The love story of Lee Seon-jae and Oh Hye-won of the top Korean drama series 'Secret Love Affair' continues...
This story is dedicated to my friend and visual collaborator Tess Angeles, whose edited pictures are almost as beautiful as her sweet natu...
When the gig ended, Seon-jae and Hye-won took a taxi back to the hotel alone, after calls of - nur noch eins mehr - just one more - finally fell on deaf ears, the band having played for hours and looking like they were seriously in need of some liquid sustenance. Ciara and Elke left for pastures fresh, with a decided spring in their step and - at least in Ciara's case - an impish grin in her eye, while the 2 men looked happy to settle in for the night with the band members and a bottle of single malt Irish whiskey.
Such a relaxed night of music would have felt very special anyway but coming at the end of 2 great days in Hamburg and with a free morning ahead of them, the 2 were content to relax - Seon-jae holding Hye-won's hand - while the taxi driver listened to a radio station in a language which might have been Polish or maybe Russian but which neither understood, the melodious patter in the background giving them the freedom to relax quietly.
Hye-won lifted their entwined hands to her lips and kissed Seon-jae's hand, slowly, tenderly. It felt to Seon-jae like the blessing kisses she had placed on each of his 10 fingers before his end-of-year performance in Freiburg and her next words showed him that that was what she had intended.
'Love?'
'Hmm?'
'The Danse Macabre was...so good - technically of course but also...,' she baulked at reducing his performance to its component parts, when he was so much more than the sum of his parts, 'just every way. You have passed beyond a student now. You are truly an artist. You do know that, don't you?'
When he didn't answer, she turned to meet his eyes and - in the shadow of the taxi - couldn't read his expression properly, so moved her face closer to his.
'Love? What is it?'
Still, he didn't answer, though tiny movements at the edges of his mouth betrayed the deep effect of her words. He lifted his eyes to hers and - even in the penumbral light - she read a rawness in their glittering depths. Aware of the presence of the taxi driver and not wanting to score him further, she placed her hand to cradle his cheek, much as he had done to hers in the restaurant and she slowly closed and then opened her eyes, so he could see her devotion and take strength from it. He managed a side smile and for now, it was enough, as she laid her head on his shoulder, as the colourful night-scape slipped by.
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She surprised him as they walked through the lobby: 'love, what do you say to a night-cap?'
He lowered and then lifted his eye-brows, as though he didn't quite believe his ears: 'you...a night-cap?'
She cocked her head to the side too cute and answered: 'well, whatever I drink doesn't really matter, does it? Let's just do it because...just because.' You still look too sad.
Seon-jae now raised his eye-brows to the heavens and something of the cheeky Seon-jae re-appeared in his grin: 'don't say I stopped you,' as he made a gallant gesture to the bar - lead the way, my lady. That's more like it, you cute brat.
