Boundless

제 11 장

The soft hush of midnight filtered through gauzy curtains, washing our skin in silver light. The world beyond the window faded, and all that remained was the quiet rhythm of our breathing—his, like a tide pulling me into shore.

Jae lay against me, his head nestled gently on my chest, his breath scattering warmth across my bare skin. My fingers tangled through the strands of his damp hair, as if afraid to let go of a moment so sacred it might vanish into vapor. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close, grounding us both in the present we had created with whisper and touch.

He tilted his head back, eyes closed in surrender, a soft sound escaping his parted lips as his hands gripped my shoulders—not to restrain, but to feel more of me, to remind himself this wasn't a dream. I moved slowly, tenderly, and he followed, our bodies caught in a dance neither of us wanted to end.

"Jae," I breathed, my voice breaking under the weight of feeling.

He looked up at me, a smile curving against his flushed cheeks. "Yes, my love?" His voice was soft thunder—deep, rich, promising.

Our skin whispered against one another, the world vanishing as the crescendo of our connection swept us away. There was no rush, only reverence. Every sigh, every press of skin to skin, was a vow spoken in silence.

When it was over, and our heartbeats settled into one shared rhythm, he kissed the hollow of my neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's hard... to resist you."

I ran a hand through his hair, brushing the damp strands from his forehead. "Good thing I came prepared," I murmured with a knowing smile. "Plan B."

Jae laughed—a warm, boyish sound that made my heart flutter—and stood, walking naked toward his closet, a towel hanging loosely from his shoulder like royalty returning from battle. When he returned, wrapped in soft white, carrying clothes for me in one hand, he looked at me as if I were something holy.

"My queen," he said, offering the garments. "Would you prefer a bath or a shower? Either way, I'm joining you."

"Shower," I said with a smirk. "We can save time."

He picked me up without warning, slinging me over his shoulder with a grin. I squealed, laughing and smacking his back. "Jae! Put me down!"

"Not until you say I'm the best cook in Korea," he teased, smacking my backside with mischief.

"In your dreams!"

He placed me gently on the bathroom counter, cupping my face in both hands. "You're so beautiful, Athena," he said, brushing a kiss onto my forehead. "I could kiss you all day."

Then, softly, he began to sing.

"If only I had just one day... I want to peacefully fall asleep, intoxicated with your sweet scent..."

I recognized it—Just One Day by BTS. My lips curved into a shy smile, heart catching in my chest.

He took my hand. "I love you," he whispered in Korean, and my breath caught.

I searched his face, looking for a flicker of doubt, but all I saw was truth.

"Really?" I whispered.

"I love you, Athena," he repeated in English.

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. "I love you too."

—

Later, in the kitchen, we were wrapped in domestic chaos. Sesame oil coated the counter like spilled ink.

"You added too much!" I gasped, pointing to the now nearly empty bottle.

"I followed the recipe!" Jae insisted, holding up his phone. "It says half a teaspoon!"

"That was a cup, Jae."

He stared at the bottle, realization dawning like sunrise. "Oh... wow."

I laughed, clicking my tongue. "And you call yourself Korean? You can't even make bulgogi stew?"

"I can make everything else!" he argued, eyes wide with mock offense.

"You're doing a terrible job so far," I teased.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, wrapping his arms around my waist. "That's why I have you."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

We froze.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked.

"No..."

The bell rang again.

"Go open the door!" I said, giving him a shove.

He walked to the door, looking back at me once more. I peeked down the hallway.

Then I heard it.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" he said in Korean.

Panic surged.

I sprinted into his room, fixing my hair, adjusting his oversized shirt tucked hastily into my jeans. I stared at myself in the mirror and tried to will my heartbeat into calm.

"Athena, darling!" Jae called.

I stepped out cautiously. A woman with soft, storm-gray hair and a kind smile stood in the living room. She wore a floral green dress and smelled of cinnamon and something warm—cookies, maybe.

"Oh my, Jae Eun," she said in Korean. "She's beautiful. Her skin... so rich, like chocolate."

She didn't think I understood.

I bowed slightly. "Hello."

She turned, surprised. "I'm Ms. Park."

"I'm Athena. Athena Jackson," I said with a smile, bowing again.

"She's polite," she said to Jae in Korean.

"Mother," he chuckled, "she speaks Korean."

Her eyes widened, and a delighted laugh bubbled out of her.

"You are lovely, Ms. Park," I said in her language, and her face lit up.

"You're a treasure, Ms. Jackson. Your eyes are like moons—so round. And your cheekbones—sharp like a painting."

She reached up, placing her hands on my face. I smiled through the warmth.

Jae took my hand, squeezing gently. "I love her, Mom."

Ms. Park looked between us, eyes softening.

"I want to take you somewhere," she said, and I turned to Jae, surprised.

He smiled.

"She said... she's been saving this for the woman I would one day love."

And in that moment, I knew—this wasn't just a passing romance. It was the beginning of something unshakable.

Something utterly and completely... boundless.

⸻