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Lips.

Mouth.

Jongin replayed it again. The slow, tenderizing moment when Namjoo’s lips clung to his before parting. Her hand touching his nape to pull him toward her.

He flushed with heat. Sitting there sweating while the noise in the cafeteria barely entered his ears. Shy. Stunned. Exhilarated. Discreetly staring as Namjoo took a bite of their lunch. chewing, moving.

Her lips.

His heart was beating like a sledgehammer.

Namjoo had kissed him.

Namjoo had kissed him.

The moment replayed in his head again. Her slow breathing as she moved away. The body brushing up into him. Her bra was softly padded.

He gulped. Feeling as if someone had dumped a pot of boiling water over him. A shiver of heat washed down his body.

Thinking about the kiss.

Listening to his heart race.

Namjoo took another bite of their lunch. He stared at her lips. Trying to recall the warmth of them.

Jongin quickly darted his eyes away and jammed his empty spoon into his mouth when she looked up. Grimacing at his mistake he pulled the spoon out. Namjoo chugged down her cup of water then grabbed a white napkin to dab at her lips.

Jongin swallowed again.

“I was just returning the favor,” Namjoo quickly broke the mood.

His attention swam up to the fore. Disappointed that he hadn’t stayed underneath the water replaying the kiss longer. That Namjoo hadn’t let him stare longer.

“Huh?” he asked dumbfounded.

She pressed her lips together. His eyes landed on them. Was she wearing lipstick?

“Before, when we were putting up your curtain,” Namjoo reminded.

Jongin thought back to the early days when Namjoo had tried hiding the baby from him. Right…the curtain, but he hadn’t really kissed her.

“It was an eye for an eye,” Namjoo said.

He stared at her disbelieving.

“Oh…right…” he quietly muttered.

That evening he stole glances of her over his shoulder. Saw Namjoo sitting at the table drinking her glass of water. Imagined the cool dew travelling over her lips into . When they ate he stared at , and when they slept he lay wide awake staring at the ceiling. In the morning when they rode the elevator down he tried to see if she was wearing lipstick.

All the way to the weekend he thought about her lips. The way she had quickly touched him just to kiss him.

It didn’t fade from his mind even when his mother came over that Saturday.

“I brought you some tonics,” she hefted the heavy box onto the table.

Jongin didn’t have the energy to scold her. He had been busy staring off into the living room where Namjoo had been watching television before offering to open the door. Now he watched the two women go over the tonic. His mother giving instructions; when and how much to drink daily, but all he saw was Namjoo in her shirt and sweats. Her hair knotted in a ponytail. No lipstick today.

Like usual he had been thinking about that kiss. Realizing he wanted to kiss her, too, but he didn’t know when the correct moment to do it was. They weren’t super close yet, but they chatted like friends from time to time. Sometimes they got awkward. Unsure whether being shy in their state of relationship made sense anymore.

They were having a baby. They were living together. Eating at one table. Sleeping on one bed.

He could swear they weren’t close yet. Didn’t even know much about each other, but he knew the way she slept. If she lay in one position she could stay there all night. If she tugged the blanket from him in her sleep, he wouldn’t get it back. She wore cherry blossom scented perfume. He had seen the bottle in her little drawer in his room. She knew her makeup. Wasn’t stingy if he touched or moved it elsewhere to wipe away dust. Whatever he cooked, she ate, and she liked going for seconds, sometimes thirds.

He didn’t know her favorite color. Her size clothes. What size shoes she wore. What she preferred in his home. If she liked animals. What annoyed her. What her pet peeves were. Her hobbies, favorite shows, movies.

What she liked and disliked about him…

He didn’t know a lot.

She was probably the same.

Yet she had kissed him.

Now she was all he could think about.

Maybe they were really becoming something.

Namjoo glanced at him from the corner of her eyes as his mother continued speaking. He couldn’t look away. His heart beat a little harder when Namjoo turned.

Touching her face, she asked, “What?”

Frowning, his mother turned to look at him. “What’s going on?”

Catching his breath, he turned toward his mother. “Want to go to the market today?”

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Jongin waited in front of the bedroom door. Nervous. Fidgety. Namjoo was inside getting dressed. He was just waiting for her to get out, so he could change

“What’s wrong with you?” his mother asked. “You’re not getting ready?”

He turned to find his mother watching him with keen eyes. Nervous, he tried, “No…I uh…Namjoo likes her privacy.”

“Privacy?” she repeated incredulously. “What’s there to keep from each other in a marriage? You eat together, sleep together, bathe together. You’re having a baby!”

His face went a shade pinker. “Mom!”

