Page 11
Story: Vicious Spirits
He took a step forward and every muscle in Somin’s body tensed, but she didn’t step back. She knew Junu’s type, and she knew he was bluffing. She refused to lose at this game.
“I’d say that I love everything about you. I love your hair.” He picked up a strand of her shoulder-length hair and let it sift through his fingers. She held her head rigid, the sight of his fingers a blur in the corner of her eyes. She refused to take her gaze from his. This was a game of wills, and hers was made of steel.
“I love your hands,” Junu said, picking one up. He studied it, letting a smile quirk the corner of his mouth. Somin searched for the mocking in the tilt of his lips, but instead he looked purely enamored as he let their fingers intertwine. He was good. But she wouldn’t be swayed by pretty words and quick smiles.
“I love your lips.” His eyes lifted again, landing on the new object of his faux affection. His hand tightened around hers, and his body moved closer. His eyes filled her vision. He tilted his head down. Her heart was sprinting at a breakneck speed. So fast it practically hummed in her chest. She wondered how it didn’t cause her whole body to vibrate. Or was it and she was just numbto it? Still she didn’t move. She waited as he brought his mouth within a centimeter of hers.
“I love everything you possess,” he said, his words breathed over her lips. “I’d like to possess it, too.”
Somin’s heart was racing, and she told herself it was the heat.
“You use the wordloveso selfishly,” Somin said.
And perhaps it was shock at her words, or perhaps it was him tiring of his own game, but Junu finally moved back. She’d won, though she didn’t feel the triumph that she wanted as her heart continued to sprint.
“Selfish?” Junu asked, letting her hand drop from his.
“You use it to mean you want to own a person. That’s a pretty selfish sentiment,” Somin said, thanking the gods that her voice came out smooth and calm. “You love what a girl has, not what she is.”
A silent beat passed before Junu threw his head back and let out a loud, guffawing laugh. “Oh, Lee Somin, you are definitely an opponent to be reckoned with.” Junu spoke in such an antiquated way. And worse, he sounded good doing it.
“Is it any wonder I look forward to our little sparring matches?”
“They’re not sparring matches. I genuinely hate you,” Somin said.
“Hate to love,” Junu said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Whatever Somin would have said in retort was interrupted by a gruff voice behind them. “This where Nam Soonboon lives?”
“Not anymore,” Somin said, turning around.
“Where’s my good-for-nothing son?” the man said, and Somin lifted a brow, surprised.
She only had a vague memory of Jihoon’s father. But she could tell the years hadn’t been kind to him. He was tall—it mustbe where Jihoon had gotten his height—but he hunched over like he hadn’t the energy to hold his frame up. He had thinning gray hair, a pockmarked face, and lines radiating from his squinting eyes. A cigarette hung from his fingers, still lit, as if he’d just pulled it from between his lips.
This was the last person Jihoon needed to see today.
“Not sure who you’re referring to, sir,” Junu said, his voice pleasant, but there was a spark in his eye. A sharpness that Somin had never seen in the dokkaebi before.
“Who the hell do you think my son is? That good-for-nothing ingrate who doesn’t even have the courtesy to pay any respects to his father in fifteen years.”
That was it. Somin couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. “Maybe he would have if he’d even known where you were.”
“Do I know you?” Mr. Ahn drawled as he glared at her.
“I’m Jihoon’s friend, and I’vebeenin his life for the past fifteen years.”
“Why, you little brat,” Mr. Ahn said, clenching his yellowed teeth.
Somin started forward, but Junu’s hand stopped her. It wasn’t restraining, but it served to get her to pause, to take a beat. For the first time ever, Somin was grateful that he was here or else she didn’t know what she’d say (or do) to Jihoon’s father.
“Well, seeing as this is the first time we’re meeting, I believe introductions are in order.” Junu held out a hand. “I’m Junu, and you are...?”
Mr. Ahn ignored him and turned to shout, “Ya, Ahn Jihoon! You come out and greet your father, you ungrateful boy.”
The door opened, and Jihoon stepped out. His expression was blank and cold. Except Somin knew him well enough to noticethe tic in his jaw. Miyoung stepped out as well, her eyes hard, like she was ready for a fight.
