Credits: Geneive

|06| Vodka

“Do you want to have with me? Heee~”
-Kim SooJin

WHAT KIM SOOJIN WAS THINKING WHILE BEING KISSED BY Y CREATURE

Should I move my lips? They do that in the movies, don’t they?

Should I move my head? Should I open my eyes now?

But he said to stay still. Why do I have to stay still? Why is he the only one that can move?

What should I do with my hands? Should I clap like Aunt Mina?

This moist, squishy thing, is it his lips? How does he take care of his lips?

What should I do with my tongue? Sh1t! What did Haneul teach before? Should I put it out?

Crap! I’m really kissing a guy now, aren’t I? Hmm.. this kinda feels good.

I wonder how much the ring is worth. Will I get to keep it?

Hmm.. he tastes like Cappuccino. Will it be okay if I take a bite of his lips?

Can people die from kissing? Can we get suffocated from kissing?

Do I have to do this every day?

****************************************

Haneul once said to me that you’ll always remember your first kiss. “Even on your death bed, you’ll still remember your first kiss,” she had said, always in her exaggerated manner. So does this mean that I’m never going to forget about this kiss with y creature?

Crap!

This cannot happen. I need to show him who’s the boss of my lips. What right does he have to suddenly plant a kiss on my precious lips? Doesn’t he know how prized Kim SooJin’s lips are? Does he have no manners? Where are his ball.s anyway, not having the guts to even defy his hyper aunt? It’s not like she’s going to kill him if he says no. The most she would do is clap and we all know that a clap won’t kill you.

“Honey?” suddenly Mr. Kwon’s voice broke my train of thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“You can open your eyes now. The kiss has long stopped,” he said, emphasizing on the word 'long', like it had been hours since he had stopped kissing me.

“Err.. Right.”

Well, that was embarrassing.
I opened my eyes to find Mr. Kwon looking at me with a smug smile on his face. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I bet they were like ripe tomatoes by then.
I turned to look at Aunt Mina and she was grinning widely at both of us.

My heart was behaving strangely. It was beating so fast in an unknown rhythm. It felt weird. I took a deep breath, but it just wouldn’t slow down. My hands were shaking and my throat felt dry. My breaths were shallow and my body felt warm all over.

I didn’t know that kissing would do all these sort of things to a person. Or is it just to me? Haneul didn’t say anything about this when she taught me about kissing. I stole a glance at Mr. Kwon; he was behaving normally. So maybe it was just me. 

Crap! 
Am I getting a heart attack?
Why do I feel so lightheaded?

I quickly gulped down my coffee.
I could feel Aunt Mina watching us, a wide grin still plastered on her pretty face.
I looked up to catch her staring.

“Aww... how romantic,” she gushed, her eyes practically gleamed, “This is just like a movie.”

I rolled my eyes.
Everything is so romantic for her. Even if Mr. Kwon suddenly decided to holler some incoherent words like “Yodeliloulooooo~!!!” to my ears, I bet she’d even find that romantic.

“Did you get that on camera?” he asked Aunt Mina. Aunt Mina nodded eagerly. “Don’t forget to show that to Haraboji,” he said, taking a huge sip of his Cappuccino.

So that was why he agreed to the kissing. He wanted to rub it in to his grandfather’s face. He was really going all out with this lie wasn’t he? I think I really needed to talk to him about this because I think that the lie had gotten really worst. If he was Pinocchio, his nose would have reached America by then. I mean, how am I supposed to feign being pregnant? Do I really have to wear a pillow under my clothes the whole time? What if one day I had forgotten to wear the pillow? Should I just say “Oops.. I had a miscarriage yesterday?”

Totally didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

“Omo, look at the time!” Aunt Mina suddenly exclaimed, looking at her sparkling crystal watch, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then. I’ve an appointment with Mrs. Kang.” 

She blew air kisses at us and waved before heading out of the coffee shop.

So now, we were left alone. Just the two of us, in a fairly empty coffee shop: A.W.K.W.A.R.D.

I stole a glance his way.
Mr. Kwon fidgeted in his seat and cleared his throat, taking the cup close to his lips.

His lips.

My eyes were automatically focused on his lips. 
Were they the ones that have my lips just now? 
I bit my own lips, fighting hard the urge to touch his lips.

