Before Song Yeong leaves, Aeshin asks him for directions to the photo studio where her parents were photographed. Easily remembering its location, Song Yeong had helpfully drawn a map on a napkin. It was only two streets away. Without his help, she would have wandered around for hours in search for it; mostly due to her limited Japanese and English. So she heads straight for it in the afternoon, calmly taking only ten minutes to find it. To her surprise, Eugene is inside, staring at her with wide eyes.
After paying for the camera and giving the proper instructions for its shipment to Huiseong in Hanseong, Eugene asks the proprietor if he could wait outside for someone he was hoping to see. He only has about five hours before the ship leaves, so he’s hoping she’ll have a reason to show up at this studio before he departs. As he looks out the window, he starts in surprise to find her just arriving, looking between the sign on the window and a picture she holds in her hand. He can see, even from this distance, that she’s still wearing the ring. When she spots him, her eyes widen and she hides her hand behind her back. He smiles at the proprietor and exits the studio. “How is it that you’re here?” she asks, sounding breathless.
“I was hoping to meet you here,” he says, then gestures at the studio. “This is the only photo studio in the city.” He strides toward her, watching in fascination as her eyes flicker and she lowers her head, as though expecting a scolding.
“I was very surprised,” she almost whispers, still hiding her hand behind her back. “I thought you had left.”
It makes the fact that she’s wearing the ring, and hiding it from him, all the sweeter. “I leave in five hours,” Eugene explains, watching her face raptly. “I almost missed it… this face you make as if you were caught doing something bad.” The corner of his lips can’t help but twitch upwards, smiling almost involuntarily at the guilty expression on her face. He steps forward, reaching for the hand she hid behind her back. He brings it out, smiling slightly as he holds it between them, smoothing his thumb over the white and rose gold band.
She’s blushing as she says “I just didn’t know where else to put it,” which they both know is an excuse. He takes his time in looking up at her face, almost visibly holding back from embracing her. He clenches his jaw to avoid smiling widely, and looks into her eyes.
“That’s where it should be,” he says with finality. Eugene jerks his head at the studio, quirking a brow. “Shall we go inside?” he asks, unable to contain his excitement. He turns, pulling her by the hand still in his grasp. She has to trot to keep up with his long strides as he practically races toward the store’s front desk. The bell rings as they enter the establishment, and the proprietor rises as he smiles at Eugene.
“Do you have something to order other than a camera?” he asks, looking curiously between Eugene and his lady friend. As he remembers Eugene requesting to wait outside, he puts the dots together. “You met the person you were waiting for.”
“Fortunately,” Eugene says with a smile, still holding Aeshin’s hand tightly. “Could you take our photograph?” Aeshin looks between them as they talk, unable to understand the conversation.
“Of course,” the proprietor says smilingly. “May I know the relationship between you and the lady?”
Eugene turns to look at Aeshin, a mix of pride and delight in his eyes as he revels in this moment. “We’re married,” he explains, a gentle grin lighting up his expression.
“This way, please!” the proprietor welcomes them, waving them inside. Eugene nods, and pulls Aeshin forward, asking her to take a seat. She does as she’s bid, surprised when Eugene takes a seat beside her. She realizes they’re taking a photograph as they sit in front a strange box with a tube mounted on four legs. They sit, and both of them wriggle about as they try to look as natural as possible.
“Why are we suddenly taking a photograph?” Aeshin asks almost without moving her mouth, turning to look at him. Eugene doesn’t turn, staring forward stiffly as he adjusts his posture.
“Smile,” he requests instead. From the corner of his eye, he can see that she’s still looking at him, but is now smiling widely. The look in her eyes is warm and genuine, a rare thing on her face. He turns to look at her and he can’t help laughing a little at her naiveté in front of a camera. He loves her so very much, this adorable and somewhat ignorant Lady. When she sees his smile, her own expression is softened slightly; as though seeing him smile makes her truly happy. “Not at me, look at the front.” He gestures toward the camera, his gaze soft.
She turns, and nods once in understanding. “Ah,” she says, making him laugh again.
“Okay, here it goes!” the proprietor says, done prepping the camera and ducking under the cloth cover. He holds up a light bulb and counts down from three as both Aeshin and Eugene’s hands tighten around their rings. On three, the bulb and camera go off, and their picture is immortalized.
The owner tells them the picture will take about an hour to develop, so they can come back later. They exit the studio once Eugene has paid, strolling out. It’s still a long time before his ship departs, so he asks her if she’s had lunch. Aeshin shakes her head and Eugene clings to the opportunity to spend the day with her. She thus follows him back to his hotel, as he’d seen a restaurant on the ground floor, where they served typical Japanese dishes. The crowded streets give him an excuse to offer her his arm so they won’t be separated, and she accepts it with a blush on her cheeks. Having her so close makes his heart race and he hopes she cannot hear it. The hotel is a thirty-minute walk from the studio, and he takes it slow so she’ll be at his side a little longer. Aeshin seems to realize the reason for his dawdling, and her own steps match his. Her arm tightens around his, drawing closer to his side. His breath hitches and she asks him questions softly, leaning in to be heard above the noise of the street. Eugene barely has a head to respond.
