She did end up regretting that she didn’t make any efforts to replace the broken phone.

Now, she could only afford to wait for Jongdae to make his appearance, as they hadn’t set the time for their meeting, and she had no way of knowing if he meant for them to meet in the morning or later that evening. At least the lake could be counted as company of sorts, in its own silent, fluid presence.

She sighed as she balanced her sketchbook on her lap, chin propped lightly on one hand as she sat facing the lake. Light danced on the surface of the water, catching the ripples and the silver scales of the fishes. A wink here, bright all of a sudden and then dimming just as abruptly –and then suddenly, it had already leapt to the other side of lake, and the process repeated until the water looked like one giant glimmering crystal.

She twirled her pencil in slow, calculated circles, cocking her head as she tried to envision the likes of the water on paper, how to make the ripples radiate instead staying stagnant and how to capture the luminous darkness of its depths. She’d sketched water many times, sometimes to illustrate the images she’d seen in her dreams (they came in like a shock of cold water, waves and waves of colour and clarity) and sometimes to document the simple trivialities in life that people never bothered to look at (like water dripping from leaking pipes and arcing through the spout of a drinking fountain), but the lake was hard to sketch. She couldn’t seem to get capture its essence, the balance between light and shadow. She thought of its otherworldly counterpart that she had seen two nights before, and ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

“Keep on doing that and all your hair will fall off,” a playful voice said beside her.

Junhee jumped. She hadn’t realised that Jongdae had arrived –arrived, and sat there watching her wallow in her frustration.

He was wearing a simple outfit today, but admittedly, it did look more put-together than all his other endeavours the few days before: a hoodie underneath a stylish jacket, along with a pair of slim fitting jeans that emphasized the sharp lines of figure. He had his customary camera bag slung over his shoulders, now carefully balanced between parted legs and held in place with a steady hand as he sat on the bench next to her.

“Keep on popping out of the blue and I might just mistake you as a serial killer,” she griped.

Jongdae lips formed a slightly crooked smile, and he bent forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. “Why do you look so troubled? The whole point of a vacation is to relax.”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” she said with a resigned sigh, snapping the sketchbook closed. “I’m just frustrated because nothing I draw is turning out the way it’s supposed to be.”

His gaze shifted towards the sketchbook, burning with curiosity. “Can I see?”

She hugged it protectively to her chest. “I’m not comfortable with showing my unfinished work to someone else.”

His smile was gentle. “Then show me the finished ones.”

Reluctantly, she handed it to him, wary of the movement of his fingers as he flicked to the front page. There was something in the back that she didn’t want him to see. She didn’t know if he would come across it anyway; it was drawn at a random page, a few blank pages away from her sketch of the lake. She hoped he wouldn’t have the patience to flip through them.

Jongdae’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he flipped from page to page, pausing at every sketch she had finished and signed. He tipped it upwards to stare at her sketch of one of the city streets, the towering buildings and the worn sidewalks and the busy people, which she worked on for weeks to instil life in every limb, every movement. Then, he flipped to the college buildings, the random walkways that she had sketched out of boredom, the elevated view of the sidewalk from her dorm window, an easel behind a window from which showed the setting sun...

She slammed it shut before he got to the lake, and even worse, him, the one she had wanted to hide.

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t comment as she tugged the sketchbook out of his hands. “You’re very talented,” he said. “Those are very beautiful sketches.”

“Thanks, Jongdae,” she said with a small smile. “My best sketches come when I’m inspired.”

“Same goes with my pictures.” He lightly caressed the leather bag that contained half his life. “I take pictures of everything beautiful –pictures of things that I find beautiful. Some things are just golden you know? You’ll never know if you’ll ever see them again when you look away.”

She nodded absently. “The lake is proving to be my biggest challenge,” she admitted. “I can’t seem to get the movement right, its depth and clarity. I suppose it does make more sense to paint it but...” She sighed and propped her chin back onto her hand. “I can’t exactly lug my painting supplies here, can I? My bag barely has enough room as it is.”

Jongdae squinted his eyes, looking thoughtful. “I think I have a solution to that.”

“Which is?” she asked curiously.

He smiled secretively. “You’ll find out. But right now, adventure awaits.” He winked and tugged her up by the hands.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am serious.” He blinked innocently at her, but she could tell from the gleam in his eyes that he was enjoying her reaction.

