Lying in bed that night, you knew that you should be frightened, but you weren’t.  Oliver, on the other hand…you buried your nose in the covers to hide your smile.  Oliver had been terrified.  Sure, he covered it with bluster, and bravado, ripping the computer from the desk, and flinging it across the room, hurting his injured arm in the process, but you had seen it.  That bright shine of fear in his eyes.  Beautiful.

Of course none of this helped his mood.  He had been short and snappish with you all day, far more than usual, the only difference being that while he normally tried to maintain a veneer of civility, which could wear away instantly, now he was all mouth and no trousers.  The pointed comments dug at your already low self-esteem, but you’d take them any day over another bruise to cover, another split lip to explain away, another dislocated joint to nurse.

Kicking your legs excitedly under the covers, you laughed silently.  Maybe the house was haunted.  Maybe this would all end in disaster, you didn’t know.  All you knew was, for the first time in months, you were starting to feel safe again.  Wrapping your arms around yourself, you indulged in a long soundless sigh.  

You turned over and grabbed your phone, ready to finally catch up on some light reading.  This time, you made it three chapters into the fourth book of the Vampire Huntress series before you closed your eyes to blink, and were out like a light.

It’s you

He nodded.  

Why?

Shrugging, he turned, not meeting your eyes.  No one deserves to be treated like that.  

I don’t understand.

He turned back, tossing his hair out of his eyes, and dimpling.  Don’t try.  Isn’t this nice?  It’s quiet here.  It’s safe, here.  I made this for you.  

You nodded, but you were wary.  Are you going to hurt us?

I would never hurt you!

You frightened him.

But not you.

No.  Not me.

***

Morning dawned, and you stretched, deliciously well-rested.  Well-rested?  Leaving your room, you tiptoed to check on Oliver.  He was curled into a ball on the bed, covers over his head, snoring slightly.  

Wrinkling your nose derisively, you went to start breakfast.  

Oliver stumbled in just as you were setting the table, sitting heavily down in a chair, hair wild, still in his pajamas.  You expressed no surprise, but inside your eyebrows were dusting your hairline.  Oliver never stayed in his pajamas after rising.  The only time he was anything less than perfectly turned out is when he was deathly sick  “Did you hear that, last night?” he asked hoarsely.

“Hear what?”

“It was like a steady…smacking noise.  Like someone walking around my room, over and over, slowly slapping their hand against the wall, all night.”

“I’m sorry. I heard nothing.”

Oliver nodded distractedly, and began to eat.  That, in itself was surprising, as well.  Usually, he couldn’t resist a well-placed barb referencing your ostensible obliviousness.  

Reaching inside your pocket, you palmed the cuff-links.  They pulsed warmly in your hand.  So.  “What time do we have to be at sajangnim’s house?”

“Hm?”

Again, you hid your surprise at his level of distraction.  Usually Oliver was like a shark, hearing everything everyone said, with a perfect answer at the ready.  “What time do we have to be at sajangnim’s house, for dinner?”

He thought a moment.  “Yes, the dinner.  Five o’clock.”

Nodding, you leaned forward to begin your breakfast.

***

Upon your arrival at sajangnim’s house, Oliver was once more perfectly turned out.  You could see your face in the shine of his shoes.  

He rang the buzzer at the gate and, after identifying himself, you were buzzed inside the courtyard.  

Samonim greeted you at the door, looking as poised and elegant as ever.  “Welcome!  Don’t you look lovely, my dear!” she gave you air kisses, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.  

“Thank you, samonim.  You’re looking as beautiful, as ever.”  That was an understatement.  The woman was too beautiful to be human, and the mere idea of the staggering amount of work and preparation that must go into that level of perfection was exhausting.

“You’re too kind.  Please, come inside!”

Following her, you found sajangnim in the living room, setting up the table for baduk. You could feel Oliver’s tension at your back.  He hated losing, and was a pretty good baduk player, but he was also smart enough not to beat his boss.  

“Welcome, welcome!” sajangnim bellowed off-handedly, waving you both closer.  “Are you ready to lose, Oliver-sshi?”

Oliver waggled a perfectly manicured finger.  “I don’t know.  I may beat you, yet, sajangnim!”

“Eh, well, we’ll see, we’ll see,” sajangnim muttered, still carefully lining up the pieces.

The night progressed as dully as you had imagined it would, with samonim name dropping–uselessly, as you didn’t know any of the people she mentioned–and detailing her last several major purchases, and sajangnim beating Oliver in three successive games, before dinner was served.  

At least the dinner was delicious.  You couldn’t fault the ahjumma who had prepared and served it, and you ate everything with relish.  

“Your girlfriend eats well!” sajangnim said to Oliver.  He had already downed 9 shots of soju.

Oliver turned to you, his eyes full of censure.  

Sajangnim waved a hand at you.  “Please, eat more!  I love to see young people enjoying their food.  Everyone’s so worried about their figures nowadays.  Just eat healthily, and you’ll be fine!”  

You surreptitiously eyed his wife.  The woman was a stick.  Well…a very elegant, very expensive stick. Stomach twisting, you continued to eat, but at a much slower rate.  Honestly, you wished that you were as thin as she.  You knew that Oliver did.  Oliver liked neat things, and any spare flesh was up for attack.  He kept himself up to stringent standards, and expected everyone else to do the same.  You looked down, trying to keep your face neutral, trying to hide your distress.  You knew that you would hear about this tonight.

***

The car was silent as Oliver drove home, his jaw tight.  

You watched the buildings pass, thinking of where your life would have been had you not decided to follow him.  

He broke the silence.  “Must you embarrass me everywhere we go?”

“I’m sorry,” you said dully.  The phrase no longer held any meaning.  

“Don’t be sorry, be better!  Do better!  Is it so hard to behave like a decent human being?!”

“I don’t think that sajangnim was being sarcastic,” you ventured.

Oliver’s voice rose in disbelief.  It had been months since you had actually answered one of his patented wickedly barbed rhetorical questions.  “Are you kidding me?!” he yelled, his face turning a mottled shade of scarlet.  “That’s called good breeding, or are you too stupid to even realize when someone is being polite?”

Without thinking, you sighed.  

Oliver turned to you, his face twisted.   “Are you exasperated?  Are you angry?  Do you think that you’ve done anything right?!  You know what, when we get home, I’ll give you something to sigh about!”  Turning back to the street, he gave a sudden shriek, and sharply turned the wheel.  

You looked forward just in time to see the man from your dreams, standing casually in the street.  The car went through him, veered to the side, and hit the back of another vehicle that had stopped at a stoplight.  

Oliver’s head crashed into the steering