Bookshelf | Kang Mira

"Do you think we can return him to his family?"

Sarang mumbles over my shoulder as she peers through the window. Both of our eyes were glued on the people at the front yard; the mysterious boy is dwindling on the grass with his dog and having a deep conversation with Yeonjun and his brothers. Beomgyu and Soobin look genuinely concerned and has its traces written over their faces, while Yeonjun covers it away and talks as if he has known the boy for years.

"If I'm told to be honest, I sincerely do not know." I scratch my nape before resting my chin above my palms. "He lost his way back in January, didn't he say that?"

"Yes. But such a poor boy, having to deal with such a trauma." Sarang sighs and slumps down beside me. "I would not prefer having such crisis at the age of ten like him."

"You don't get to choose your destiny, do you?" my eyes flicker over her way before turning back to the male who is supposedly my husband. "None does."

"But you surely get to control it, don't you?" Sarang doesn't let the topic rest. "If he didn't let go of his mother's hands in that fair, he probably could have avoided that accident."

My back falls over the bed as I sprawl out my body and sigh deeply. "This is why you are a girl, Sarang. And I'm a woman."

"Don't you pull your senior card on me!"

"Huh, be a woman, be a woman." I hum while twirling my hair with my fingers. "Being a girl means nothing in this world; people would never appreciate your chastity, diligence and honesty."

"Why are you turning so sulky now?" Sarang's brows crease. "You sound like my mother. Dumping advices any moment she can."

"I do? Maybe I do..." my voice loses its depth, turning into a more playful tone. "Yes, maybe..."

"Oi oi, don't tell me you lost your head over yesterday's night!" Sarang speaks in a terrified voice, and a secons later, she hovers on top of my face, her eyes bulging out, mouth hanging lopsided. "Yes, you did." she confirms her suspicion as I give her a zoned out look. "You definitely lost every single thing that is called yours, didn't you?"

Lost? No.

I found someone. Someone to call mine.

"You're starting to get weird." Sarang's eyes are about to burst out, as she watches me trace my finger over my lips, my eyelashes fluttering, the laces of my dress moving over the sheets, the gap between my legs closing, a sigh leaving my mouth. I can see him. Only him. None else. None else ever mattered.

Sounds of footsteps can be heard behind the open door. Sarang jumps up to her feet, rushing over my to tug down my dress below my knees, her gaze panicked. "Now for heaven's sake, keep your dress in place-"

"Can we enter?"

I turn over and peer at the visitor, feeling my breaths vanish as my gaze lingers on the tall man. Yeonjun stands behind the door, slightly crouched to the front, his hands on the doorframe, monolid eyes burning sapphires like every other times.

"Yes, yes, sure..." Sarang nods and switches back to her place. Yeonjun enters the room and finds his spot on a corner of the bed, and his brothers follow his suit.

"We have decided to keep Nizi with us," Beomgyu announces in an apprehensive tone, not sounding much pleased. Soobin frowns at him. "Nizi doesn't want to stay, but it really wouldn't be moral for us to let a child roam on the streets all by himself. And most importantly, mother wants to take him to her."

"Mother? Why?" I ask while looking to Yeonjun with confusion. He smiles gently, but the sigh that leaves his mouth doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"She feels alone in her mansion, and Beomgyu wouldn't live with her. Soobin also likes staying here. We told her about Nizi and she sounded very keen to take care of him, so we are letting her to do that. Nizi leaves next week."

Beomgyu and Soobin seem slightly abashed when Yeonjun says that. The first male doesn't even try to hide the disappointed look on his face.

That makes me think what's the real matter between them and their mother.

Yeonjun leaves his seat and sits next to me, his warm hands slipping into mine and holding them lightly. His lips start to move, my eyes driving to them. "Are you fine, Mira?"

"Very much." I mumble back, tearing my gaze away from his lips. Oh, how soft they felt last night, like melting into my own, tasting like honey and sugar, so sweet, so sweet, the feeling knocks the air out of my lungs, he tasted so sweet, so home, so much sweet that my teeth would sting, and his lips were all over mine again--

"Mira?"

I force my chant to snap in the middle, and fix my gaze at the wall. Someone laughs in the room. I can't even fathom who was that.

"If you are free, can you... come to my room?" Yeonjun asks after a cough. My head jerks back at him instantly.

His ears have turned red, a lot red, and I can almost feel the heat radiating from his cheeks because of his shy and submissive look. My heart manages to skip a beat at him trying to look anywhere but at me. I ignore the blasted look in the eyes of people around us.

