As it turned out, Minwoo was a fantastic model once he became accustomed to the camera that rarely fell from Kwangmi’s eyes.  Most of the time, he found his own facial expressions, knowing what to do with little prodding on Kwangmi’s part.  Through various calming techniques she taught him, he was able to settle into multiple stances effortlessly.  To Minwoo, he didn’t feel like a model posing for pictures.  Kwangmi made him feel like he didn’t have to look any certain way, just be himself.  So that’s what he did.  He gave her his most genuine eye-smiles, sassiest smirk, most playful grin.  Of course, not much effort was put into any of them when she drew his expressions out naturally with a witty comment, a cute joke, or her own clumsiness.  Kwangmi also showed him patience, holding the camera ready while talking with him, waiting for that picture perfect moment.  Minwoo couldn’t wait to see how they turned out.

Fading sun rays stretched across the burning sky, lending soft light to the unwinding city.  A mild breeze blew, stirring up the still air with its gentle caresses.  With the setting sun, Minwoo thought their day would come to a close.  He had it all planned out.  He’d help her pack up her camera supplies, grab his own digital, and walk her home.  They wouldn’t take the bus –he wanted this time with her to last as long as he could stretch it.  He would attempt at brushing their fingers, maybe even hooking them lightly before letting go again.  It was too soon to hold hands, though heaven knew he wanted to.  But patience is a virtue and Minwoo resolved to finally learn it.  He would-

“Minwoo, let’s go over here now.”  Kwangmi’s energetic voice interrupted his planning.  “I want to do some serious ones with the fading light.”  She started walking away, skillfully adjusting dials to correspond the exposure levels with the approaching dusk.  He didn’t understand what most of them did, let alone what they were called, but he knew enough from her brief lessons to guess as to what they were related to.

Mentally, Minwoo didn’t think he had the energy to comply with her request.  But he couldn’t say no.  He couldn’t deny her anything when she showed him that pretty smile.  Dragging his feet, he followed her to the pond where he sat on one of the large boulders surrounding the pool of sparkling water.  He acquiesced to her order of removing his shoes and socks, the bottom of his feet already stained with dirt acquired during previous barefoot photographs.  The cuffs of his jeans rolled up as a result of his busy fingers.  At Kwangmi’s command, Minwoo pulled his left leg up, placing his barefoot on the edge of the weathered rock, his left arm lazily situated on his raised knee.  Peering down at the water, the toes of his right foot skimming the surface, his rippling reflection stared back at him.

“Don’t move, but,” he heard Kwangmi shuffle towards him, her fingers running through his brown locks, mussing it a bit.  “Now put your right hand on your left thigh and bend your elbows a touch.” 

Obediently, he did as he was told, not shifting the slightest save for his elbows that bent mere centimeters and the relocation of his right hand from the speckled stone to the denim of his jeans.  It really is quite miraculous what a few centimeters can do, how such a small, seemingly unimportant body part, could create such difference.  His tense shoulders dropped comfortably, his expression slackened, the shallow creases in his forehead smoothed.  Minwoo didn’t smile.  Just stared impassively at the water that submerged his toes.  Kwangmi stood on a separate rock, pointing her camera down at him, supposedly getting brilliant shots from her agreeable mutterings.  He smiled, the dancing figure floating along the surface of the water mirroring her movements as she captured him from various directions.  She really was too cute.

“Hold that,” she said suddenly.  He kept the curvature of his lips in place as she snapped the photo.  “Okay, now get rid of the smile and look straight in front of you.”

Bringing his head up, gaze shifting to the opposite end of the lake, Minwoo allowed his focus to blur, taking in everything and nothing at all.  The soft breeze blew through his hair, bangs falling annoyingly across his eyes, but he resisted the urge to brush them away.  If Kwangmi wanted them adjusted, she would do it herself.  Again, the girl did what she did best with her camera.

Before he knew it, she was repositioning him.  “I want you to lean forward, with your forearms on your legs.”  He did as he was told, but apparently it wasn’t correct enough.  “Here, like this.” 

Unfamiliar with the hushed voice she had just used with the last sentence whilst she knelt beside him, the temptation to peek at her -to see what kind of expression matched that tender tone- proved too great for Minwoo to resist.  He shifted his head nearly imperceptibly down and to the right, just enough for his eyes to land on her.  Though a few wisps had escaped their entrapment during the day’s events, a ponytail swept her hair back from her face, conveniently granting a clear view.  A clear view of the brow that remained smooth with serenity.  A clear view of those high cheek bones highlighted by the setting sun.  Of the long, dark lashes that cast feathery shadows along those cheek bones.  Of the slender, button nose that led his dark irises to the soft pink flesh of her sealed lips that curled up in a small smile.  The steady beat of his heart steadily increased, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering erratically. 

