Life in Switzerland

Drunk

Seri was drunk.

It didn't happen often, but he could remember every single time it did.

The first time he saw her drunk was on the terrace of his house, up north. He had organized a soju-clam party to cheer her up.

It had worked so well that she had spent the evening laughing, being in awe, and drinking. He had stayed away, watching her in silence.

Watching over her.

His eyes etching in his memory the sound of her voice, her laughter, the pink of her cheeks, the glow of her intoxicated gaze. Even drunk, she had retained enough lucidity to try to win at all costs, and she had won, loudly celebrating her victory one second, snoring with arms and legs spread the next.

The second time was at her home, in her apartment in Seoul, he had confessed what he really felt, what he really wanted, encouraged by the soju that ran through his veins, hoping that in her condition, she would not remember, because it hurt and he didn't want her to suffer.

And then, that was it.

Even after their reunion in Switzerland, she had not been drunk again. He had heard her on the phone once, she had picked up still laughing at something he had said, and her mother had thought she was drunk. She had explained that she couldn't be drunk when they had only two weeks. She wanted to be able to remember every second spent with him.

It had broken his heart.

Although she insisted that it wasn't his fault, that she was happy and perfectly fine, and that she preferred two weeks a year with him to a lifetime with someone else, he still felt guilty.

But now he didn't have to leave after two weeks, now his life was officially in Switzerland.

And she was drunk for the first time in so long.

She laughed and stumbled and he caught her, securing an arm around her as he closed the car door. They had celebrated his promotion within the university, and Seri had drunk more sangria than she could handle, while grumbling that decidedly, nothing was worth soju.

He had suspected that letting her drink wasn't a good idea when he had seen her eyes widen in happiness as she excitedly told him how sweet sangria was. By the time he had gone to greet some colleagues who had called him to congratulate him, she had already had three glasses.

She giggled and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Why are you hugging me so tight, Ri Jeong Hyeok-sshi?"

He suppressed a smile.

"Because I don't want you to fall and get hurt…"

She had flushed cheeks and her voice was slurred, but her smile, her smile could light up the darkest of darknesses at any time.

"Tssss, I can walk alone..." she protested.

"No, you can not." he replied, trying to move somehow towards the steps of the chalet.

But she pushed him away and stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

"Yes I can! Look!"

She stood for a second, then slowly tipped forward, and he held her back as she put her arms around his neck, giggling.

"It's because this ground is not even!"

"Yes, that's probably the reason..."

He ended up putting an arm under her legs to lift her. She burst out laughing and swayed her feet so hard that a shoe ended up flying through the air.