Golden

She creeps through the room with light-footed and careful steps — which is a true exercise on one’s stealth — as she tries not to trip over and keep her hands steady. She’s also trying to keep as quiet as possible, amidst all the late night calisthenics. Of course, it doesn’t help that she’s walking around with only a candle lighting up her way, but that’s beside the point, really.

Gingerly, she places the thing she’s holding on the bedside table and climbs up the bed to wake the man sleeping in it — at least, not prematurely since she has about two minutes to midnight anyway. So she spends the next few seconds sitting there and willing the time to tick by as she stares at the man to whom she has given her heart to. The shadows from the candle light dance around the room while the pale glow of the moon bounces off his golden skin, and she’s mesmerized. 

He is possibly the most beautiful man she has laid eyes upon. And though he is not conventionally handsome, none of the pretty features that every one seems to go crazy for, he is all man, and in her eyes it doesn’t make a of difference for he is hers and he’s a beauty she will never stop staring at.

Sighing, she looks up at the clock and finds that she has only a minute to go, so she finally leans down and presses a soft kiss against his temple in an attempt to rouse him from his deep sleep. He stirs, but only barely, before he shifts and his arms sling across her hips. He is asleep enough to not notice that she is up and in an awkward position at the moment.

Still, the candles are burning (and thank god she chose the long ones) and the clock has struck, so she shakes him lightly, just enough to get him to be conscious again. He’s been tired lately, poor thing, doing as much as he does, and she almost wants to let him sleep. Tonight, though, is special and she wants to usher the new day with him. She tries to wake him again, and is only mildly successful as she hears him groan and his arms tighten around her.

“Baby,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She places her hand against his cheek, cupping them warmly, as she calls out his name. “Kim Jong Kook.”

He barely responds as he tries to haul her more into his arms. She chuckles at the child-like behavior, charmed, nevertheless.

“Yah, Kim Jong Kook,” she says once more, louder and more forceful now.

His left eye opens a fraction as he moans in dissatisfaction. “What, Soo Yeon,” he grunts, his voice low and raspy, heavily sleep-riddled and he’s so adorable that she smiles, despite herself.

She gives up and leans down to place her lips close to her ear so she can whisper to him in the best English she can muster (courtesy of his tutoring, nonetheless). “Happy birthday, my love.”

The words penetrate him with a little delay but when they do, his eyes open and he wakes. His vision is a little bleary, his eyes a little glassy, but his sleepy little smile is enough to make her heart melt.

“Now get up and blow your candle,” she instructs as she shifts and moves to get the cake on the side table. She is a little surprised that the candle hasn’t burned out to the tips, really, but is glad as he sits down finally and leans over to blow them. She makes him pause for a second though. “Make a wish.”

He looks at her with a gaze she cannot read, but she maintains her smile as he closes his eyes and finally blows the candles. When his eyes open again, they are gla