“You cross the road barely glancing at the oncoming cars. How on earth am I supposed to trust you to navigate a motorcycle?”

“The same way you trust a dog to fetch a bone,” he said with an evil smile. “Now buckle up.”He tossed her a helmet. “We have quite a ride ahead of us.”

She reached up instinctively, catching it between steady hands that were much too dainty to be holding something as hard and heavy as this. This was going to look ridiculous on her. She glanced up to see that Jongdae already had his strapped.

Honestly, she thought it was unfair how someone could look so good in a helmet, of all things.

“Are you going to stand there staring at me all day or are we gonna get moving?” His voice sounded strange, echoing against the visor pulled over his eyes, but she could still detect the teasing note to it.

“Can’t we just walk?” she begged helplessly.

“It’s a long walk.”

“Taxi, then.”

He cocked his head and squinted at her. “I thought you said you’re getting low on funds. This is fairly economic –for you, at least, since I’ll be the one paying for gas, and we can practically go anywhere. Well,” he shrugged, “anywhere in town, anyway, ’cause I don’t think it’s within my capacity to send you back to Seoul.”

She sighed, eyeing Jongdae’s motorbike warily. It was a Suzuki, painted in a coat of ice blue that seemed mould perfectly around the lines and contours, the metallic sheen glinting like polished silver. It was absolutely stunning in design, with large, thick wheels for balance and metal folded and pressed for reducing air resistance –a bike built for speed. She swallowed the lump in . She had no inkling as to how the easygoing Jongdae was when on road.

He seemed to catch the look on her face. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be safe in my hands.”

She turned to him with a distrusting frown.

“I promise!” he said, throwing his hands up.

Slowly (reluctantly), she tugged on the helmet. It felt strange around her head, made it too heavy, padded interior muffling the sounds. She knew Jongdae couldn’t see her frown underneath the layers of metal and cotton pads, but she knew he was looking to spite her by ignoring her protests and reaching out to tug her arm. He gestured a gloved hand towards the pillion seat behind him.

Thank goodness I wore jeans, she thought with internal relief, and slowly began positioning her legs into a comfortable position. She arranged her bag carefully in front of her, securing it with an arm.

“I’m ready,” she said reluctantly, shouting a little so he could hear her.

“Alright!” he yelled back at her, already gearing the bike up. “And by the way, you might want to hold on!”

She shrieked when he took off, instinctively wrapping an arm around his waist while pressing her bag with her sketchbook and supplies to her chest with the other. The feel of the wind slapping against her body was jarring, enough to make her close her eyes despite having a helmet to protect her head. She felt Jondae’s chest vibrate underneath her arm.

Damn it, he was laughing at her.

“We’re here!” he called to her, about half an hour later.

The bike slowed, and Junhee’s thighs bumped against the sides as they bumbled through the rough terrain. Jongdae had gone off road some ten minutes back, and Junhee had muffled a tired groan as the wheels left the smooth incline of tarred roads and balanced over plain, unpaved earth. The bumps on the roads sent shockwaves jarring up her spine, the rocks spurting from the wheels bumping lightly against her shoes as Jongdae slowly guided the bike down a makeshift trail.

He stopped the bike, and she couldn’t jump down fast enough.

“That,” she remarked emphasizing the word with extreme disdain, “is not ‘not fast’.”

“I can’t exactly crawl at 20 kilometres per hour, now can I?” he asked, tugging his helmet off. His hair fell in impossibly perfect coordination over his eyes, complimenting the smirk that tugged the edges of his mouth.

“You almost sent me into cardiac arrest!”

“But you’re still alive, aren’t you?” he offered cheerfully, storing his helmet away.

She whimpered and leaned heavily against the bike, legs still wobbly like jelly. She tried to take in deep breaths, focusing on the dried earth beneath her feet, cradling her precious bag to her chest. She saw a pair of sneakers come into vision, and the next minute someone had lifted her head and she was staring at a pair of liquid dark eyes with dancing specks of gold. Jongdae’s hands were braced at the sides of her helmet, and gently, he tugged it out. Relief washed through her as her senses returned.

 “I shouldn’t have trusted you,” she said, trying to swallow away the dryness of .

