A SCENT THAT TRANSPORTS
2014-12-17 / Seoul, South Korea
âWhat should I get Father for Christmas?â
The shuffling stops, suddenly. She swears she can almost hear his bewilderment.
Thereâs a faucet being run, something being discarded in the sink. âWhere would you even get the money, Sowon-nim?â
Smudges of ink stain the white of her paper, hands clammy for whatever reason. She shifts the phone higher on her shoulder. âI work part-time, oppa,â he inales; sharply, like heâs about to protest, but she cuts him short. âIâd like to not feel like a liability this time, so please ââ
âI havenât even said anything, Sowonie ââ
âBut you will,â once again, she interrupts him. âI know you will.â
(This might be turning into a habit.)
(A bad habit.)
2016-10-17 / Seoul, South Korea
âIncense Oud.â
Sowon looks at him, this time. The first time today. He keeps his on the road. As he should.
âSorry, what?â
He grins â pleased, perhaps, that sheâs finally paying attention to him. âIncense Oud,â he repeats, syllables rolling off his tongue in slow measures. âYou mentioned it once, in your sleep.â
Suddenly the bobble heads on the dashboard seem quite fascinating. âYou must have heard wrong.â
Jihyun hums, lower lip jutting forward. âYouâre probably right,â he begins, easing into the brakes as the light turns red. âThatâs shit, anyway â Incense Oud, I mean,â he quickly amends as she turns to him, lips curling in disdain.
âAnd besides,â he continues, one hand threading through his hair, âdoesnât Aventus smell better?â
A beat of silence. âSure.â