“What are you doing here?” Jihoon’s voice was low and clipped.
“I’d say that I love everything about you. I love your hair.” He picked up a strand of her shoulder-length hair and let it sift through his fingers. She held her head rigid, the sight of his fingers a blur in the corner of her eyes. She refused to take her gaze from his. This was a game of wills, and hers was made of steel.
“I love your hands,” Junu said, picking one up. He studied it, letting a smile quirk the corner of his mouth. Somin searched for the mocking in the tilt of his lips, but instead he looked purely enamored as he let their fingers intertwine. He was good. But she wouldn’t be swayed by pretty words and quick smiles.
“I love your lips.” His eyes lifted again, landing on the new object of his faux affection. His hand tightened around hers, and his body moved closer. His eyes filled her vision. He tilted his head down. Her heart was sprinting at a breakneck speed. So fast it practically hummed in her chest. She wondered how it didn’t cause her whole body to vibrate. Or was it and she was just numbto it? Still she didn’t move. She waited as he brought his mouth within a centimeter of hers.
“I love everything you possess,” he said, his words breathed over her lips. “I’d like to possess it, too.”
Somin’s heart was racing, and she told herself it was the heat.
“You use the wordloveso selfishly,” Somin said.
And perhaps it was shock at her words, or perhaps it was him tiring of his own game, but Junu finally moved back. She’d won, though she didn’t feel the triumph that she wanted as her heart continued to sprint.
“Selfish?” Junu asked, letting her hand drop from his.
“You use it to mean you want to own a person. That’s a pretty selfish sentiment,” Somin said, thanking the gods that her voice came out smooth and calm. “You love what a girl has, not what she is.”
A silent beat passed before Junu threw his head back and let out a loud, guffawing laugh. “Oh, Lee Somin, you are definitely an opponent to be reckoned with.” Junu spoke in such an antiquated way. And worse, he sounded good doing it.
“Is it any wonder I look forward to our little sparring matches?”
“They’re not sparring matches. I genuinely hate you,” Somin said.
“Hate to love,” Junu said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Whatever Somin would have said in retort was interrupted by a gruff voice behind them. “This where Nam Soonboon lives?”
“Not anymore,” Somin said, turning around.
“Where’s my good-for-nothing son?” the man said, and Somin lifted a brow, surprised.
She only had a vague memory of Jihoon’s father. But she could tell the years hadn’t been kind to him. He was tall—it mustbe where Jihoon had gotten his height—but he hunched over like he hadn’t the energy to hold his frame up. He had thinning gray hair, a pockmarked face, and lines radiating from his squinting eyes. A cigarette hung from his fingers, still lit, as if he’d just pulled it from between his lips.
This was the last person Jihoon needed to see today.
“Not sure who you’re referring to, sir,” Junu said, his voice pleasant, but there was a spark in his eye. A sharpness that Somin had never seen in the dokkaebi before.
“Who the hell do you think my son is? That good-for-nothing ingrate who doesn’t even have the courtesy to pay any respects to his father in fifteen years.”
That was it. Somin couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. “Maybe he would have if he’d even known where you were.”
“Do I know you?” Mr. Ahn drawled as he glared at her.
“I’m Jihoon’s friend, and I’vebeenin his life for the past fifteen years.”
“Why, you little brat,” Mr. Ahn said, clenching his yellowed teeth.
Somin started forward, but Junu’s hand stopped her. It wasn’t restraining, but it served to get her to pause, to take a beat. For the first time ever, Somin was grateful that he was here or else she didn’t know what she’d say (or do) to Jihoon’s father.
“Well, seeing as this is the first time we’re meeting, I believe introductions are in order.” Junu held out a hand. “I’m Junu, and you are...?”
Mr. Ahn ignored him and turned to shout, “Ya, Ahn Jihoon! You come out and greet your father, you ungrateful boy.”
The door opened, and Jihoon stepped out. His expression was blank and cold. Except Somin knew him well enough to noticethe tic in his jaw. Miyoung stepped out as well, her eyes hard, like she was ready for a fight.
“What are you doing here?” Jihoon’s voice was low and clipped.
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