"Why not?" my voice sounds so confident, so foreign, so sultry at this point- and I have no idea that how this is happening. "When should I-"

"After lu-lunch?" Yeonjun stutters visibly, and coughs again to bring his tone back. Maybe he is trying to hide the fact how much eager he has sounded right now.

"Sure..."

"I have something left to do." Sarang pipes up suddenly, before grabbing a fistful of her long dress and scurrying out of the room.

"I'm hungry, I need to eat." Beomgyu lets the words slip through his hanging mouth before he vanishes out of sight.

"Me too, me too." Soobin doesn't even try to hide his blush, turning back and rushing away.

"Well, that makes things easier, doesn't it?" the shy tone in Yeonjun's voice is gone, and his eyes turn mischievous in a span of seconds. "I hope you can help me with the trouble I'm having since last night."

"This is the trouble you were talking about?"

Not hiding the disappointment in my voice, I spit back unabashedly. Yeonjun stares at me with an innocent look.

"Why, can't I get help to sort out my books?"

He indicates at the pile of books dumped all over the floor, and an empty bookshelf beside him. My eyebrows irk upwards.

"Well, if you don't want to help, I won't force you..." a pout forms on his lips as he leans his back against the mountain of books behind, his long legs sprawled over the dusty floor. "I will just ask the maids..."

"Get started." I sigh, leaving the doorframe and entering the room. Unlike mine, Yeonjun's room is rather smaller, but feels so- home. Curved vases on the rectangular tables at the left side, white tablecloths smoothened over the surfaces, pale blue curtains beside the windows, a brown duvet laid over the untouched bedsheets.

"Here." before I can look around more, Yeonjun pulls me down by my hand, and dumps a stack of books on my lap. "Let's start working!"

Oh, oh.

When he said he needed help, I certainly did not think it to be this. Yeonjun does most of the work, no, he does all of the work; he swiftly goes through the lebelled books, arranges them neatly on the shelves, putting some aside, bringing some in. He does the work and insists me to stand beside him all the time.

"No, please, let me do that." my countless attempts have turned futile, severely. Yeonjun lifts up a pile of books, shaking his head and pushing me aside lightly.

"Then why did you ask me to come even?" I state in an exasperated voice. I can see him watching me through the corners of his eyes, a warm and graceful smile forming on his lips not much later.

"I only wanted to see you, Mira."

There goes my stupid heart, again.

Stop, stop, my heart muses, and I try to stop it, but my heart breaks the bounds, crosses the limits, shakes my existence. Those six words, sounded so right, as if I was meant to hear them from the start, and by having it at last, I suddenly don't know how to respond. 

"Your presence calms me a lot." Yeonjun stops in the middle way while placing a book on the shelf, his fingers pressed on the leather cover as he breathes deeply. His eyes don't find mine. "I don't know how, and I never knew I needed it. And now that I have it, I can't let it go."

He pushes the book forward, his lips slightly parted. "I need you beside me, Mira. So I can watch you, watch you, watch you all over again. And never get tired."

Tears branch out behind my eyes, before stinging down my cheeks. I rush forward, latching my arms around Yeonjun's neck, the scent of his lavender cologne hitting my nose for a fraction of second. Now I get it, he always smelled like home. A home which I can dream in my sleep. A home that doesn't come with a huge mansion, or a garland of roses. A home that exists only within a certain person. It was him, all along.

Just like last night, his lips taste so sweet, maybe sweeter, or the sweetest. They mold so perfectly with mine, too perfect, and feel like mine, only mine, my only. Yeonjun's back hits the bookshelf, heaven knows how many books rattled from the crash, or fell down, but we don't care, we never did. My body presses against him, the gap between us nonexisting, not needed, discarded away.

His fingers trace over my jawline, rising goosebumps all over my skin, my head and legs feeling light. He grasps my chin and raises it upward, my eyes flashing to his for a second, before he pulls away, breathing heavily, a thin layer of saliva trailing down to his lips.

His gaze is undescribable, almost foggy, but Yeonjun manages to break his trance, and speaks in a very clear voice while watching me pant heavily,

"If I start, I won't stop. So, give me your consent first."

"C-consent of what?" my chest rises up and down, and I don't miss the glaze in Yeonjun's eyes when they flicker over me. He pushes his fingers through his head roughly, as if trying to not lose his so called patience. His eyes dart to the ceiling.

"Consent, Mira." after a moment or two, Yeonjun looks down at me, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Consent to kiss you anywhere I fucking want."