CHAPTER FOUR |Found a talentless, uneducated lad| CHOI HANUEL

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When my exhausted body organs were about to give up on functioning properly, I opened my eyes for the last time to look at my favorite chandelier dangling from the ceiling. I was unable to make out whether it was bodily fatigue after organizing the entire thing by myself, or the depressing thoughts edging me toward my early demise. For once, I snapped shut my eyes and prayed wholeheartedly to rip the harsh events off from my head permanently.

I'll tell Uncle Mojo about Taehyung. Tomorrow morning. Or maybe that's too early. How about the late evening?

I rolled on to Uncle Mojo's room to seek his permission to go out. I whistled absentmindedly and played with the keys of the car, hopping from one hand to another. My gaze searched his face as I moved into a pin-drop silence drive. He was looking astray on the TV with no movements assuring he was alive. "Uncle Mojo, I'm calling on Lisa tonight, we will go clubbing-"

"Keep it low, you jarring buzzer! Can't you see I'm watching a movie? The protagonist is going to teach the banker a lesson for not giving him a bank loan." He turned a little as much as his thickened back had allowed.

"W-e-l-l, I won't be disturbing you anymore. Might be a little late, so don't skip your dinner," I spoke meekly.

And as I was about to run at a speed of an athlete, his words pulled me back fervidly, "Aish, just look at these girls, one is dining out, and another is sinning in the disco. Then what did I do wrong to be under lock-and-key like a prisoner?"

I pouted and stalked backward as I playfully smacked on his arm. "Uncle Mojo, you are free to roam around the city. Nobody has clipped your wings. Ask Minho to take you to the night festivities-- Nanta performance, ppongjjak, etc. "

"Whatever. Are you taking your phone with you?"

"Yep."

"Is it charged up?"

"Yes, it is. Why are you asking though?"

"Because when I will give you the first warning, you don't give me these excuses back."

I narrowed my eyes slyly, "You do know I'll get late."

"By all means."

He was a man who could count the feathers of a flying bird, I wondered how was he susceptible to the lies I had been feeding him with overtime. Admittedly, I wouldn't put it past him if he somehow found me lying to him all the while. God save me.

***

The night celebrated the dalliance of my hair with the slightly warm breeze. My luminous convertible car moved further into the dinky area that made my status emblematic of Juliet scurrying away to meet her Romeo who belonged to her rival's clan. But the modern-day Romeo lived in a place where rag pickers were his counterparts. With so few people strutting on the street, peace accompanied me all through the way. The surroundings shone with a palette of orange hues, covering the upkeeps of the dirty neighborhood.

The feverish feeling took birth as I pulled up my car near the run-down building. Carefree as I had been, I tossed a pink gum in my mouth and jumped off the car without bothering to open its door.

The white paint started to chip away from the stumped walls of a building and also had wires sloped against it. Acquainted to the smallest detail, I remarkably placed my feet onto the dried surface and avoided the small patches of fetid water as I took to the flights.

I knew his place better than he would know himself.

Upon ramming my heels on the gunky doormat, I saw a red bucket placed underneath a tap that leaked water in a thin string, and sachets of detergent lying around the wet surface.

The door was slightly open and I kept my keen eye for him. Relief traded with pressure as I saw him sitting on the carpeted floor with his naked back clung against the canapé. A bowl perched in his hands. His head hanging down as if he was dozing off.

"Poor Tae must be tired." I tried to hold my emotion, as I pushed the door to announce my presence. "Tada!"

He jolted with joy and while replying flecks of liquid spurted out of his pouted mouth. "Princess, you are here! I jus-"

But as soon as he got up to put on a shirt, I crushed my body into him and the cold curd steeped my shirt. "Ew! That's tacky. I need to change." I pulled away with embarrassment rising to my cheeks.

"Mishaps and Hanuel go hand in hand," he retorted and threw a shirt over.

"I'm so proud of myself that nobody on this damn earth could copy me." I flipped my hair and my lips upturned with gay-laden mischief. I watched him shaking his head as he extended his hand to get a sky-blue button-up that was hanging on the arm of the sofa.

"Go ahead."

"You don't get to see that." I got up, pushing his head to the side, my heeled feet stamped onto his. He must have winced, but never permitted it on the surface.

"Right then, let me see what I can . . ." He stirred, sounding narrowly dejected.

Not a minute had passed, I could hear the TV producing a buzzing sound from the kitchen, and also him uttering a few incoherent words. "Aish . . . not again . . . showing its true colors."

I returned and slumped on the mini-cabriole sofa, sticking the gum on the back of the sofa, forced out of habit. He hit both of his fists onto the TV set like a drummer, and a persistent line etched between his bushy eyebrows.

"This formula won't work." I drawled in between taking spoonfuls of his peppered curd. "There's a big LCD in my Dad's room, I've told you this like thousand times; it's fixed there and nobody uses it." I walked up to him and squatted near him. "Give me a green signal baby, and bam we will great time watching movies without screwing our eyes. Learn to get with the times." I gave a peck on his ear and returned to that sofa.

Taehyung was smarter than people projected him, because he switched to a predictably sensitive topic, "Oh, and how's your Dad?"

"Dad is convalescing in London. Look, I just forgot that I had to call him. I'll give you that buddy." I pointed an index finger at him and winked. The second later, my eyes closed tight as I subdued in the silence that made me look pinched and dehydrated like a malnourished child. I wondered if Taehyung would love to know how tensed I was.

"Anytime. I shall get a snack for you."
He proceeded on with quick steps to his obscurely small kitchen.

He came back and shoved a container of rice crackers in my face. I gaped at his hunched back, sitting with folded legs as he was changing the battery of the remote, utterly dedicated to the task at his hands.