“Well, you’ve come this far, haven’t you?” He adjusted the strap of his leather bag on his shoulder. She still couldn’t fathom how he managed to keep it with him throughout the entire ride; unlike her, he didn’t have a free hand to keep it in place.

“Where is here anyway?” She gazed around, taking in the surrounding trees, the unpaved trail, and the grass sprouting around what appeared to be a small cottage. The walls were stained yellow, but it looked clean and well managed. There were patches of flowers underneath the windows, framing dark sills and creeping up to reach into the clear glass panes. 

“My friend’s place,” he replied, flipping the flap of his bag closed after doing a quick check on his camera.

She glanced at him with a look of surprise (why would he want to introduce her to his friends?) but it was left unseen as Jongdae started down the path that led to the cottage. For a moment, she hesitated, standing awkwardly next to the motorbike as she contemplated whether or not to follow. But Jongdae brought her here, so surely he was expecting her to stay with him. With a resigned sigh and a shake of her head, she dashed down the little path to catch up with him.

She nearly collided with Jongdae when he suddenly stopped, hand raised and voice projecting throughout the woods as he called a name –a boy’s name. She peered around his shoulder, just in time to catch the gaze of a twenty-something year old man staring curiously at her. He shifted his eyes towards Jongdae when he realised that he was caught, but he managed to put on an impressive facade of not seeing her as he made their way towards them.

“Jongdae-yah, what’s up?” he said, greeting him warmly with a smile and a hug. He had large eyes, slanting upwards underneath a pair of thick brows and messy chestnut bangs. His skin was smooth, his smile impish, and his whole being insinuated a life of hard work and labour.

“Fine,” Jongdae replied, carefully manoeuvring the camera away to avoid it from being crushed in the hug. “I brought a friend over. Her name’s Baek Junhee. Junhee,” he finally turned to her and gestured at the young man, “this is Kim Minseok. His family manages a small equestrian centre where everyone keeps their horses –well, everyone who can afford horses, anyway,” he added with a light laugh.

Whatever misgivings she might have had on Minseok disappeared when he finally turned to her with a welcoming smile and a proffered hand. “Hey, nice to meet you.” His hands were calloused; evidence to a life of grooming and managing horses. He cocked his head at her. “You’ve known Jongdae for long?”

She decided that it wouldn’t be such a good idea to mention that it was only the fourth day since they’d made each other’s acquaintance. A vague answer would probably be the best way to go: “Not really.”

“Then I should warn you beforehand that he’s a devil in disguise.”

The indignant look on Jongdae’s face was comical. “I’m getting to that conclusion,” she admitted, earning herself a smile from Minseok.

“So, Jongdae,” he began spinning around to gaze at his friend, hands woven together in a tight clasp, eyes searching. “Did Kris send you here to request for permission to hold another photoshoot?”

 “Nope. I’m taking her to see the horses.”

A look of surprise crossed his features. His brows were arched, his friendly expression faltering into one of disbelief, and then, upon seeing her slack-jawed expression, mild exasperation, which he directed at Jongdae.

Jongdae didn’t seem fazed by the plethora of different expressions being directed at him. “That won’t be a problem, right? You told me that your parents don’t mind visitors so long as they don’t spook the horses.”

“No.” Minseok looked resigned, if not slightly sympathetic of her fate. “They don’t mind. But Jongdae.” He leaned forwards to whisper something in Jongdae’s ear, which she caught anyway. “A little advice on girls: some of them don’t like horses very much.”

“Oh, she’ll love them,” the latter responded with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Minseok looked unconvinced, but complied regardless. “This way then.”

They started down the little path with Minseok leading the way. Junhee caught Jongdae’s sleeve before he could outpace her, tugging it down harshly down so that she could whisper into his ear. “He’s right, Jongdae. I’m not fond of horses.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen one in real life.”

She felt a little bit indignant at how easily he was able to peg the little details about her despite their short time of knowing each other.

“What gave you the idea that I’d want to?”

Despite the note of resentment in her tone, he didn’t look offended. The look on his face when he turned to her was that of mild amusement, and also something deeper, a strange fleeting expression that she could only describe as delight, as if he was finally able to divulge a lifelong secret to a person whom he knew would truly understand.

“Beauty,” was his only answer.

She frowned. “Meaning?”

Something twinkled in his eyes. “You’ll find out what I mean when we get there.”