The Art of Falling In Love | Pentagon ✔

Chapter 3

I HURRIED TO MY APPOINTMENT this afternoon after all my classes for today. I'm about five minutes late already and it's not good for business.

I was scheduled to paint murals today but my art history professor held us for ten more minutes. I hate him. Always so full of himself.

I took the bus to my destination and followed Google Map. It took me to my project, my extra income. I grinned at the huge house in front of me. I pressed the door bell twice and a woman's voice answered me. “Yes? Who is this?”

“Kim Chanmi. You called for mural painting.” I said.

“Ah, yes. Come in.” she said and their huge gate clicked open.

The front yard is gorgeous. Tons and tons of money were obviously spent for the beautiful landscape. There was a small fountain in the middle of the lawn. I made my way to the porch of the house and a beautiful woman about my mother's age came out of the house. “Hello, sweetie! Welcome.” she said with a warm smile.

•

The inside of the house is still quite empty. I wonder what kind of mural she would like me to paint.

“The house is new. We're still waiting for our things to come this week.” The woman explained. “I'm Mrs. Adachi, by the way.”

Adachi. Japanese.
I bowed for respect. “Would you like to see my paintings first?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Yes, but would you like a drink first? We might have juice or tea, or water...” She said with so much uncertainty, it was kind of funny.

“Just water, please. Thank you.”

She left and came back with a pitcher of water and a tall glass. “Here.”

“Thanks. Sorry I'm late. I got held back from my last class.” I said as I poured my glass a water.

“That's alright. I understand. I am quite surprised that you are a student.”

I gulped the cold water. Fantastic. My throat dried from running.

“Oh, yes. I'm a freshman in fine arts. I paint stuff for extra income.”

“A hardworking student. I admire you already.”

I blushed. “Thank you.”

“How long have you been painting?” she asked.

“I've been painting since I was twelve. I had professional lessons when I was thirteen until fifteen. And then I practiced on my own, just on and on.” I answered, sliding my portfolio towards her. “Here are some of my paintings.”

She took it and scanned them carefully, nodding to herself quietly. I drank my water in half.

“Oh, this one is beautiful!” she said and when I looked at it, I saw my painting of Yananㅡwhen we went to The Sukgeun Garden, or The Garden of Morning Calm, last year during spring when the flowers were in full bloom for inspiration, and obviously, I did get inspired.

Yanan was standing tall, his side view facing me. He was smiling at a beautiful set of red tulips, admiring them. I was admiring him. He looked perfect with all those kinds of flowers.