Portrait of a Swallow

Ivory Black

Seri was able to retrieve some of her belongings back to Jeong Hyeok's home that night. As she lay in the guest room in which she slept in the night of the fire, she pondered how she would bring this living situation to Sang-ah. The older maid didn't harbor animosity towards Seri, she thought, but there was always an accusatory glint in her eyes, the disapproval that she emitted burdening Seri more than she thought it would.

She wondered of her own propriety, if staying with the elusive painter would do her harm, but then she thinks to him in the studio, how he held her hands in his and spoke his intentions to her from deep within his soul. Afterwards, he gathered her in his arms, and she could hear the wild thumping of his heartbeat, and wondered if the vibrations of her own could be felt against his chest, for it was beating with such a ferocity, she could hear it within her own ears. She had felt so bold, in that moment, to wrap her arms around his waist, the warmth of his flesh felt below her fingertips even through the fine threads of his shirt, and it only prompted him to hold onto her tighter, until all uncertainty of her predicament melted away, until all her senses were consumed by him.

She settled for avoiding the subject until Sang ah found out, for the painter's intentions were pure, so as she tried to find slumber that night, she convinced herself that the living arrangement was honorable, that the painter would not seek to make her improper, and with that in mind, she drifted off to dreamland.

***

Living with the gentle painter, was a peaceful life she never would expect. She would awake in the morning, just before morning doves sang their delightful chipper, and make her way down the steps to begin the fire in the kitchen. When she would finish brewing the tea, Jeong Hyeok would meet her, and make them a meal, one which she always obliged, relishing the hot meal he would make for her with utmost care. They would talk about everything under the sun, from her upbringing, to how his passion developed to paint, from what shape the clouds were to what he would like to eat for lunch. She found in him, not only a caretaker, but also a stable companion, one she found herself giving her heart to completely and irrevocably.

Two weeks later, she awoke quite early in the morning, the sun just beginning to stream into the windows, but she could hear the unmistakable thud in the back yard. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she groggily arises from the bed and makes her way to the window, only to see her painter chopping firewood. She could only catch his back but couldn't tear her gaze away from the layer of sweat that had permeated through the back of his shirt, his taut muscles outlined against the fabric of his clothing. The upcoming winter chill did little to diminish the heat creeping through his body, and running a hand over his sweat-laden brow, he proceeds to remove the said shirt, causing Seri to gasp and turn away from the sight, her heart beating erratically at the sight before her.

But curiosity always got the best of her, and peeking through the window, she observed him once again, her mouth suddenly dry attempting to swallow a lump in her throat, as she watches his sinewy muscles tense and relax with the sharp movements of this actions, his perspiration glistening against the morning sunlight, the droplets akin to the morning dew.

His movements slowly come to a halt and gingerly, he peers back at the house, as if sensing he is being watched. Jumping slightly, she hides behind the wall, with the fear of being caught, as she rubs small circles in her chest to calm her breathing, hoping he didn't notice her finding fascination in his movements.

She quickly puts on her dress for the day before fixing her hair in the mirror, tying her locks into her signature low bun before scurrying down the steps and into the kitchen to prepare some tea and breakfast for them.

Jeong Hyeok walks in a moment later, his shirt now fitted across his chest, the sheen of sweat coating his tan skin.

"You're up early," he states, as he observes her skittish form while she tinkers with lighting the logs for the fire.