Gentle, un-calloused hands rearranged his limp arms, bending his right elbow and resting the forearm on the middle of his right thigh, hand hanging off his knee.  Reaching across, her body so close he could faintly make out the scent of her honey-almond shampoo, she modified the limbs to imitate the right side, this time with a more knowledgeable Minwoo conforming easily.  Transferring to his hands and fingers, Kwangmi hummed thoughtfully, deciding between palm up or down, hands together or apart, her own hands working swiftly but delicately.

So entranced was he with this girl that he failed to notice her pull back, studying him, looking for any flaw that could ruin the effect of her photograph.  He didn’t fully comprehend the significance of being able to look straight into her eyes that sparkled a rich sepia hue in the light of the approaching dusk.  He had been caught staring, but he didn’t understand, in his hazy state of mind, the consequences that could follow.  However, perhaps that turned out to be for the best.  Kwangmi, for whatever reason, held the power to bring out a shier, more self-conscious character contrary to his standard loud, outgoing, childish personality.  Had she been working that spell on him at that moment, he would have turned away, blushing, avoiding any eye-contact.  But as it was, he remained powerless to turn away.

How long they lingered on that boulder, eyes locked on the other, neither knew for sure.  Time slowed to a near standstill, the busy schedule of the rest of society excluding these two teenagers.  The world snapped back into motion with the first touch of her slim fingers on his cheeks.  For one, single millisecond, Minwoo’s eyes widened, heart palpitating harshly against his ribs.

Is she really going to...?

“Silly boy,” she whispered, turning his head to look straight ahead once more, her lips curled up into that small smile.  “I told you not to move.”

Minwoo didn’t want her touch to withdraw.  He hated to see her recede when she was satisfied with the final result.  But of course, that was the inevitable –the little distance that situated itself where she used to be.  She hadn’t been holding his hands for the sake of touch alone.  She hadn’t cupped his face with the intention of melting his insides.  She didn’t trail her fingers along his arm now, leaving a blazing trail in their wake, on purpose as she pulled away.  She did so without an ulterior motive, save to capture a shot with her camera.  He knew that.  Yet, somehow, his sensitivity increased by her sheer innocence.  Never did it occur to her to ponder the possibility that she could be the reason for his heart to pound in such a way, that she made his head spin with that smile, or that her mesmerizing eyes could send pleasant shivers down his spine.  She had no idea.

So he forgave her.  Easily.  Because it was the most rational, most natural, thing in the world.  She was so easy to forgive.  Though she was unfair -with her smile, her touch, her twinkling eyes- and so easy to give in to, Minwoo would never hold her anything but blameless. 

They finished the photo shoot when the sun sank too low to provide enough light for the camera.  Kwangmi collected her supplies with Minwoo’s assistance, neatly placing each item in her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder.  Minwoo picked up his own digital, cradling it in his hand.  Together, they strolled to the park entrance, neither in a hurry.

Minwoo first started a conversation.  “How do you know if it’s too dark or too light outside to take pictures?”

“The human eye can see a lot better in low light than a camera can,” she informed, letting her hair out of its ponytail, freeing the auburn locks, sighing appreciatively as they fell onto her shoulders.  “I’ve been doing this for a long time, so I know when the sun is too low for there to be enough light.  I’ve seen it in my pictures before.”

“But can’t you change the aperture and shutter speed on the camera to control how much light can come in?” he asked, remembering something she had taught him.

She nodded.  “Yes, but there comes a point in which there just isn’t a whole lot of light to work with.  The picture comes out blurry because too much movement happens in the slower shutter speed in order to bring in enough light.  It’s not worth it in the end.”

“Cameras are so complicated,” Minwoo complained.  “There are too many variables.”

Kwangmi giggled.  “But it’s fun.  And picture taking is important.  It preserves memories when the brain has long forgotten them.”  A nostalgic, wistful expression assumed her face, as if she was reliving something in the past.  Minwoo waited patiently for her to come back down to present Earth.  It only lasted maybe a minute, and when she did, she smiled sheepishly at him.  “Sorry, I spaced out again.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it.  I’m used to it now.”

She pouted at him.  “Don’t say that,” she whined playfully.  “That means I do it often.”

Laughing, Minwoo ruffled her hair, Kwangmi losing her pout in favor of a smile.  She didn’t slap his hand away, or complain about him messing up her hair.  Why would she?  She liked it, liked this playful side of him that she’d been seeing more and more of.  And she never wanted him to hide that away from her. 

