using whatever thoughts, either about her, the café, or other matters, to her advantage.

“It’s like you can read my mind,” he said to her later in the week during a break in between rushes. Yeri nearly dropped the cup of coffee she was drying and setting on the rack, brought back from her thoughts on what her big project for one of her classes should be. She stared at him with wide-eyes, wondering what the heck he meant.

As she panicked over the possibility over him quickly discovering her cheat, he picked up the box full of sugar packets that were on the counter, a smile on his face, “I was just thinking that the front needed to be stocked.” Yeri certainly didn’t put the box there, but she decided to take the credit for it anyways, wondering who left it out again. It wasn’t like she always did that, but she wasn’t going to stop him from assuming these little white lies.

She watched him stock the front with straws and lids, napkins and various sugars and creamers. She bit her lip when she let her eyes wander down, restraining herself when she picked up another cup to wipe dry. When she looked back up, he was looking at her, and they both turned away, biting back their shy smiles.

Her shift ended a few minutes later; and didn’t even bother leaving the café as she sat down at one of the tables, bending her leg so her heel perched on her seat as she whipped out her sketchbook and once again started a new page. She put her headphones on to drain the world out as she began to sketch a couple across the café holding hands.

She didn’t realize how long she’s been there or how long ag