naked || seoyoungho

.december 25, '13

I'm surprised to see Johnny outside my door at 9:30 pm on Christmas, holding a half-eaten pie and a paper plate piled with ham, potato, and gravy.

"Johnny! What are you doing here?"

Aside from exchanging pleasantries in the hallway, Johnny and I didn't hang out. He always offered to help with my groceries or invited me for a cup of tea, which I hadn't accepted. He was just my neighbor. My giant, cute neighbor.

Seriously, I didn't know shoulders could be so broad.

He holds up the food, as though that were an answer. "I, uh, noticed no one came here for the holiday. So I thought maybe you'd like some evening company?"

I cross my arms, suddenly aware that I've donned reindeer slippers and red fleece pants and an ugly Christmas sweater. While Johnny is looking like a five-course meal, even if his hair is a little messy.

"I'm sorry." He grimaces. "It's kinda weird that I was watching, huh? I was just — well, I knew no one would visit me today and I just didn't want that for you. But, you know, that happened. So I came over. I realize now that I'm just being a major creep, so I'll just — I'll leave. Merry Christmas, Sola."

Johnny turns, and suddenly the thought of him wearing a Santa hat consumes me. That would be so cute.

I latch onto his arm to stop his retreat and encourage him to look at me again. I cast him a smile. "No, no, this is really sweet of you. Why don't you come in."

We sit at the bar in my kitchen. The conversation is light and jovial as we eat pie and potatoes, ham and gravy, popcorn and instant ramen. Johnny's funny and kindhearted, and I notice that he shines brighter than any of my Christmas lights.

When I pull out the alcohol and the games, we settle on the floor. Twenty minutes later, Johnny's wearing a Santa hat and I'm wearing elf ears.

"You don't have to answer." His eyes are glistening, and he reminds me of a puppy. "But why isn't your family here for Christmas?"

"It costs money to travel." I sip my alcohol. My eyes are probably glistening too, but I doubt I resemble a puppy. More like a drunk girl with a bad haircut who's wearing too much makeup. "I couldn't get a ticket to head out to them in Jeju-do, and they couldn't afford to send everyone here."

He rests his ear against his shoulder, his full attention on me. "Why'd you move to Seoul?"

"College." I shrug, staring into my glass. "And then I figured I'd just get a job here." My eyes catch his. "What about you? Why are you in Seoul?"

He sighs and looks at the ceiling. "To make a name for myself. To find and pursue the things I love. To work hard and enjoy every minute of it."

"You're a poet." I drown the rest of my drink. I force myself up on wobbly legs and aim for the couch. "So — and you don't have to answer — but why are you alone for the holidays?"

Johnny follows me and settles beside me on the couch, drink in hand. With a deep breath, he sinks into the cushions. "The flights between Seoul and Chicago are a bit expensive."

I choke on my spit — attractive. "Chicago? Like, America?"

He shoots me a lopsided smile. "Exactly America."

I whistle. "And you came all the way here to Seoul."

"To follow a dream that I don't even have yet." He toasts the air.

"What an exciting adventure, to discover your dreams."

"You think?"

I nod. "I'm also drunk."

"Amen." And he gulps down the rest of his alcohol.

It's nearing 2 am now, and I'm dozing on my couch. With my cute neighbor Johnny beside me.

Out of nowhere, he bursts, "Youngho."

I jump. "Holy shit, Johnny. Wait, what?"

In the twinkling of the Christmas lights, he smiles at me. "Seo Youngho. That's my real name."

My eyes widen, and I want so much to be like in those movies where my eyes reflect the lights and make me ten times more beautiful. But I know I just look drunk and sleepy and I'm only wearing one reindeer slipper.

Where'd the other one go?

"I thought only friends knew your name?"

"Pink Sola." He wraps an arm about me. He's warm, like he's running a fever. My personal space-heater. "After a night of food and games and drinking, I think it's high time we became official friends. Don't you?"

I smile at him. "Yeah, I think so too. And it's Choi Sola, not pink Sola."

"Your lips are pink. I also think you'd look good with pink hair."

I touch the strands, considering it. "You're drunk, Youngho."

His smile is soft and sleepy, his eyes drooping. "I am. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Or something like that."

"You should head home," I hear myself say. But I can't help thinking how natural he looks on my couch.