His hand fell away from the top of her head, dropping to his side, swinging in time to his gait.  But in the few seconds that it took for that arm to find a rhythm, his knuckles brushed against her fingers.  Kwangmi looked down at their hands, but his had already moved away from hers.  She glanced up at him.  If he was aware of that brief touch, he did not show it.  She decided to ignore it, but her fingers tingled pleasantly and her heart fluttered.

At the next intersection, Kwangmi pivoted on her heel to round the corner where the nearest bus stop was located.  Warm fingers gripped her elbow, pulling her back.  Stumbling, the girl bumped into Minwoo, the one whose hand held her in place with his hand.  Sepia irises exhibited her confusion, but before she could ask, he provided an explanation.

“Let’s walk.  There’s plenty of light left.  And this way we don’t have to pay for the bus fare.” 

His justification seemed reasonable enough, and Kwangmi couldn’t help but add another benefit to not taking the bus.  Of course, she wouldn’t tell him that.  She wouldn’t say that this way they could spend more time together.  She was still uncertain of his feelings and she didn’t want to push too hard.  His attraction to her was obvious enough, but there is a big difference between attraction and liking someone.

Kwangmi nodded, correcting her path to walk home.  Though the walk was long, neither minded.  Along the way, Kwangmi got turned around multiple times, not knowing where she was and where to go, but Minwoo always helped her out, finding a familiar route.  They talked.  They laughed.  They teased.  What Kwangmi liked best was the steady flow of conversation, the absence of awkward silence.  Somehow, they easily found something to discuss.  And even though the trek back to her house was extensive, even though taking the bus would have been much more convenient, a lot less time consuming, Kwangmi deflated in disappointment when they reached the front of her home.  She wanted to spend more time with this boy that she had already spent hours with.  This interesting, amusing, beautiful boy.  And even though she didn’t want to.  Even though she didn’t want to turn to him, departure painted across her face like a cool-pallet canvas portrait.  Even though she didn’t want to bid goodbye, signaling an end to the evening.  Even though she didn’t want to, she did anyway.

At least he looked the same way she felt, regret obvious in the unhappy sigh he blew out through perfect pink lips.  He spoke first.  “Thanks for coming.  I had a lot of fun and I learned a lot.”  He smiled then, as if an idea sparked in that brain at that moment.  “Maybe next time I can teach you something.”

Cocking her head, she asked in curiosity, “Teach me what?”

“You’re pretty good at basketball,” he admitted, “I saw that much when we played.  But you hardly ever tried making shots.  You just stole the ball and then passed it to someone else.  Can it be that you can’t shoot well?”  His smile turned into a playful grin.

Kwangmi shrugged indifferently.  “The basket is always too high up –I can’t seem to throw high enough, or aim right.  But I’m really good at getting the ball, so that’s what I do.”

“Want to learn to shoot better?” he proposed.

She eyed him skeptically.  “You really think you can teach me how to shoot?”

“Yeah, but you have to put effort into it,” Minwoo pumped his fist for emphasis.  “You can’t always be tricky.”

Want to bet on that? she thought, then spoke aloud.  “Okay, we’ll see if you can teach me.”

Minwoo beamed.  “Does Friday work for you?”

She thought about that, flipping through her schedule in her head, desperately trying to remember.  “I don’t think I have anything going on.  What time?”

“1:00?”

Her head bobbed once, “Yep, I’ll see you then.”

“Perfect!” Minwoo didn’t think the night could go better, but he was surprised, as he always was with this girl.

Thin arms wrapped around his middle, palms flat against his back.  In shock, Minwoo looked down at the girl who pressed her cheek against his chest.  His own arms stuck out awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.  He soon found direction.

The head of auburn locks tilted back, that open face staring back at him.  Her arms tightened, as if nervously.  But this was Kwangmi.  She never got nervous.  She was always confident in everything she did.  “Aren’t you going to hug me back?”

With the invitation now open, his hands wrapped around her, drawing her closer to his body.  Her cheek returned to its previous place, resting comfortably against his firm chest.  Not a breath of space distanced them, but Minwoo craved more.  Right hand still holding her slender waist, his left experimentally glided upwards, not once detaching itself from her, until he reached her disarrayed tresses.  Minwoo her hair, relishing how the silky strands slipped through his fingers.  Laying his cheek atop her hair lightly, her scent mingled in his nose.  A pleasant fusion of honey-almond and vanilla, an intoxicating blend threatening his waning soberness.

The door swung open violently, artificial light spilling onto the front step.  A dark figure, feet planted firmly, arms crossed, glared at the two teens.  He –the most definitely male figure- didn’t even give them a chance to pull away.  He yanked Kwangmi right out of Minwoo’s embrace, leaving the latter feeling empty and cold.  Of course, the cold could have been the result of the fierce glower that drove icy daggers into Minwoo’s body.

“Who gave you the right to touch my little sister?” Kevin demanded furiously.

