It’s late at night on the same day and I don’t know why I cannot sleep. I take two sleeping pills. But, an hour later, when I feel no affect, I decide to go downstairs to read.

As I walk down the hallway towards the lounge, the sounds of a guitar is heard. It’s soft and beautiful. I think that maybe it’s just the soothing music of the lounge’s radio, but, once I enter I find myself watching the back of a guy.

Not to interrupt him, I make my way, quietly across the room to a seat.

His head is bent over; his hair, an orange color, covers his eyes. He sits gracefully with his legs crossed to support his guitar. And he’s dressed in white pants with a very light colored jacket.

Then, his playing stops. He looks up, see’s me and stares. Not annoyed, but, calmly. I notice who he is, “you’re Ji Hoo right? I didn’t think that anyone would be here. Sorry if I interrupted you, I didn’t mean to.”

He doesn’t say anything. It’s quiet and he doesn’t start back playing. “Oh, don’t mind me,” I tell him, “I’ll just sit here, quietly,” I place a finger on my lips, “you don’t have to worry about me making a sound, okay?” 

I take a seat across the room and open my book. My very uninteresting book. For a while he doesn’t play. As if my presence scared away his confidence. For awhile, I don’t start to read, until he finally starts to play. It’s not awkward, sitting in silence, alone with a guy I barely know, as he plays his guitar. It’s actually soothing. It fills the space between us, it breaks the silence, and it guides me as I read; making time feel as if no time at all has past.

My eyes become tired of reading. I close my book and I look up to find Ji Hoo’s eyes are close as he plays. I cannot help to stare, at him. I cannot help to stare at his face; filled with gentleness, his lips; as they softly move without a sound, his long fingers; plucking at each string and him as a whole. He begins to move slowly to the tune. It seems that whatever he’s playing, it is touching him. And it seems to touch me too. As if it were his voice, it speaks to me.

He stops a moment to write down notes.  “Did you make that yourself?” I ask him. He stops writing, looks up at me and than at his guitar. “Yes, but it’s not finished.” His voice was soft, in that first moment that he spoke to me.

“You don’t speak a lot, do you?” I ask him as he picks up his guitar again. “No,” he replies. He starts to play again, returning to the state that he was in before.

I didn’t notice that a smile captivated my lips. I closed my eyes to listen. Not knowing that I would soon fall fast asleep.

I wake up and remember where I was and who was with me. Ji Hoo? I think as I look down at the jacket covering my body. I rub my eyes thinking what time is it. Through the window the dawn’s light cuts above the retiring night. Its morning and across the room Ji Hoo sits on the couch, asleep.

His arms are crossed over his chest and I walk over to cover him with his jacket, deciding weather to wake him or not. But, he moves a little and I back away, only to trip over his guitar.

When I pick up the guitar he is watching me. I bow, embarrassed, “sorry,” I tell him. “Thank you for the jacket. It’s morning, so I think I should go.” I bow once more before leaving to wait for the elevator.

Thanks for Reading^^