Anxiousness I (1/1)

It was the eighth evening sitting on the same bench he had found himself at since his last encounter, always at this time, with his face obscured by the hood of his jacket, and he could hardly realize that the air was too bitter for his skin, or that being so far away from what he had grown to call his home was not exactly safe for him; but then the short hand hit eight and the long stilled upon the four, and he waited with his gloved palms at his mouth, where the air that escaped his lips was warm, but nothing quite compared to the ember that lit up like a blaze when he caught sight of the one person he would suffer through this type of weather for.Her lower body hidden by long, brown boots, and he could see only her kneecaps because she was wearing a mid-thigh skirt tonight; and her torso was bloated with the size of her jacket, but he had never seen more of her skin, nor did he see himself ever having the opportunity, at least not during this freezing climate---and she was smiling, like she did every time she rounded the curve of the park's entrance.There were prettier women with happier smiles and thinner physiques. He'd seen them himself, although none of them were ever up to par.She would wrap her fingers around the neon green strands of her winter hat and pull it off while her eyes turned into bright hazelnuts, glowing, and her untamable hair would bounce in the air, uncontrolled as ever. From the distance, he watched as she pocketed her headwear, and he would keep watching, until the clock struck eight thirty.His gloves tightened around his skin.This was the call back to reality: when the other man appeared, and she lit up like the woman she was---a woman in love---and the man would wrap himself around her with a familiar timidity that made his insides turn raw, furious, and he knew he had no right because she was taken.Choi Minho was not obsessive, but he knew desire when he felt it. A wanting that urged him to fight for the young woman's attention because she had appeared out of nowhere, in good health and in high spirits, all wrapped in the exotic skin of foreign beauty, and she deserved someone like him, and no one else. He was the one who the girls threw themselves at; he had all the appeal of an athlete, with the mentality of a man---he could see no better match than he and her.Against his own logic, he had thrown all reason out of his mind, just to scheme out his life as if she were in it.The young man was taller than himself, foreign, with thick eyebrows and too thin of a figure; and he felt as if he were the thief that had stolen what he valued most, even though she had never been his in the first place.She had her hands pressed up against the man's jacket, and when he bent to kiss her, Minho looked away.For a moment, he forgot about them, about her, because a sudden vibration had shaken his anger---and when he took out his cell, he could still see them with their faces close together.He had expected them to linger in the afterglow of their timorous, secret exchanges.What he did not expect was to see those large almond-shaped eyes, glittering with affection, and her hands laced shyly, before him. She looked at him in her embarrassment, and it was surprising. Beside her, the young man stared down at Minho."Excuse us for interrupting," her smile always seemed to reach her eyes, he realized, "but we were wondering if you happened to know any tourist spotlights that you might recommend?"The young man at her side must have been over six feet by at least three inches. If his height had ever been a hindrance to his affections with the young woman, it was a clear advantage now---and he stood, tall and silent, with one arm around her waist, staring at Minho with the stare of a man who sought to protect the woman in his grasp at all costs.Minho was prepared to get to her, though---in fact, he was aware that this might have been the opening he had been imagining himself in for a while now.The cell in his hands went back into his pocket. Minho immediately stood up and bowed, politely, the hood of his jacket slipping back when he rose up, and gratification rose up in his expression when her eyes seemed to look at him in a different glow. He smiled and said perhaps not in his best English, "I could take you---" he glanced at her companion momentarily "---to a popular place I know about." As an afterthought, he added, "If you'd like."She looked at him curiously before turning to the man beside her and speaking in a language he had never heard up close before, "¿Como ves? Se ve como un buen muchacho. Pienso que podemos confiar en él, ¿o no?"The young man glanced at Minho for a moment. "No me gusta cómo te está viendo.""No seas celoso," she glanced at Minho and her cheeks lit with color when she took note of his charming features. "Es guapo pero no tan atractivo como tú."Her lover's face looked away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Although Minho could not follow their conversation, he realized they were talking about him.Suddenly, the young man turned to Minho and half-bowed. "My name's Tito and this is my girlfriend Alé." He straightened and then, awkwardly, smiled at him. "Well, you can just guide us, I guess." The smile was there, but his eyes were still scrutinizing him. Tito's arm went back around her waist, and he waited.Minho slipped to her left side and they all began walking to wherever he led them.If he had been relatively unaware of the wintry air before, it was definitely biting his skin now. The streets were unsurprisingly full of young people who were making the most of Seoul's cold autumn nights, and despite how perfect it felt to have her by his side, he wished it were in a place where their