𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 | 𝐊- 𝐏𝐎𝐏

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗑

Chapter 17: Private Showing

"Go play with your friends Chinsun, it's almost time to go home." She sends the little girl away from the table and he exhales deeply, relieved. He isn't sure why he doesn't want to reveal who he is yet. He knows he has to be himself, and he has to confront this sooner or later, but he has enjoyed the anonymity with her. She turns to him, disregarding what the child had said.

"It is almost time for dismissal." She sets her teacup down. He wants to stay with her.

"I've come to see the art work, at your invitation," he says, hoping to prolong his visit. She looks at him confused. "The card. You invited me to see the children's art they created with the kits," he explains. She smiles suddenly making the connection.

"The kits were from you?" He nods and she grins at him, her eyes sparkling. "I didn't realize! Yesterday, you didn't mention it." He shakes his head.

"It wasn't important who they were from, but the shop owner gave me your card and I am curious to see what the children made." She studies him, smiling deep in a private thought he desperately wishes she would share. She leans in and touches the top of his hand with her soft fingers, sending an electric charge through his body.

"Thank you. You can't know how much it means to the children to have the all the pencils and paints and the beautiful paper. The kits were a perfect choice." She smiles at him, leaving her hand on his for a long moment. He wants to grab hold of her and not let go. She sits back, removing her hand but still looking at him curiously.

"I think what you are doing here is essential, and I'm very glad to be able to help." He's happy that he managed to get the words out, feeling his heart in his throat.

"I'll need to get the children ready to go home." She stands, regarding him. "But stay." She smiles sweetly down at him. He smiles back up at her, nodding, his pulse quickens. He's excited at the idea of getting time with her, time alone.

***

When the last child has gone off home with a waiting parent, she returns to the garden to find him still sitting at the table, deep in his own thoughts. She smiles and begins to gather the cups and plates into a tub.

"I'll just be a moment, I want to take these into the kitchen. I hope I'm not keeping you too long." He stands to help her gather the china into the tub.

"I have all the time in the world." He thinks about how true it is. He has nothing but time for this, nothing could be more important to him, but he wonders if someone is at home waiting for her. "I hope I won't keep you here too late, you may have to get home," he suggests. She shakes her head.

"I have a typical Friday night planned, a quick bite for dinner followed by a long night of studying." Dinner, she mentioned dinner, could he invite her to dinner? he wonders. She turns to carry the tub into the classroom and he grabs the tablecloth off the table and follows after her.

"You study art?" She looks back surprised. "The school website said you were studying Art History at Seoul National University," he explains. "Art is very important to me, I wish I had been able to study formally," he admits, with a hint of regret in his voice.

"It's my passion. Well, one of them." He follows her into the small kitchen and she sets the tub in the sink. "I will let these soak so the children can wash them, they enjoy washing dishes, and being helpful, of course the bubbles are fun too." She winks at him, sending a shockwave through his body as she dries her hands on the cloth nearby.

She takes the tablecloth from his hands, touching his fingers as she clasps the fabric to fold it up. He blushes a little and looks up to see if she's noticed. He wonders if she can sense that his gaze lasts a little too long, and his face is flushed with the blood coursing through his body as his pulse quickens. "The new artwork is in the back hallway, where the children's lockers are."

She turns to walk out of the room and he moves quickly to stay close behind her. They round the corner to a part of the hallway he has yet to see and the walls are lined with small wooden cabinets, with room for slippers underneath in various soft pastel colors. Above each locker is a clip on the wall, and a colorful piece of artwork is proudly displayed. He steps past her to examine the children's work. Smiling to himself at all the creative efforts of children so tiny, so innocent.

"These are very good," he says, looking over a few.

"Yes, they are all little Van Goghs, they just needed the right tools." He turns back to see she is admiring the work on the walls. She steps closer to him and points to one. "This one," he can feel her breath against his neck she's so close to him. She points at a drawing of a little boy with a dog, in what appears to be a farmer's field, with a tractor in the far distance. The sun is shining brightly above them. "This little boy hasn't spoken more than a few words to anyone here since he moved to the city from his grandmother's farm after her death." He looks back at the drawing, touched at the story behind it. "This one has my whole heart," she says softly.

He turns back to her, stunned by her words and he stares at her as she looks at the artwork, tears wet her eyes making them glisten in the dim light of the little room. How can she be real? he wonders to himself. He is so close to her that he could lean over just a few inches and kiss her lips, if he let himself. A quiet tapping at the door interrupts them and they both turn to see Mrs. Lee standing in the hallway behind them.

"Miss Wright, I have to leave to visit a friend who is unwell. I don't think you should take the bus home on a Friday evening. Perhaps Mr. Kim could give you a ride home?" She raises an eyebrow at him and he blushes, wishing she hadn't mentioned it and at the same time pleased that she's opened the door for him.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly trouble you." She looks over at him surprised and embarrassed. He shakes his head.

"It's no trouble." He turns back to Mrs. Lee. "Thank you, I would be happy to take Miss Wright home."

"Thank you, you have been too kind." Miss Wright says, looking back at him. He isn't sure, but he thinks she blushes as she nods. Mrs. Lee excuses herself to leave and they smile awkwardly at each other. He is certain there is no sick friend, he is sure she has made an effort to give them just a bit more time, and he is so grateful.