Their arrival to the hotel is sorrowful, as he’s forced to drop her arm to open the door. He leads her inside, holding the door open for her and putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the restaurant. Aeshin blushes at his familiar handling, but doesn’t complain. Instead, she steps closer to him as they reach the hostess podium, wondering if he’ll wrap his arm around her waist instead. She’s disappointed when his hand drops, only to realize he did so in order to sign into the guest list propped astride the podium. The hostess greets them with a smile, which Eugene does not return, and welcomes them inside. Aeshin almost smiles when his hand finds the small of her back again, and she allows him to lead her to their table. When Aeshin glimpses at the menu and realizes she can’t read it, Eugene takes the trouble of describing each dish to her. They both order tea and ask for time to decide on their food.
“Which one would you like?” Eugene asks her, looking over the menu. Aeshin is a bit busy staring at his face, wanting to memorize his every detail before he leaves her.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Aeshin says dismissively. She’s too nervous to eat, so nothing seems appetizing. Eugene gives her a look before finally deciding on ordering hot noodles. It’s cold January, so a warm soup should do nicely for both of them. The waiter takes their order, and Eugene notices how he eyes Aeshin’s face. Eugene puts his left hand on the table and nonchalantly motions for Aeshin to do the same. She does so, and he takes it in his hand, holding it gently. The waiter, noting their matching rings, scurries away in embarrassment, unnoticed by the pair sitting at the table.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says fondly, holding her hand across the table. “My wife.”
Aeshin’s blush spread like wildfire on her cheeks, and she barely manages to control the giddy smile that surfaces at his words. She’s saved by the waiter coming back bearing both their drinks and their noodles. Eugene releases her hand and shows her how to split the wooden chopsticks with the proper word of thanks. They eat in relative peace, as Aeshin exclaims over the foreign flavor and Eugene tells her stories of the first time he ever had Japanese food when he passed through Japan the year before. They enjoy their meal, grinning, as it’s their first time sharing one while being in the same room and table. After they finish, Eugene asks the hotel employees to take some tea upstairs and offers to show her his room.
Aeshin delights in the opportunity and once they fetch the key to his room, she joins him in the “lift”. She stares in awe at the small space as a young Japanese man inside asks Eugene a question, which he answers, and closes the double cage-doors with care. Once shut, he pulls a lever and announces something. The floor moves beneath Aeshin’s feet, and she squeals, quickly grabbing onto Eugene’s arm. Eugene doesn’t do a very good job of smothering his laughter at her reaction, watching with thinly veiled amusement as she stares all around her, and at him, with open disbelief. “Is this moving? How is this moving? Is someone pulling us up? What is this? Is it safe?”
Eugene assures her it’s perfectly safe, trying in vain to pry her hands and their vice-grip off of his arm. Her hands then cling to the front of his vest, and Eugene wraps his arm around her in comfort. “Don’t worry. We’re only going to the fourth floor.” She looks at him with wide, horrified eyes, but she’s getting used to the feeling of the floor moving beneath her feet. She nods shakily, and Eugene squeezes her against his side. The boy announces their arrival to the fourth floor, obviously used to many people reacting as Aeshin did, and slows the elevator down. He opens the doors for them, and Eugene leads Aeshin outside. She glares at the ground beneath her feet, then back up at Eugene. “The floor here won’t move, will it?” Eugene laughs out loud, leading her toward his room.
“I hope not,” he remarks with a laugh, unlocking the door. Aeshin gives the “lift” one last glare before she steps inside, marveling at the lovely decorations all over the walls. While the Japanese have done many horrible things, she cannot deny that they have very good taste in interior décor. He closes the door behind them and follows her inside, gesturing for her to take a seat. Mirroring her teacher unknowingly, Aeshin sits on the bed, bouncing a little. She smiles up at him, and it suddenly hits Eugene that this might not have been the best of ideas. Seeing her there, on his bed, is doing odd things to his head. Seeing his expression change, Aeshin stands, coming closer to him.