Finally, the bedroom door opened. He jumped at the sight of Namjoo. in a breath to calm his beating heart he gulped, hoping his mom was not observing them.

“Are you not feeling well?” Namjoo wondered staring up at him.

His eyes swam over her lips and quickly looked elsewhere. Touching his nape, he squeezed past, “I’m fine.”

Closing the door behind him he sighed. If he acted any stranger his mother wouldn’t leave him alone. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

Quickly pulling on some fresh clothes, Jongin joined them outside.

“Which market do you want to go to?” he asked as they left the building.

“I thought you decided?” his mother glanced at him. When the women’s eyes landed on him he couldn’t help but flush, being put on the spot so suddenly.

“N…no, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the market,” Jongin clarified, nervous. “Unless you want to do something else.”

“Well, then, lets go to the market,” his mother decided as they reached his car. Grabbing the door knob, she said, “Lets go to Namdaemun. It’s closer to my house and you two can rest for the night.”

He unlocked the door and watch her settle into the backseat feeling blank all of a sudden. He had expected to return to the privacy of his home with Namjoo after the trip. They could settle in for the night and do stuff.

Even though the afternoon rush had not peaked tourists and morning goers was already scavenging the wide street. Activity buzzed along the winding market, shoppers scanning the various products on display. Military gear that way and cosmetics this way. Kids clothes, jewelry, electronics. Further along the corner would be the steaming soup alley. The next corner the foodie alley.

The entire market smelled of food. Swelled with noise. Big metal spoons clinking against pots and pans. Spatulas flipping over frying food.

“It’ll be so nice to make some stew for dinner,” his mother commented as they walked by. Her eyes immediately lit up as they passed a shop selling infant clothing. “Oh my! Look at how adorable these are!”

Picking up a pair of tiny blue socks she grinned excitedly. His heart fluttered. The vendor, a wide woman in her early forties, leaned forward to inquire about him and Namjoo. He didn’t miss the proud smile on his mother’s face as she glanced back at them explaining about the baby on the way.

“Have you found out if it’s a girl or a boy?” his mother wondered.

“I think it’s still too early to find out,” Namjoo replied.

“Any color will do,” Jongin cut in. “It doesn’t matter.”

Namjoo glanced up at him curiously before his mother happily pulled her toward the table to go through the selection. They walked off with a set of socks, a onesie, and a matching hat. All of which Jongin snagged the bag from his mother as she offered it to Namjoo, saying, “I’ll carry it.”

As they rounded the corner his mother interested herself in handmade jewelry. Pulling on Namjoo’s arm for her attention he led her to a booth two tables away. A selection of fashionable flats was displayed across a long table and stacked on the ground on top of their shoe boxes.

“Do you want a pair?” he wondered.

“I have shoes,” Namjoo answered.

“I’ll buy you a pair,” he offered, “so you won’t keep tripping.”

Namjoo skittishly burst into laughter. “Haven’t you heard that if you buy a woman shoes she’ll leave you?”

“But I don’t think you will,” Jongin smugly grinned even though he wanted to ask will you?

She seemed to ponder the option then asked, “You’re buying?”

“I will,” he promised.

Moving forward to eye the selection Namjoo observantly went through her options. Choosing a sleek purple pair. Slipping out of her fabric tennis shoes she tried the flats on. “Ok?” she wondered.

“Looks good,” Jongin answered.

The vendor thanked them as he paid. Returning to his mother he said, “I’ll carry that.”

“You don’t need to be chivalrous,” Namjoo moved the bag away from him.

Jongin made a face at her when they reached his mother who was still immersed in shopping. They waited off to the side in order not to be in the way of other people. Jongin eyed the crowd trying to conjure up a list of things to do.

“Do you want to eat?” Jongin asked.

Namjoo shot him a curious look from the corner of her eyes that said she knew he was up to something. “Are you buying?”

“I will.”

Over the next hour and half, he went through forty dollars buying food for Namjoo, himself, and his mother. Twenty-five on Namjoo. The rest on him and his mother.

That quickly he went through the rest of the cash in his wallet. By the time they returned to his mother’s apartment from a quick stop at the mart he felt drained.

Slumping into the sofa Jongin closed his eyes. Thinking about a fluffy bed, warm sheets, and fat pillow. Behind him his mother and Namjoo were sorting through the goods they had come back with. He listened to her tell Namjoo that she had moved here after his father passed. To a newer environment that wasn’t stained with nostalgic memories. Jongin had lived with her for a few short years before moving out to make his own life.