“Miss Kim?” he said, not looking at me while he put down his cup on the table, “I thought I told you to stop staring while I’m eating.”

I felt blood rushing to my cheeks. He noticed that I was staring, how embarrassing!
I tried to act nonchalant. “You were drinking, not eating. You didn’t tell me not to stare while you’re drinking now, did you?”

I gave a mental applaud to myself.

A smug smile appeared on his face as he cocked his face to say, “So you’ve just admitted that you were staring.”

Sh1t!

“I didn’t!” I denied vehemently, “I was just admiring the picture on the wall. I think it’s so gorgeous. Very artistic indeed.”

I caught a glimpse of a picture hung on the wall when I walked to the table just now. Seeing that this is a coffee shop, it must be an artistic picture. Plus, it was conveniently located right across Mr. Kwon so saying that I was admiring the picture was pure genius, if I may say so myself.

“Really?” Mr. Kwon suddenly looked very interested in the matter, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he shuffled in his seat to face me, “You mean the picture of the President of South Korea there?” he raised his eyebrows, “Care to explain what is so artistic about that picture?”

F.CKKKKKKK!!!

My eyes widened as I looked at the picture. True enough, it was the picture of the President, Lee Myung-bak, posing in his boring president pose. You know, the ‘dressed in suit and stare straight ahead with a grim face’ pose. The ‘I’m President, damn it!’ pose as what I had always called it.

Now, what was so artistic and gorgeous about that?
I felt the left side of my mouth twitching.

Mr. Kwon was mocking me with his bright smile, I knew he was! If I couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse of why I thought that the boring picture was artistic, I might just go jump off a building.

“Yes, Miss Kim?” Mr. Kwon said with a sly smile. 

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. I gave a nervous laugh and took a quick sip of my coffee. All of a sudden, the coffee tasted extra bitter. I grimaced as I put the cup back down on its plate. Mr. Kwon was still staring at me with his mocking smile.

“It’s, um, artistic, because, um, don’t you see the way he poses? Totally artistic,” I said, clutching my hands together, “and the lightings just make the picture looks more mysterious and creates a certain friendly, err, ambience to the President.”

I figured, to bullsh1t people convincingly, you need to use big words.

Mr. Kwon’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re saying that is artistic?” he asked. He imitated the pose, complete with the serious face. “And what did you say? A friendly ambience to the President??? You call that friendly?”

I bit my lips. Even I realize how stupid that was.
But I didn’t care; I would never admit to him that I was indeed staring at him.
I’d bring the secret to grave if possible. I need to keep my pride.

“So you really like that picture, huh?” Mr. Kwon asked. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes. He put up his hand and the waiter came running by his side.

“Yes, sir?” the waiter asked.

“My friend here loves that picture that you hang on the wall there,” he nodded his chin towards the direction of the picture, “So she’s just wondering whether you can give that picture to her.”

I choked on my saliva, feeling my cheeks getting warm.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” the waiter’s eyes looked like they were to pop out. He looked back to check. “Y-y-you want the picture of the President?” he said in disbelief, frowning in confusion.

“No, not me. I don’t have any fascination with the picture but this girl here,” Mr. Kwon pouted his mouth towards my direction, “she really wants the picture to stare at home, if that’s possible. Can you just please give it to her? I’m tired of listening to her whining of how much she’d die to have that picture hung on the wall of her bedroom.”

He’s lying! 
I didn’t say that, did I?
Did those words ever come out of my mouth?!!
Did I say that I’d die if I didn’t have the picture?!!
I sounded like a crazy President fangirl!

I squinted my eyes at Mr. Kwon but he pretended not to notice.

The waiter’s head turned to look at me, blinking rapidly. I avoided his gaze by looking out of the window. “I’ll see what I can do, miss,” he said, leaving us to talk to his manager.

The request stirred quite a commotion in the coffee shop among the workers. Some workers were seen looking at me, whispering among themselves. I bet they were wondering why in the world I would want the picture of the President hung on my bedroom wall. I bet they were thinking that I must be a lonely and desperate woman who raised 100 cats and had five imaginary friends to keep me company.

I hid my face in my hands. So much for trying to keep my pride! 
I think my p