“Is everything alright?” she asks him, looking worried. Eugene nods wordlessly, unsure of his control. If he speaks now, he’s sure he’ll say something foolish. She reaches for him, touching his face gently with the tips of her fingers. He leans into her touch, reaching up to press her palm against his cheek, and then turning his head to drop a kiss against the soft skin of her wrist. Aeshin starts in surprise and looks down at her feet. Then, as though she decided, she comes closer. Their chests brush and Eugene remembers how little clothing she’s wearing under her winter coat. He takes shallow breaths, trying not to touch her, but Aeshin won’t let him run away from her. Her other hand rises, curling around to the back of his neck, and draping her body against his. His eyes seek hers, wondering if she knows what she’s doing, and her determined gaze meets him fearlessly. He wraps both arms around her waist, finally allowing himself to breathe her in, and their foreheads meet. She reacts first, rising on her toes to leave an innocent kiss on his lips. Eugene’s expression tightens as he deliberates, unsure. She kisses him again, this time placing more pressure. His hands trail up her back, over her shoulders and cup her cheeks. His eyes flicker between her large black eyes and her parted lips. He sighs, opening his mouth slightly, and leans in.
A knock on his door has them jumping apart, Aeshin running a shaking hand through her hair while Eugene doesn’t seem to know if he wants to kill or kiss the person at the door. He takes two long strides and opens the door with near-violence, a forced smile on his face. A young woman is there, pushing a tea-cart. Recalling he’d ordered tea to be brought to his room, Eugene wonders if he needs to slap himself to recall his sanity. He asks for the tray to be given to him, closes the door and places the tray carefully on the low table by the bed. “Would you like some tea?” He asks Aeshin, noting the tea has already been steeped. The plate of butter biscuits may interest her, and he reaches for it, only for Aeshin to stop his hand.
“No,” she says softly, pulling his hand away from the tea tray. “No, I do not want tea.” She says the second part in English, as though begging him to understand her. Eugene straightens and looks at her. She’s blushing fiercely, but her gaze is just as determined as before.
“What am I to do with you?” he asks her, before pulling her up against him and kissing her with everything he has. She melts into him, a little moan escaping her as he carefully guides her backwards to the bed. Instead of pushing her down, he turns them and takes a seat. She leans down as not to break the kiss, and has his eyes crossing when she puts one knee, then the other, onto the mattress on each side of his hips. She’s straddling him, a position of control, and it drives him wild. He loses count of the kisses they share, moving from one into the other seamlessly. When her tongue shyly touches his lips, he forgets to give her control. Pulling her down, he presses her back into the bed and stretches fully, covering her entirely with his body. Her face is flushed and he can see her pulse racing in her neck. She’s tense beneath him, and her eyes are wide. Eugene truly wonders what he ought to do with her, and leans down to kiss her, languidly. She relaxes as he does so, her hands coming up to rest against his hips. He’s poised like a tiger, waiting for her decision. And she gives it to him by pulling his hips down against her own.
She wants him. All of him.
But he has to be sure. He breaks their kiss, panting from the exertion of controlling his raging hormones. “Are you sure?” her eyes find his, lit from within like a star. He marvels at this beautiful woman, in awe as she lies in bed. Her hat as fallen off the side of the mattress and her neat bun has come undone, surrounding her head in a black halo. “Are you sure you… don’t want tea?”
He’s leaving in a little more than three hours. She asked him not to stay. So he’ll give her a way out before she can give herself to him. Before she can tie herself so unequivocally to him. He knows he’ll never love another for as long as he lives, but he can’t destroy her virtue on a mere desire to be her only lover. Aeshin, however, has never been the type to do things she’s not 100% sure of. “Mrs. Choi,” she says firmly, “doesn’t want tea.”
She always leaves him breathless.
He doesn’t rush anything. He has hours to spare. He pays close attention to removing her clothes and lets her remove his. Button by button, he undresses her, and reveals the porcelain skin littered with scars. She does the same for him, touching each of his own scars as though asking for their stories. The one on his left arm seems to distress her a little, and he remembers he’d gotten that particular wound after shooting himself to save her. He kisses her to distract her, grabbing a bunch of her hair and following the trail of her neck and collar bone. She moves against him and he can’t help the urge to pin her and control her; to take what she freely offers and show her what a man is capable of. Instead, he lets her take the lead, learning what takes her breath away. And as his hands wander down, what makes her scream. He swallows those sounds, and raises himself a bit so he can see her. All of her. And drink… her… in… She’s watching him, too; and pretty soon, he’s grunting with effort as she learns his weak spots. When he finally gives her what she begs him for, they gasp against each other, his arms wrapped around her back, pushing her down against him by the shoulders. She’s wild beneath him, and matches his pace, until neither of them is sure where the other ends and they begin. She leaves him behind, and at the sight of her gasping, he follows her down the rabbit hole.
[cred.peanutbutt on Twitter.]
She’s his. Truly, fully his. Just as he is hers. He kisses her shoulder, then her neck, and finally her lips. Aeshin responds slowly, drowsy after their coupling. He kisses her temple and chuckles against her sweating skin. She kisses his neck, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down to lay beside her. In their lovemaking, they’d thrown all the pillows to the floor. He offers her his arm as a pillow, and she cuddles up against him, smiling.
“My husband,” she responds.
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