Stay Another Day

Chapter One: Dreams

Seri gasped and sat upright.

Something woke her. Wisps of her dream still lingering before her, her eyes were wide as she looked around in confusion. She clutched the comforter to her chest. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

Omo. What kind of a dream was that?

A deep voice boomed in the background and Seri yelped.

There he was, the man of her dreams – literally. Just a few seconds ago, he had been the star attraction in her dream where he had been very hot and very naked and doing some very adult things to her. There he was, standing in the kitchen doorway, hair neatly combed and very much clothed in his military uniform. He was holding a cup and staring at her.

She sensed that he had asked her a question. "What?" she croaked.

"I asked if you're alright. You looked like you were having a bad dream," said Jeong-hyeok. "Are you okay?"

He tilted his head a fraction and regarded her in concern. "Your face is a bit..."

Her palms flew to her cheeks. They felt sweaty.

"Yes," she said, all traces of sleep gone. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I was having a -"

A sex dream.

"Um..."

About you.

"I need to use the bathroom," she said.

She stood so abruptly from the sleeping mat that she felt lightheaded. In an attempt to sprint to the bathroom, her right foot got tangled in the sheets, eliciting a squeak before she quickly regained her balance.

Jeong-hyeok flinched but she held up her palm.

"I'm okay," she called out without looking back.

With a deep breath, she smoothed down her sweater, straightened up to her full 5'4 feet and, with whatever shred of dignity she had left, marched to the bathroom and shut the door.

He watched in amusement from the kitchen.

For Jeong-hyeok, mornings often slid from one to the next, each forgettable in their monotony. Lately, he found himself looking forward to the start of each day.

Some days, he would open his bedroom door to find her still asleep.

With black socks treading towards the kitchen, he would be careful to avoid the creaky spots on the old oak floor. She probably didn't know it, but she snored. Soft, little rumbling snores that made him smile.

Other times, he would wake to find her sitting cross-legged, nose buried in one of his books with a cup of coffee waiting for him on the table.

Se-ri would often greet him with a bright smile and he'd politely nod his acknowledgement.

She was, quite possibly, the strangest and most frustrating woman he'd ever met.

He wasn't sure how someone he barely knew was so adept at pushing his buttons. Those eyes that could soften in a way that made him catch his breath could flash daggers in an instant, forcing him to frantically recall what he had just said or done.

For the past two weeks, mornings in his cottage have certainly been far from dull.

* * *

In the bathroom, Se-ri leaned over the basin gripping the edge of the wooden countertop.

She stared at the mirror. Her face was flushed. Three-bottles-of-soju flushed. Strands of hair had slipped from the loose braid and clung to the sides of her face.