I munched on and stared at the ducting ceiling. "She rejected all of them."

"Hmm, did you ever ask if she's in love with someone? Like you should."

"I don't know." My head remained in the same position, except my lips that chanted the emotional lines, "Tae, all I know is that I can't live without you.  I'm sick of pulling wool over Uncle Mojo's eyes just to come here to meet with you. I think God would cut off my tongue if I continue to lie to him. My life is full of fears; what if this rich-poor divide impels you to change your mind and you start seeing another girl-"

"Hello? Hello?" He stopped me, raising his hand. "I've crossed the age of five decades ago. I remember my home address very well."

"No. You don't," I prompted furiously. "In Seoul, clusters of whore breeds in their nooks. They travel around and easily extract the information of simple-minded, rural boys like you. Just as you take your time to wrap things around your head, they have already destroyed you by wrapping their prosthetic legs between your head and starts blackmailing you."

He let out a hearty laugh. "Movies or news? What medium taught you this?"

"It might have come like a shock to you, but that is what happens outside these walls," I replied coldly.

He coughed to regain his voice and wagged a finger at me. "But, I'm not a simple-minded, rural boy anymore. All credit goes to you for teaching me about love. Mean girl, you have morphed me into a dauntless man the day we slept together for the first time. Remember?" He cocked his head to the side slowly.

"We were quite ahead in our approach to love." I rolled my eyes as my cheeks turned crimson. "It wasn't my first time tho," I observed in a quelled tone and turned to throw a wit at the man, "Look boy, don't call me a mean girl. I tend to take words quite seriously."

He left everything at once and pushed me to sit up as he placed his legs on either side of my thighs and pulled me to his chest. In all this, I couldn't help my laughter. I comfortably attached my ear to the muscly chest, his heartbeats increased the rush in my veins. "Tae, don't you think you should get a dissertation? Like a degree or diploma course?"

"Haneul-ah, when people turn 24, their horizon broadens. They want to stand out in different light and start to think about ways by which they could live an independent life. Financed by their cash. Without the family support system. He doesn't sit with books unless he wanna become a  doctor, lawyer, or a civil servant." The featherlike touch of his fingers caressing on the small of my back was so close to making anyone fall into a deep slumber.

"Uncle Mojo has some contacts in private educational institutes. If I tell him that my friend wants a direct admission, he would surely do something in this regard."

"C'mon Haneul. Why do you always bring this up?"

"Nobody will welcome you with a garland around your neck if you don't stop working as a petty chauffeur. I've heard a lot on this today," I screeched the fact with confidence, swatting hands in the air.

"Don't sweat, Hanuel. I'm a rich man. In a way. I've got a farm in my father's name. Now it's a different thing that I'll have to wait until his death. Also, the truth is that it will be apportioned among my siblings, so . . . I'll get one third." His voice lowered down so that I could refer to that as a mumble and go past it.

Never did he find the idea of chasing big money as the only means of survival. He had been promoting the motto of 'minimalism in everything, minimalism is everything.' And, I too translated my weakness for luxurious amenities to embracing a simple lifestyle. But how could I explain this to Uncle Mojo, who was a public-image-freak?

I opened my mouth for a couple of seconds and thrust my legs in the air as I assorted to reprimanding him. "Do you even see these dark circles? Doesn't that force you to enquire about it?"

"Fine. Why are you sleeping this late?" He exasperated and curled his lips, as his hands glued across his chest. "Any late-night shows addiction?"

"Stop joking," I thundered, reacting to the cumulative data boiling inside of my head. "It's because I'm making fucking plans at night and employing strategies as to how to get Molan settled with a man first. So, that I could put my love life as the topic of table talk!" I braced my fists on my hips while glaring down at him.

Taehyung let out a breathe, staring into my eyes with pure amazement.
There was biting silence that kept us from interacting. My shoulders shook. I filled the air in the lungs seeing him get up like a lion sneakily moving ahead to slaughter his prey. That is me. "I love you."

The tension escalated, however, I stayed immobile.

Suddenly I didn't realize when his hands cupped my face and he locked his eyes on my lips and eyes. The two spots were set to melt under his burning gaze.

His duality never failed to take me by surprise. Frankly speaking, I had striven to achieve his dormant animal in the earlier phase of our dating when he used to jump five feet in the air with the thought of removing his clothes in front of me.

His lids didn't even close until I saw bleakness washing over my eyes. Soft as the pat of butter, I allowed his lips to grind against mine and he continued teasing me like that until I took the lead.

"Mmm . . . you didn't say you love me." I arrested his wrists and his motion became as still as my icy glare.

"Of course, I do."

I turned him around and pushed him on the spot that was still warm, impulsively.

He laid back in his loose gray half-pants whose waistband didn't look quite tight, I thought it rendered my work easier.

I got on top of him, pushing his oily bangs back as I couldn't get enough of his beautiful forehead he always hid by his hair bangs. He was raw. His skin color was like the sands of Arabian desserts─── honeyed and grainy, and eyes so innocent that I could a small kid peeping through. Sometimes, I repented that I was taking away his childlike innocence, in terms of making him a hot and dapper boy.

His hands caught my hips as I cradled him. "To me, you are not suffering as much as I'm."

He hoisted to reach midway, resting his weight on his elbows. "I don't know how is it coming out, but this man," he placed a finger on his chest lightly, "Is a sensitive human too. Not a minute passes in a day I stop thinking about us," he replied in the same heated tone.

Oh boy.

My hands reached the back pocket of my jeans and I turned off my phone.

Sorry, Uncle Mojo, I wasn't planning to do this.

A/n

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Aren't they such a cute (or🔥) couple?

(note: Kim Taehyung is 23 yrs old)