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10

"So, where are we doing this?" I asked as we stepped into Chaeyoung's apartment.

"My room," she said, producing a key. This was a first – I'd never been in her room before.

The door opened to a whirlwind of color.  Dark paint splashed the walls, a stark contrast to the bare room. No bed, just a couch shoved in the corner. Small tables overflowed with paint buckets, brushes, and palette knives.  A mountain of canvases stacked on a shelf, and a large, unrecognizable painting dominated the center of the room.

"Is this what you're working on?" I asked, gesturing at the canvas.

"Hmm? Yeah," she said, scratching the back of her neck.

"So, how do we start, ChaengCasso?" I teased, using the nickname I'd given her.

She laughed, but her playful mood quickly faded as she led me to the couch.  "Sit here."

"Chaeyoung, is this where you sleep?" I asked, settling onto the worn cushions.

"Um, yeah…mostly.  I don't really sleep here," she said, gathering palette knives and brushes.

I nodded, watching her move. She went to her closet and pulled out a white sheet.  Turning to me, she held it out.  Confused, I raised an eyebrow. "What's this for?"

"Strip," she said, nonchalantly.

My eyes widened. "W-what?"

"Strip, then wrap this around yourself," she clarified, gently pushing the cloth towards me.  "Put your clothes in that basket," she added, pointing to a woven basket near the closet.  "I'll leave you to change."

She left, giving me space.  I quickly stripped and wrapped the sheet around myself like a towel.

"Done!" I called out.

Chaeyoung entered, a laugh escaping her lips. "Unnie, you look like you're about to take a bath."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "I don't know how to do this," I admitted.

"Okay," she said, stepping closer, searching for the end of the sheet.  My body jolted with every accidental brush of her skin against mine.

"Relax," she murmured, her voice husky. "I'm not going to bite," she added with a smirk.

She expertly draped the sheet, her touch surprisingly gentle.  "Sit," she instructed.  "Cross your legs…put your arms here…lean down a bit."

I won't lie, her professionalism was…attractive.  Her gaze was focused, intent, as she arranged the sheet, highlighting my form.  Even an amateur like me could see she was doing a great job.  But my heart pounded with every near touch.

"Done," she smiled, stepping back.  Only then did I realize I'd been holding my breath.  The sheet was now draped artfully, covering my chest and lower abdomen.

"Okay, we'll start. Just chill for an hour," she said, settling in front of her canvas, ready to work.

I watched her paint, mesmerized by her concentration.  But every time her gaze drifted to my body, a strange tingle ran through me.

An hour later, she clapped her hands, snapping me out of my trance.

"O-oh, you're done?" I said, sitting up too quickly, clutching the sheet to my chest.  Big mistake. My leg cramped. "Ow!"

"Slowly," she said, rushing to my side, kneeling and gently massaging my numb leg.

I winced, but found myself mesmerized by her kneeling figure, her hands working on my leg.  Oh my god.

"Does this feel better?" she asked.

I could only nod, biting my lip.

"Seems like it," she smiled, continuing to massage my leg.

(Later):

"I'll make dinner. What do you want?" I asked, tying on an apron.

"Anything," she said, dropping her jacket and bag on the couch.

"You're leaving?" I asked, pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Yeah.  I'm staying with her again tonight," she said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

I nodded, starting to chop vegetables.  I was surprised when Chaeyoung pulled up a chair and sat across from me, her chin resting on her hand, watching my every move.

I laughed, shaking my head.  "You look like a kid watching her mom cook, Chaeng," I said, keeping my eyes on my work.

"Well, you're a pretty nice mom to watch," she joked.

I looked up. "Do I look that old?"

She shook her head.  "No, Unnie.  What I mean is…you'd make a wise mother. I can't help but stare."

Holy…

I smiled, shaking my head, and turned back to the stove.  But then I remembered something – Chaeyoung’s mother slapping her.  I wanted to ask, but the fear of pushing her away held me back.

(Third Person POV):

Chaeyoung, meanwhile, felt a pang of sadness. Her mother used to be so sweet and caring.  Not anymore.

After dinner, Chaeyoung said goodbye to Mina.

"I found a model for my art…and for my loneliness," she mumbled to herself, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she got into her car.