Flustered, Minwoo struggled to provide a response.  Defiantly, his tongue refused to work inside his mouth, to perform its duty, resulting in making him look like an even greater idiot.  “I-I’m s-s-sorry-”

“I don’t want to hear meaningless apologies!”  Kevin interrupted, hollering.  “I don’t want to see or hear about or even suspect that you even laid one, solitary finger on her!  Do you understand?”

“Oppa, stop it,” Kwangmi interjected before Minwoo could start to process Kevin’s livid words.  “You are being ridiculous.  It was just a hug.  There is no reason for you-”

Her older brother twisted his head to glare at her, still clutching her arm, as if he feared she would run away.  “I don’t want to hear anything from you.  Go to your room and don’t even think about coming out until morning.  You are grounded.”

Kwangmi twisted away, meeting his fury unflinchingly.  “I’m sixteen now, Kevin.  You can’t order me around like you used to.”  She stopped him when he opened his mouth.  “No, you’re going to let me finish, because I have a voice, too. 

“I’m not the defenseless little girl that always ran into serious trouble anymore.  I’ve learned.  I’m more careful now.  And Minwoo is hardly a or murderer.  It was a simple hug, and I started it.  You are not being fair to him by blowing up at him like this.  If you should be mad at anyone, it’s me, but don’t you dare blame him for anything.  He’s done nothing wrong.”

Silence settled like a thick, heavy blanket.  Not once did she shout at him.  Not once did her voice rise.  She was firm, in control, unwavering toward her protective brother.  Kevin looked down at his sister, the rage slipping away with her words, replaced with exhaustion, fear, and acceptance.  The older male closed his eyes, blowing out a long, deep breath slowly.

“I know,” he whispered, eyes still shut.  “I know, but I can’t lose you, Kwangmi.  You didn’t call, even when I phoned you and left so many messages.  I had no idea when you’d be home.  The later it got, the more worried I was.  But I knew you were taking pictures, so you wouldn’t think about it.”  His eyes opened then, transferring to Minwoo who shifted uncomfortably.  “Mianhae, I shouldn’t have been like that.  But you realize that she is my only baby sister, so any boy who touches her immediately becomes my enemy, right?”

Minwoo nodded vigorously, not trusting his tongue to function properly.

“That being said,” Kevin continued, “I know you are a good kid, so I hope we can be friends.”

“Yes, Kevin-ssi,” Minwo finally managed to gain control over that muscle in his mouth.  To be honest, he was trembling inside, quaking in insecurity.

Kwangmi took notice, attempting to get rid of her older brother so she could speak to Minwoo privately, to calm him.  “Oppa, can you go inside now?  So I can talk to Minwoo?”

Kevin tensed visibly.  “And give him a chance to kiss you?  No way!  You two can say goodbye with me here and we both go inside while he sets off on his merry way, arasso?”

Ears and cheeks burning at the word ‘kiss,’ Minwoo froze in place.  Kiss her?  He didn’t expect even a hug that night, let alone a kiss.  But, how would Kwangmi react if he did?

The thought lingering, he concentrated again on the girl that now stepped in front of him.  Those big, doe eyes sent his heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.  That sweet smile eliminating all thoughts unrelated to her.  Surreptitiously, her body hiding her actions from the probing eyes of her brother, she took his hand, adding pressure to his fingers.

“Thanks for today, Minwoo.  You really helped me out.”  She stepped back, letting his hand slip from hers.  Standing in the doorway, she wiggled her fingers in his direction.  “Bye Minwoo.  I’ll see you Friday!”

Door shutting quickly, cutting off his vision, Minwoo heard Kevin’s voice shouting.  Giggles punctuated his bellowed “Bwo!?” and thundering faded as the two ventured deeper into the house.

Unconsciously, Minwoo’s lips tugged upwards, indescribably satisfied with how this day turned out.  Spinning on his heel, he walked back to the street.  He searched for the nearest bus stop, the sun having finally set.  Hands shoved in his pockets, he sauntered down the sidewalk, a stupid grin stretched across his face.

The shadow didn’t bother following the boy now retreating from the house.  He was just an annoying fly in the way.  This average boy had somehow managed to distract his Kwangmi from her one, true love.  Yes, the phantom had seen everything that day.  How they smiled together.  How they laughed with each other.  This good-for-nothing had even taken up an interest in photography, playing on ignorance to get closer to his precious girl.  Their stalker had followed them all the way up to her front door.  Blistering coils settled as the result of searing fury and glacial jealousy intermixing.  Never could that puny boy be allowed to touch his Kwangmi again, let alone wrap his arms around her like that, as if he would never let go.  This would not do.  No, this definitely could not last.  Something needed to be done.