There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Fifty-Two

Walking was far easier when the person attempting it wasn't full of soju. Rose moved painfully slowly, but Si-woo didn't get annoyed with her. He'd looped his arm around her solely to offer support. Like a gentleman, his hand stayed at a respectable distance between her chest and hip, resting atop her clothes rather than grabbing at her. Her feet tripped and dragged with each step and when she stumbled he added pressure and pulled her against his side to keep her from hitting the ground. It was late enough in the evening that many couples, groups of friends and businessmen were in similar states of drunkenness and no one gave them a second glance. Hidden in the crowds, they passed through the streets almost entirely unseen until they were beside then Han river. In the distance, water sprayed from the bridge in a beautifully lit rainbow cascade. The air was fresher by the water, rushing in toward the city and washing over Rose's warm, clammy skin. She closed her eyes and let out a long, wistful sigh.

Cruel as it was to Si-woo, Rose wished she was standing beside Tae-won. The image of him lying in bed with sweat clinging to every inch of his bare skin was seared into her mind, and even the alcohol couldn't wash it away. The man was turning into a dangerous addiction – something Rose was drawn to every time she pulled herself away – and she had no idea when she'd started to feel that she wanted or needed his presence in her life. Perhaps like a duckling to an adult, she'd imprinted onto Tae-won as the first Korean man to cross her path when they'd met on the plane, or she'd somehow felt subconsciously that they knew one another even when she was calling him a weird pervert and doing everything in her power to get away from him. He'd forced his way into her life and her heart, and it was only through sheer willpower that she'd force him back out.

'It's beautiful here,' Si-woo interrupted her silent reverie. Rose opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her, the streetlights giving his dark brown hair a golden halo and making his kind eyes sparkle. It pained her that she didn't feel a spark when it came to Si-woo; she couldn't have designed a more perfect man even in her dizziest daydreams. He was stable, honest, held down a respectable enough job, and put her welfare before his.

Except on that one date, when he'd taken the phone call.

'You kissed me,' Rose recalled. She tapped an unsteady finger to her cheek, remembering the warmth of his lips. 'Right here.'

'You seemed like you wanted to be kissed,' he said. 'Maybe not by me, now that I think of it.'

'You think I'm crazy.' It wasn't a question.

'I think the heart is complicated.'

'No, you think I'm totally insane,' Rose insisted. 'I know you do, because I do, and I probably am. I don't even know why I like him.'

'I was wondering that myself,' Si-woo confessed.

'He's arrogant.'

'Agreed.'

'And a womaniser.'

'Notoriously, yes.'

'And a bully,' Rose added. 'I mean, who tells someone that he's going to make them fall in love with him? You can't force love.'

'But you still love him.'

'I don't want to call it that.' Rose wrinkled her nose. 'It makes me think of Keiji.'

'Your last boyfriend?'

'Also a lying jerk bastard.'

Si-woo laughed softly – a sound which warmed Rose all the way to her soul – and she smiled helplessly up at him. If they became a couple they'd be told how perfect they were for each other, she was sure, just as people told her parents they were clearly meant for one another. Rose was a girl in need of direction and stability. With Si-woo's guidance and training she might make a career for herself as a model and soon become the young lady her parents hoped she'd be. Tae-won was reckless and impulsive; the only thing he'd lead her to would be a broken heart and life of drinking at roadside stalls as she tried to get over their latest argument. Their love would be tumultuous – a ship on stormy seas – and Si-woo's would be a sweet rowboat on a still, glassy lake on a summer's day.