Enigma Stigma (ONC 2023 Entry)

15.

"You don't seem to follow directions very well."

Constance huffed a sigh as she looked over at Beom who was currently up a ladder in her living room. One of her bulbs had burnt out, but instead of being allowed to change it, Beom insisted that he would. Ever since she had come back home to her apartment after being discharged from the hospital, Beom decided that he would take on the role of her caretaker. He was making her listen strictly to the doctor's instructions, insistent that she wasn't going to die on his watch. Constance sat on her couch as she watched Beom climb up the ladder; his fingers slowly but steadily untwisting the burnt-out bulb from its base. He climbed back down the ladder to put it down on the coffee table before grabbing the new bulb and making his way back up.

"It's just changing a light bulb. It's not like that'll kill me," complained Constance.

"I wouldn't say that with your track record," remarked Beom chuckling as Constance let out a jokingly offended scoff.

"That's rude!"

"Doesn't mean it's not true," said Beom as he finished installing the new bulb. He moved to climb back down the ladder, turning to look at her. "Now is there anything else broken that needs to be fixed around here?"

Constance was sure that there was if she looked hard enough, but she didn't want to at that point in time. All she wanted to do was try to re-establish the relationship she had with Beom to start with. She moved out a hand to gently pat the spot on the couch next to her.

"Me," she replied to his question. "Come sit, won't you?"

Beom nodded as he moved to sit beside her without another word. Constance moved to put her hands back in her lap as she tried to think about what to say. Even though Beom had apologized, their relationship was currently like walking on eggshells. Constance felt like it was destined to break apart again if even the tiniest wave rocked up against it.

"What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon after helping little ol' me?" Constance asked.

Beom smirked, rolling his eyes as he replied, "I'll probably go help out my mother at the bakery and then practice my music some more."

"You definitely have a gift for music," said Constance as she looked at Beom. "That selection you played for me that night I cooked you burgers...it was lovely."

Beom smiled as he looked over at her. The two of them locked eyes for a moment, charging the air between them with a more intense energy than before.

"Well - since I shared my music with you - that means you have to share your writing with me some time," said Beom to Constance's surprise. "After all, I want to read the story that is worth you risking your life for."

Constance always had a hard time with sharing her writing with anyone because it was something that she found deeply personal. It was an up close and personal look at someone's heart that they had dared to put into words. Sharing it with Beom was something that scared her, but he had done it when he had shared his music that night. It was only fair if she returned the favor.

"You can trust me," he said; words that she never thought he'd speak but that she knew were true. "I promise I won't make fun of it."

Constance blushed at Beom's words, moving to grab the notebook out of the messenger bag that sat glued by her side. Beom's eyes widened with shock when she moved to place the notebook on his lap. It was obvious that he thought she wasn't going to hand her notebook over to him to look at.

"It's not very good," she warned as Beom moved to slowly open the notebook as if he'd been given a piece of her heart. "I'm struggling with finding the right thing to write and the right words."

"You struggling to find the right words?" asked Beom in surprise. "That doesn't seem possible. If anything, you have too many words."

Constance didn't say anything as she lapsed into silence, watching Beom gingerly flip through the pages as he read what she had written. After a few minutes had passed, Beom closed the notebook just as gently as he had opened it before handing it back over to her.

"It's bad, isn't it?" asked Constance when Beom continued to say nothing.

"No. It's far from it. It's amazing. You have quite a way with words. I don't know why you are putting yourself down."

"I just have a hard time being confident about my writing because I feel like it's not relatable enough."

"If that's really how you feel, maybe you should try writing our story," said Beom. "Write what you know. Sometimes that helps the words to come easier."

Constance looked down at her notebook as it rested in her lap again.

"Write our story, huh? Should I call it 'Hopeless and the Enigma'?"

She could hear him chuckle before a hand dusted itself gently underneath her chin. Constance felt her breath hitch in her throat as he used the hand to direct her head to face him. Soon their eyes were locked upon each other's again.

"I don't think that's the best title," said Beom. "Not anymore."

"Then what should it be called?" asked Constance.

"I'm not sure, but I know you'll come up with the perfect title in time," said Beom. "I know you. The right words will come to you at the right time."

Constance let a small smile cross her lips, but that small smile soon disappeared as Beom leaned forward to press his lips gently against hers. Constance was shocked by the action at first, stupidly thinking that his lips over hers was some sort of mistake. However - when she saw that it wasn't some sort of mistake and Beom was about to draw back from the kiss with an apology - Constance moved a hand to grab the collar of his jacket to keep him close. She kissed him gently in return; both of their eyes slipping shut as they allowed themselves to disappear within the moment.