Lee Dong Wook stands tall in the sun, with dark sunglasses on his head. He's smiling at me, his perfect set of teeth shining brighter now under the warm, comfortable heat. 

"Song Ji Hyo-ssi." He says to me, as he approaches me. 

Then real life comes, I still had my legs pressed against my chest, now very numb since all the blood circulation's been cut off. 

He was shaking me. 

"I'm sorry I did this to you, I wonder how you brought me here." He says, it was still so early in the morning. It was already one in the morning when we reached home. Or when I brought him home. 

I set my legs on the floor, I have pins and needles. Even my computer is now asleep. I'm rubbing my eyes. 

"You should spend the night, it's too early to get home. I'll take you to your car tomorrow. Do you have anything in the morning?" I asked him and he said no. 

"Then make yourself comfortable, Dong Wook-ssi." I said, trying to find feel back from my legs. 

"I don't want to impose. I think this is very forward of me. I can catch a cab instead." 

"It's not imposing. And you're still very tired and drunk. Get some rest." I said. 

He nods, abiding. 

"I'm going to go sleep, okay?" I said, finally raising from the chair. 

"Goodnight, Ji Hyo-ah." He says. 

"Goodnight Dong Wook-ah." I said, as I close the door behind me. You can't believe of how tired I am. 

I woke up from the sound of my radio alarm. It was already nine o' clock. When I went back out to the living room, he was still sleeping. The blinds closed shut, I tie my hair while I walk and went to the kitchen. I am starving. 

I made soup, and just served banchans and fried up some eggrolls. The rice is piping hot and steaming, by the time it was done, he walked into the kitchen, half-asleep. 

For someone who's so polite, half-asleep, he scoops two bowls of rice and cuts up the egg rolls for me to serve. Mom sent me so much banchan this week, even when I don't cook, I still am properly fed. I set out some kimchi, still fresh and new. I usually like mine a bit aged but beggars can't be choosers. 

He prayed a bit and didn't talk while he ate. I think it takes him a while to be really up. He does everything in auto-pilot. He somewhat still smells like soju. 

When the meal was finished, he waited for me to finish eating then proceeded to do the dishes. He only asked me one thing when he was done, and I was putting away banchans back into the fridge. "Can I take a shower?" 

I said okay, told him to use the outside bathroom near the living room. I gave him a towel, and a fresh toothbrush. I gave him one of Kwang Soo's sweaters too. He didn't ask much about it, just took it. 

I went to take a shower too, dressed lightly since I'm off work today. A knitted sweater, faded blue black jeans was all that was enough for me. I tied my hair into a high bun, let my baby hairs cover my forehead. 

He was done, drying his hair and trying to figure out where to set his towel when I came back. 

"You have a really nice place. Are you still renting?" 

"No I bought this place a while ago." I said, setting on the sofa. Are we friends now? I wonder. 

"I'm sorry I intruded. I didn't mean to." He says, and he's always big on apologies. 

"It's fine. I'm glad to have guests, it's quite lonely.. you know, living alone." 

He tells me he takes a while to actually wake up, so he needed the shower. I told him it was fine. 

"Did you make the banchans?" He asked me. 

"No my mom sends me food every week. But some are mine." 

"Its delicious. Thank her for me." I told him I will. 

We were silent for a minute, the house was quiet and all we could hear was the traffic downstairs. Then he looks at me. 

"You are very comforting, Ji Hyo-ah, do you know that?" He says. "Every time I'm with you, I'm at ease. I don't usually sleep around people. Like except for my parents. This is the first time." 

"What do you mean?" 

"It's like, when I see you, it doesn't matter where. Right now, or at the set, or even at the restaurant, every time I look at you, my heart flutters and it makes me feel, okay, there's nothing for me to worry about once you're there." 

I chuckled. "You're making it seem like you're in love with me." 

He smiles at me, that irresistable boyish charm. "would it be bad if I tell you maybe I am?"

He changed the subject as soon as I turned red. He asked me what I was doing today. "There's an old bookstore near the university that I'd like to see. I feel like I want to read more." I answered honestly. I don't really get a lot of off days and I usually try to fill it by the brim. 

"Can I join you?" He asks me.

"You're welcomed to join." 

I sent him back to the restaurant we ate last night, for him to pick up his car and agreed to meet at 12 pm. I did errands in the morning, went food shopping and did laundry, maybe I was hoping that he'd cancel so I wouldn't have to face what he said prior.

We met again, at an Italian restaurant for lunch. I decided on the place, since I was dying to get some pasta. He ordered the carbonara fettucini, while I had the ravioli with red sauce. We shared a Neapolitan pizza, and a tomato salad together. He didn't eat as much as we did before, but we did our plates clean. By the time we were finished, we lazily went to the bookstore that was about ten minutes away from the restaurant. 

I love the smell of old books. The ahjussi in front was friendly and informative, he told me the history of the small quaint bookshop. It was only him, and his grandson. A smart-looking man in his late twenties. We scoured around, most are old literature books from the 80s that seemed of no value at all, but some are actually quite a novelty. He was not much of a reader, but delved into mystery books on the second floor. It was a secondhand bookshop, there's not much that is sold that was exteemely expensive - not like the books you get in the more mainstream bookstores. 

I bought an English romance novel, I plan on brushing my English a bit, might be useful in the future. The rest I just bought books from the past that I've heard of, filled a paperbag heavy and he lugged it around for me. He bought ome book too, "maybe I'll enjoy reading as much as you do, so we can visit again once you've finished reading." He says then he pauses. "Or maybe I'll just accompany you, please don't have high hopes." I simply chuckled, told him its fine. 

I wondered if it was a date. He didn't hold my hand or anything, but sometimes he'd wrap his arm around my waist when I was walking too closely to the road on the sidewalk. Some people did recognize us, and it's a normal occurence. Some even take pictures. I wonder if he minded. 

By the end of the date (or meeting, I wonder), he sent me home. 

"I really enjoyed spending time with you." He says. 

"I had a good time too." I said, he stares at me, then looks away. I was ready to leave, had my hand on the latch already. 

He kissed my cheek. "I had to do it, at least once." 

I left the car, touching my cheek as if I was protecting it. Now more confused than ever.