The summer air suddenly weighed on her despite the setting sun. Like it pressed all of the humidity of Seoul onto her chest. Somin felt light-headed, her vision wavering as her ears began to ring. She thumped her fist against her chest as her lungs struggled to fill. She coughed, and it seemed to help as she sucked in a breath.
“Get yourself together, Lee Somin,” she told herself, taking two huge gulps of air. It helped.
Somin pushed away the strange feeling that still shivered down her spine and rang Junu’s doorbell. She counted out her breaths and had only gotten to thirteen when the door opened and Junu stood in front of her. He wore a simple outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He’d changed after the hospital, and his hair was a bit damp, like he’d taken a shower. A bead of water clung to a strand of hair. She watched it drip onto his shoulder. Had she ever noticed how broad his shoulders were before? Not too big, but they showed he had strength under his wiry frame.
“Somin-ah?” Junu said, and she realized they’d been standing in silence as she stared at him.
“Oh, sorry.” She cleared her throat, ready to launch into her monologue. “I just—”
“Do you want to come in?” Junu asked, and ruined her carefully practiced flow.
“What?”
“Why don’t you come in. I just started a kettle for tea.” He walked back inside. The door swung shut behind him, and Somin just caught it before it slammed in her face.
Had he done that on purpose? No, she wouldn’t dwell on this. She needed to be clearheaded, get her speech out, and leave once he agreed that the kiss had been a mistake. A lapse in judgment. It had been like an unspoken dare. One of Junu’s many games. And Somin was here to tell him the game had ended on a draw.
She made her way into the apartment, toeing off her shoes in the foyer. It was gleaming and spotless. The floors were cool under her feet. It felt nice and refreshing after the heat of outside.
As she walked down the hall, searching for the kitchen, a side room caught her eye. Inside was a giant, gleaming grand piano and shelves and shelves of books. She gaped at how many there were as she realized that every wall was covered in shelves.
Somin selected a book at random. It was a cookbook. The second was a collection of old European fairy tales. She flipped the pages to find elaborately illustrated pictures of fairies, mermaids, and witches.
The next book was about a boy wizard. It was written in English, so when she flipped it open, she couldn’t read it. But she recognized the cover art; any kid born in the last thirty years would know this story.
“That’s a first edition.”
She spun around, hugging the book tightly to her chest.
Junu stood in the doorway with two cups of steaming tea.
He set them on a table next to an armchair Somin hadn’t noticed. It looked well-used, like a person could spend hours in it without moving an inch.
“This room is so . . . cozy,” she said. “Different from what I’d imagine from you.”
“I like comfort, too,” Junu said with a shrug.
“I’ve always dreamed of having a library at home,” Somin said, glancing around at the towering shelves. “It just needs a fireplace and it would be perfect.”
“No fireplace,” Junu said firmly. “I hate fire.”
Such a strange fact. Especially for a dokkaebi. Somin remembered the stories of how a tall blue flame called dokkaebi fire heralded the arrival of some. Was that just a myth?
“I didn’t know you liked to read,” Somin said, placing the book back on the shelf.
“Who says I do?” Junu asked. “Many of these are collector’s editions, worth a lot of money.”
Somin tried to read him and failed. Then reached behind her and took out a battered secondhand edition of Howl’s Moving Castle. “And how much is this worth?” she asked, glancing at the heavily dog-eared pages. “Five hundred won?”
Junu grinned, comfortable in being caught in his lie. “I do enjoy a good book now and then. After all, I lived in a time before television. But you’re not here to inquire about my favorite ways to pass the time, are you?” Junu took a step toward her. If he took another one, he would be entering uncomfortably close territory. She could just smell his scent, a mix of shampoo and aftershave.