It's Way Too Late To Stay Locked Up Inside Ourselves

Saturday

Se-ri's fingers trembled as she undid the next button of his shirt.

And then the next one.

She yearned to be free of this constraint -- to touch him, to press her mouth against his skin. Jeong-hyeok's fingers slid along her face and then tangled in her hair impatiently. Se-ri dared not look up as she desperately tried to concentrate.

Tentatively, she slid her hands down either side of the open fabric until they reached the final button. It was all that remained and desire rang throughout her body like a klaxon.

She grasped it and tried to slide the button backwards through the hole. But her fingers felt clumsy and tingled as if she couldn't quite hold on. She tugged again but it refused to budge. Se-ri gritted her teeth and pushed harder and harder and harder.....

Then Se-ri opened her eyes to the white expanse of the ceiling above her.

Are you kidding me. She turned over into her pillow and muffled a scream.

The clock on her nightstand read 9:03 am. I have two hours before they come. Flopping on her back, Se-ri stretched and nestled deeper under the covers. The sun was streaming through the window. Her apartment was about to be filled by people with whom she enjoyed just being. And she had an entire weekend to spend with him.

Se-ri closed her eyes and recalled last night. Men had said much more to her and it had meant far less. But Ri Jeong-hyeok's reserve and consideration were the two things of which she was the most certain. And so his confession felt momentous. But why didn't I do anything about it? Se-ri raked her hands through her hair as the question that had left her wired all night smacked her in the face once again. Because they were just words.

Words had proven an unreliable foundation. Her mother had promised her that she would come back. She hadn't. Her brothers said that they would try harder. They didn't. Her father swore that he didn't do the things of which he was accused. He had. Indeed, Se-ri had spent her life believing in the words of those who were supposed to love her. It always led to disappointment.

So while Jeong-hyeok has acknowledged that there was something between them, he had waited until she had nearly left the room to say anything. And he had remained rooted to the spot with his back to her. Life had taught Se-ri the hard lesson that she could not leap based on words alone.

But it's something. That their short time together had also left an indelible mark on him made this all feel less like a fever dream and more like perhaps the beginning of something. The start of what exactly? The son of Ri Chung-ryeol and the daughter of Yoon Jeung-pyeong together? Se-ri threw her arms over her face and kicked off the covers, angry with herself. If only she could press pause on that voice in her head -- the one that always anticipated the next blow.

She stood up, determined. The only plan for today was to avoid a criminal wanted by the police and spend time in the company of good men. Let that be enough for today, Yoon Se-ri. Eager to begin, she raced to the shower. When she had dressed in the closest approximation to weekend lounge wear that designer labels could accommodate, Se-ri stuck her head out in the hallway and listened. It felt strange to be on pins and needles inside her own apartment.

Then she heard Ri Jeong-hyeok's voice from the dining room. Hushed words like "perimeter," and "interrogation," and "monitoring" grounded her nervous energy in the reason why he was here. This isn't a date. She took a deep breath and prepared to face whatever the day would bring.

Se-ri walked as quietly as possible to the kitchen. On the center island was a latte from a local coffee shop and an energy drink. There was a note beside them: " On the morning briefing call. The boys are confirmed for 11 am - Ri Jeong-hyeok." Se-ri picked up the note and traced his handwriting with the tips of her fingers. It was perfectly him -- formal and beautiful. She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket.