Jae Ham
We made sure to bring the kids back to the orphanage before it got dark.
By the time I've parked my car in front of Sage's house, the sun has begun to set, casting a dim yellow glow over the world.
As we step towards her one-story house, both of us glance heavenward, gazing up at the pretty blue sky tinted with hues of pink, orange, and violet. It's like an artfully messy paint palette.
I'm taken by surprise when Sage turns to face me, her smile calm. "Would you like to stay for dinner? It's half past six already."
I stare at her, feeling reluctant. Noting my hesitation, she chuckles softly. "Don't worry, this doesn't count as a date."
Still, I don't move, and she seems to read my mind again. "If you're thinking about your family, I've already texted Cody about you staying over."
At her words, I can't help but laugh a little. "You're so sure I'm going to say yes."
When Sage lifts one eyebrow in silent challenge, I raise my palms in surrender. "Guilty," I concede, wearing a grin.
Once inside the house, Sage makes her way to the kitchen, and I wonder if she knows that I'm watching her. "So what's for dinner?" I ask, tossing a cursory glance at the seven cats sleeping in their plush beds.
Sage reaches for the fridge door, pulls it open, and slides out a large pan covered in tinfoil. "Lasagna, french bread, and a salad. Is that okay?"
"Sounds great. Can I give you a hand with anything?"
"It's pretty much done," she answers as she puts the pan in the oven. "All I have to do is heat this for half an hour or so. But if you want, you can open some wine--it's on the counter."
"No problem," I say.
"I'll join you in the living room in a few minutes," she pronounces before vanishing into the bathroom, locking the door with a soft click.
Sage Heart
I'm staring at my reflection, feeling a bubble of panic swell inside me.
The panic intensifies when I see the mix of emotions whirling in my brown eyes: Anger, happiness, sadness, excitement, but above all, fear.
Shaking my head vehemently, I twist open the faucet and let the water flow onto my palms. I splash some water on my face, trying to gain my wits, hoping to reassemble my cluttered thoughts.
What should I do? There are only four dates left. Will I be able to handle rejecting him? I can't even imagine.. I mean.. to even consider..
I don't want to let him go.
But if he truly is The One I've been looking for all these years, then everything will be a mess again.
Maybe he'll understand if I tell him about the curse..
Oh yes. After we sit down and start dinner, I'll pour him a glass of wine and say, "Guess what? I was born with a curse that makes my eyes glow orange every time I see people's hearts glow and I'm not allowed to kiss you lest you want to die at eighteen."
No. fucking. way am I telling him that.
"Why is life so hard?" I groan, pressing my forehead on the mirror, my eyes shut.
After a few minutes of reevaluating my life choices, I gaze at my reflection, force a smile, then step out of the bathroom and into the living room, where Jae has dropped to one knee, poking my sleeping cats with a boyish smile playing on his lips.
"You don't want to do that," I warn him laughingly. "Cats can hold a grudge when you wrong them."
Startled, Jae springs up before turning to face me while rubbing his nape awkwardly. "Is that so?"
"Yes, it is so." I glance at the microwave, and, seeing that the food is still unready, my eyes lock on Jae's. "Would you like to watch something while we wait for the food to heat up?"
"Actually.." I look up at him, caught off guard by the sight of red flooding his cheeks, a light pink tingeing his ears. "Would you mind dancing with me?"
"Here?" My eyes widen, my heart racing. "Now?"
Wordlessly, Jae moves closer, taking my hand in his. He smiles as he raises my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers before lowering it into position.
Then, with his eyes locked on mine, he slips his other arm around my back and gently pulls me toward him. As his thumb begins to gently trace the skin of my hand, I find myself beginning to follow his lead.
I seriously don't want to ruin the moment, but I can't stop myself from whispering in his ear, "There's no music."
I feel a pleasant shiver when he whispers back, "Wait for it."
In one swift motion, he retracts his arm from my back and reaches into his pocket, hits a few buttons on his phone, then thrusts it into his pocket again before replacing his hand on the small of my back.
When the song begins to fill the room, the music engulfing us, my lips slowly form a broad, disbelieving smile.
I instantly recognize the lyrics to Euphoria.
Neoneun nae salme dasi tteun haetbit Eorin sijeol nae kkumdeurui jaerim
Moreugesseoi gamjeongi mwonji Hoksi yeogido kkumsok ingeonji
Kkumeun samagui pureun singiru Nae an gipeun gosui a priori
Sumi makil deusi haengbokaejyeo Jubyeoni jeomjeom deo tumyeong haejyeo
The soft melody continues to play in the background as we start to rotate in slow circles, and though I feel embarrassed at first, I finally lean into him, relaxing into the warmth of his body. His breath warms my neck, and as his hands tenderly skim my back, I close my eyes and lean further into him, dropping my head onto his shoulder and feeling the last of my resolve slip away.
Jeogi meolliseo badaga deullyeo Kkumeul geonneoseo supul neomeoro
Seonmyeong haejineun geugoseuroga
This, I realize, is what I've wanted all along, and in the tiny kitchen, we move in rhythm to the gentle music, each of us lost in each other.
I bite my lip to stifle a sob when he murmurs in my ear the next words of the song: "Take my hands now. You are the cause of my euphoria.
Euphoria. Take my hands now. You are the cause of my euphoria.
Euphoria. Close the door now. When I'm with you I'm in utopia."
"Why are you crying?"
I bury my face into the crook of his neck, unable to control my storm of emotions. In between sobs, I whisper over the fabric of his shirt, "I'm just happy."
