The protector

China - Taiwanese Sandwich (M)

Beijing – day two (half an hour after "appetizer")

"Elf you're spoiling me!" He had repeated all the time on the day before. And "elf you're spoiling me" he was repeating during the breakfast to an In-ah who, wearing nothing but the white bathrobe, was cautiously covering his toast with a pink marmalade.

"Jeong Hyeok, deal with it. I'm so thrilled that I'll spoil you till Friday."

"Jinjja?"

In-ah's face turned serious for a while as she nodded him yes. Yes, I'm happy with you, and it wasn't necessarily something happy to say. 

Something didn't add up there. Optical white, and shining, and looking extremely modern. One of the walls was just glass, giving them a full sight of the city. She was in the bathroom – probably busy with all those ointments which had her smelling so good – when his eyes roved around the room. There was a big screen and furniture in neutral colours. It was different from the warm, welcoming, and a little classic style of her house. A little capitalist. It didn't speak In-ah.

And it wasn't just capitalist. That room was like perfect for two lovers, he would have said. Both the shower and the bathtub could home two people, the bed was big too, and the closet... and the elf had warned him about the room being soundproof. Did she know? Had she chosen it on purpose? That woman knew a lot, so much more than him that he couldn't really catch the extent of her knowledge when it was matter of those kinds of things.

Still, at the same time, there were the words his father had told him about In-ah being a fox. About In-ah perfectly knowing that they needed to stay away from the city for a while. The doubt he had drilled into him, and that Jeong Hyeok had fought to forget, had popped out in all its bluntness on the day before, when they had arrived in front of the room and In-ah had stopped. Her hand letting the case on the moquette floor, her lips forming a mute 'shhh,' she had taken his hand and the digit on his palm had slowly composed a sequence of letters.

BUGS.

There weren't. After a meticulous check of the room, they hadn't found bugs. But once on the streets, it had taken a few meters before the two saw they were being followed.

"Don't worry" In-ah had told him. "If there weren't bugs, it means that they aren't here for me yet for you. Your family is too important, someone wants to know what kind of relationship we exactly have."

Sometimes he felt he wanted to know it too.

"So?"

"Let's act normally. Maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe you should, I don't know, hug my shoulder from time to time and other stuff. Like the couples."

"Like the couples?" The air had suddenly become electric.

"Like the couples." Her hesitating voice faded into a meek whisper.

"Mhm. I see. Because of safety."

"Because of safety."

All that collection of data was confusing him.

When In-ah took a decision, there were always – and at least – two sides of the story, and most of the time one of them was obscure to him. It was as if, whatever she did or said, she always had an agenda.