This Burns My Heart Page 0,26

stared at it. Though he did not speak, his eyes looked full of admiration. He rolled the rice paper with great care and placed it inside his bag.

“I sense my advice is unwelcome. Maybe I should go now,” said Yul, a hint of sadness on his face.

Soo-Ja did not want him to go just yet, and watched with disappointment as he headed out of the classroom and into the chatter of the street, now bustling with night students and teachers about to go home. But as Yul made his way out, Soo-Ja quickly realized that his expensive leather shoes—which he’d left by the steps immediately outside the door, as per custom—were gone. Soo-Ja’s were still there, but Yul’s had been replaced with a cheap pair of random sandals.

Soo-Ja was mortified. If Yul’s shoes had been stolen, then, in the eyes of an observer, it was her fault. For that hour, while she had been with him, she’d been responsible for his well-being. She’d been the host, and therefore was accorded some privileges, but also responsibilities. Besides, she was the one who had suggested meeting at her school and initially had them stay in the empty, unguarded classroom. Soo-Ja knew he knew all this, and that, right at that moment, she was about to lose face.

But much to Soo-Ja’s surprise, Yul simply smiled and placed the sandals on his feet, as if nothing had happened and those were really his own shoes. When he saw Soo-Ja staring at him, he told her, “Oh, I just ran out of the house late this morning and didn’t notice what I wore on my feet. Anyway, thank you for the drawing lesson. I’m very glad I got to see you again.”

Soo-Ja nodded, touched by his kindness. He had not wanted to embarrass her. Standing up, Soo-Ja gathered her art materials and made her way out of the classroom.

Just as she was about to go home, however, Soo-Ja felt Yul place his hand on her left arm. He touched her lightly, as if she were a flower. Soo-Ja’s body turned back in his direction, and her senses felt sharper, keenly aware of the region of her arm that Yul had just touched. She felt the air grow warmer as he drew closer to her, his breath soon almost within her reach. Yul gazed at her with his lips apart, but no words came out of his mouth. He looked as if he had practiced a million things to say, but he was now discarding them one by one. Soo-Ja could tell, as his face changed expressions, what each of those opening lines were—she could see as they fell to the ground—a confession, an apology, a request. She wanted to pick them up, one by one, and cradle them in her arms, lest they be the last thing she had from him again.

“Don’t marry Min,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ears. “Marry me instead.”

Soo-Ja felt the entire world grow silent, and the only thing she could hear was her own heart, beating fast. She looked at Yul, startled, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Soo-Ja felt as if she had gone mute. Words failed her like broken clocks, trains without rails. Here it was, happiness, offering to dance with her, calling her nicknames, jaunty and giddy, leading her to a bed of hyacinths.

As if pained by her silence, Yul pressed his forehead against hers and took her hand into his.

“Let me build a house for you near the mountains, nestled in a valley filled with groves of mulberry trees.” Yul spoke so tenderly that Soo-Ja could not help but close her eyes. “I will make sure it rests on fertile and healthy soil, so we can plant a garden and watch the azaleas rise in the spring, and pluck the red dates from the branches. I will have the house face south, so it’ll get plenty of light year-round, even in winter, and while everyone else in town shivers, you will stay warm in your room, reading a book, wrapped in a blanket made of the finest lambskin. The house will always smell of jasmine tea and beds of chrysanthemums, and every room will be decorated according to your own whims. We will have a room for you to spend in serious contemplation, another one where you could craft very long, elaborate jokes shared only with me, and a third one where you could draw and paint and practice calligraphy.”

The vision made her