Like Snow On The Beach

"Hye-jin-ah."

Her husband's voice wrapped around her as comfortingly as the duvet tucked around her body.

Yet Hye-jin refused to open her eyes.

It's Sunday. I don't want to get up yet.

She squeezed her eyelids more tightly to ensure that they would remain shut and burrowed deeper into the pillow. She felt the mattress shift as he sat down.

"Hye-jin-ah."

Amusement tinged the syllables of her name now. It coaxed a betraying smile from her lips. Du-sik's tone suggested that he was eager to begin a day that she was not yet ready to greet. Hye-jin curled her fingers around the edge of the duvet and pulled it over her head. Then she slid further down the bed and curled into a ball of protest.

Du-sik's soft laughter beckoned to her despite the snug confines of the covers. She opened her eyes to the darkness and felt the heat of her own breath. Then Hye-jin kicked her feet as she emitted a high pitched complaint. Her husband laughed ever harder.

Hye-jin peeled the duvet away with a dramatic huff. Then her arms flopped down onto the bed.

"Why are you waking me up?"

But her pout ebbed at the sight of her husband. Du-sik was looking at her with such affection that his eyes were dancing. Blue plaid flannel peeked out from under a thick white fisherman's sweater. His brown hair was adorably tousled. And he was holding two steaming mugs in his hands. She wanted to wrap him all around her.

Du-sik lowered his head patiently awaiting her full attention. And then he smiled in that confounding way of his when he knew that he was going to win a debate.

"It's been snowing all night. It's supposed to stop in about an hour. I figured that you wouldn't want to completely miss the first snow."

Hye-jin sat up with a bolt.

"The first snow?"

Her hair slid over her shoulders as she leaned to peer out the window. Hye-jin blinked as her eyes adjusted to startling white in the early morning light. The familiar was rendered alien. Everything was cloaked in curving mounds of snow. It was as if a blanket had been laid over the shape of their home.

"Oh there is so much! I didn't know it could snow like that here!"

"I've never seen this much accumulation in Gongjin."

Du-sik offered her a mug of coffee. Hye-jin smiled as her fingers curled around the warmth. Her bare feet rubbed against each other under the covers as her husband leaned back on one hand.

"When I was eight, it snowed about half a foot. My grandfather made me a sled out of wood."

Du-sik narrowed his eyes as he pointed beyond the window's line of sight.

"I climbed the hill above town until my lungs felt like they were going to burst. Everyone else had their parents to help pull them up when they got tired or give a big push. But that was too much for grandfather by then so I made due on my own."

He smiled at a memory.

"His sled was still always the fastest to the bottom anyway."

Hye-jin took a sip of coffee and inched closer to him. Every memory that Du-sik shared with her was precious. These pieces of his past came more regularly now but she never took them for granted. Her hand reached across the space between them until she found his fingers. He turned to look at her as she passed her thumb along the back of his hand.