Like every typical family there was a family portrait on the wall. High school Jongin smiling proudly between his parents. Other pictures of the family was plastered along the walls. Each photo backed by its own history that built up this apartment his mother had come to call home. Pots of her plants lined the window sill. Each pot evenly spaced.

The apartment was highly organized with each little thing belonging in its own space. The wooden floors were dustless and shone magnificently as if she mopped daily. Not a book lay amiss or a pen where it wasn’t meant to be.

“Jongin’s room used to be just down the hall,” his mother explained. “I’ve turned it into a guest room, but I guess tonight it’s Jongin’s room again.” Then she called out, “Jongin! Go in the hall closet and see if there are any clean sheets.” Very gently she asked Namjoo, “You don’t have any plans tonight? Then stay here for the night and return home in the morning.”

Trying not to yawn he got up to hurriedly complete his chore. Pulling out a clean bed sheet from the closet he started down the hall toward his old bedroom. His mother wouldn’t have moved anything. Leaving his desk, his drawers, his small bookshelf in place in case he someday came back. Not permanently but to stay for a few nights if he ever missed home. Who would have guessed that he would have returned with the mother of his child?

He wasn’t far off. Opening the door, he stepped in experiencing a tiny wave of teenage nostalgia. Recalling the first time he had walked into this place after burying his father. Thinking he would make changes to his way of life. Mature fast so he could take care of his mother, not be a burden. Grow up to become a good man. Make his father proud. Become the filial son his parents wanted him to be.

He was making the right decisions, wasn’t he?

Jongin couldn’t help but wonder what his father would say to him. Pat him on the back and say he was proud that he was doing the right thing. Accepting Namjoo. Taking her in. Taking responsibility for their irresponsible behavior. Or would his father be disappointed with the foolish mistake he had made?

The creak behind him made him turn to see Namjoo poking her head in. Recalling what he’d come in for he began stripping the old bedsheet off the bed.

“Do you need help?” she asked.

“I got it,” he said. Halfway through his work he turned to find her still at the doorway. Half looking at him. Half looking around. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “I just kind of thought…there would be some stuff around.”

He shifted to face her curious. “Like what?”

“Like,” she waved her hand in the air, “girl group posters. A calendar of a bikini model. Toy cars. Games.”

Laughing he rolled up the rest of the old bedsheet and tossed it her way. Namjoo giggled as she picked up the bedsheet.

Spreading out the new sheet he asked, “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Lets hope it’s a girl.”

“Why?”

“So she won’t need a calendar of a bikini model,” Jongin joked. Throwing her head back, Namjoo loudly laughed and tossed the sheet at him before walking out.

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The night went by smoothly. Exhausted from a day’s worth of walking they fell asleep immediately when the lights went out. His mother already had the breakfast table set up before they even woke up. As soon as they cleaned up together they were back home – his place.

Jongin had just showered. Changed into fresh clothes. He was staring at Namjoo’s collection on the shelf behind the mirror. Her face creams, moisturizers, and makeup remover. Sinking in the fact that she was starting to make his place her home made him fuzzy inside.

He walked out to find her in the kitchen standing at the counter with his back to him. If they had returned home last night they would have just watched television before heading off to bed. He was pretty sure that was what they would have done if they hadn’t gone to his mother’s.

Quietly walking up behind her he saw that she was flipping through a manual. Peering over her shoulder he recognized the pattern on the manual as the same one on the tonic box his mother had arrived with yesterday.

“What you reading?” he asked.

Namjoo let out a yelp as she jumped out of surprised and turned around knocking her head into his chin. They both gruntled out of pain.

“What are you doing?!” she scolded him, rubbing her head.

For some reason, Jongin laughed seeing the scowl on her face. Patting her head, he soothed, “There, there.”

Swatting his hand, she ordered, “Move, I’m going to go sit.”

Jongin grabbed the edge of the counter to block her. His heart sped up as he realized the small gap between them.

Yesterday when Namjoo had been too occupied helping his mother to look for him, he had pulled out the set of infant clothes his mother had bought. the soft fabric. Holding up the clothes and the socks that weren’t even as big as his palm. Imagining this tiny thing that was theirs.

“Your dad would be so happy,” his mother had told him last night. “He’d like her so much. Lets take her to see him one of these days.”

A strange rush of emotions surged through him as he glanced into her eyes. He didn’t hesitate swooping right in to kiss her. Moving a little closer to press their bodies together. Parting his lips for a breather before kissing her again.

Mistake or not, they were having a baby. Namjoo was the right decision. His father would be proud.

***Sorry for the delay in updating. I was sick this week and not feeling so well, but after a lot of rest I am feeling much better! Enjoy enjoy =DD