privacy could be ensured, where the lights weren't blinding his retinas, or the sounds of traffic deafening his eardrums; or where her real lover were nonexistent.Casually, he asked, "Do either of you speak Korean?"She looked at him and laughed. Her free hand went up in the air with the forefinger and thumb close together. "Only basic conversation," she replied in his tongue, but her accent was thick.Still, Minho smiled. "No, that was well-spoken," he insisted, and when her shy smile appeared on her face, he had to look away from the exquisite thrill he suddenly felt in his chest, although he realized that she was still staring at him.They rounded several corners in silence."You seem familiar to me," she commented eventually in her quiet voice after having had satisfied her gaze---because he was, undeniably, the most attractive citizen she had yet seen in this country.Minho continued smiling and looked at her strangely---but he did know that she had probably noticed him already; not necessarily on the bench he had been sitting at for the same time eight nights in the span of two weeks, but in a magazine, or on television; the posters his company had pasted throughout the city's walls during their promotions, even.His handsome eyes provoked a flustered look. For a moment, she went back into her silence, until she said something in that romantic language of hers that made Tito laugh suddenly."I can't believe I've been so rude," she mumbled beneath her breath, as if suddenly realizing something. Tito pulled away when she detached herself from him, and watched while she bowed in that perfect ninety degree angle that only she found comfortable; and neither he nor Minho missed the all-too-easy panty flash that slipped by in the rush of her movements.Instinctively, Minho's hand reached out toward her, which Tito did not miss, as if wanting to take her by the collar and pull her up straight, but he dropped it immediately, hanging in the sudden breeze that seemed to almost burn his skin, with his eyes wider than ever when he thought about all that cold air that could be riding up her legs.Tito laughed quietly to himself because only she could have decided to do this in the middle of the sidewalk without remembering she was wearing a skirt. Still, he had placed himself behind her."I haven't even asked for your name," she confessed guiltily, and when she found her posture, it had come as a sort of relief for the two young men."Right," Minho blinked and wondered what he should say. Her naivety had truly shocked him; perhaps she was just especially inclined to forget about little details.Bowing, he composed and introduced himself: "Choi Minho."They were all silent for a while. If they recognized him, they weren't showing it. Confidently, Tito broke the cold air by testing out the name, and his pronunciation was not as horrible as he had expected. Minho heard her saying his name as well, with her eyes staring curiously into his, and he realized that they weren't connecting the dots at all, but just trying out a name that they had never heard or spoken before.In the distance, he could see the building that he had, for a while, begun to call his second home, and one of the most famous enterprises of his nation."Min-ho," she repeated to herself, and Minho wanted to hear it whispered differently, but she could not have been any more unperceptive than the rest of the world of the thoughts that were running through his head.He wondered if he was really taking advantage of her being here with him, which he would have never thought would be happening just thirty minutes ago; yet there she was, still in her long, brown boots, looking as attractive as the first day he had seen her---two weeks ago in jeans and a bulging snow jacket---but now she was much closer, and it was difficult to be thinking that his effort s weren't enough because as much as he felt she belonged to him, she was already in love with the man whose arm curled so naturally around her waist, or so her eyes were telling the world whenever she looked at the tall, dark male, and breaking apart love was not as simple as Minho would have liked to believe.Laughing, he placed one of his hands at the back of his neck, and they continued walking with minimal conversation.When they reached the building, Minho spread out his hand to display the expanse of the property, showing them exactly where the main attractions were, at least the ones that were available to the public, with the tip of his finger."How do you know this place?" she asked him when he put his hand away.He smiled and shook his head from side to side. "Maybe I'll tell you about it another day," he suggested, and he knew he was risking a lot by inviting her like this in front of her boyfriend, but he could do nothing else to bring her closer.Tito stared at him but said nothing.She seemed to contemplate it, but after looking up again at the large expanse of buildings that spread as far as she could see, she nodded enthusiastically.Daringly, Minho slipped out from his pocket and placed a small plastic-covered placard in her hands. He let go of her and gave a small nod to the taller male whose eyes had become piercing by then, and backed away into the building, surprised with himself but self-confident as well, because he had just given her his identity card and it would only be a matter of time before she would be coming through these very doors he was slipping past with the intention of seeing him once more, if not, at least to tour this other world of his.The guards behind the counters looked at him as he walked across the marble floor with the poise of a satisfied twenty two year old male.Minho stood in front of the closed elevator doors and smiled.