Surprise!

Landing - Part 4

Rated NC17

Se-ri

The flight was interminable. Mu-hyeok had been restless since he'd woken at 5am. He didn't want to be held, he wanted to crawl and touch everything. So she'd had to lie on the plush carpet of the Gulfstream G650 to keep an eye on him as he explored under all the seats, investigated the two bathrooms, pulled at the electronic window blinds, punched every blinking light and trailed the flight attendants. When she'd blocked his route to the plane door and then to the cock pit his little mouth had puckered up and he'd bawled as though he were being tortured. Se-ri had made faces and tickled him, her mother had tried to read him a story, her father had sung to him, but he was in a contrary mood. When the air pressure fluctuations upset his little ears he'd bawled even louder.

Despite his cries, despite her exhaustion, when the pilot announced they'd be starting their descent to Bern airport energy zinged through her. She nipped into the bathroom to wash her face, retie her hair and apply a light layer of foundation and lip gloss. When she emerged she found the plane had broken through the clouds to reveal a clear Swiss afternoon. She couldn't help smiling as she coaxed Mu-hyeok back into his seat. The second the runway wheels bumped the tarmac she was up and ready to disembark. Her good mood seemed to infect her son because he let her unsnap his seat belt and lift him out without a trace of his earlier grouchiness. Instead he clung to her, all smiles and affability.

"It seems he knows his father is nearby," her father grumped, still undecided about the North Korean soldier who'd knocked up his daughter and left her to raise a child alone.

Se-ri was too wired to respond. She clutched Mu-hyeok and stood impatiently as one of the flight attendants disarmed the plane door. It opened to a cool breeze, the scent of flowers, and gentle sunshine.

Jeong-hyeok stood at the bottom of the aircraft stairs. He wore a white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, a black leather jacket, dark blue jeans over his long long legs and white sneakers. Dark shades covered his eyes. His ink black hair was parted and styled in a way that was both casual and runway-model sexy.

He smiled. Se-ri's heart skipped several beats. The purr of the plane engine, the voices of the flight attendants, the cry of wheeling birds overhead, Mu-hyeok's quiet babble – everything faded into the distance. For a moment there was just him.

"Umma!" Mu-hyeok kicked his legs impatiently. The world tumbled back into existence. She drew a deep breath reconnecting with her body.

"Sorry Hyeoky!" She murmured. She began to descend the stairs. She kept her eyes on her feet, wary of being sucked back into the magnetic pull of Jeong-hyeok's presence. She was nearly at the bottom when a hand touched her elbow, supporting, guiding, reassuring.

She didn't look up until her feet touched the tarmac. And then it was up up up past his wide chest, his long tanned throat, his full lips – smiling – his broad nose until she was staring into the brown softness of his eyes. It was like drowning, tumbling off a cliff edge, deep deep into him.

A hand reached up to brush his cheek. When she felt the softness of his skin beneath her fingertips she realized the hand was hers. He pressed his fingers against the back of her hand, holding her palm against his cheek.

Tenderness rolled through her. His smile deepened.

His eyes left hers and fixed on the child in her arms. Mu-hyeok was studying his father with wide-eyed attention.

"Hi Mu-hyeok."

Jeong-hyeok's gentle baritone settled over Se-ri like balm. She looked down to see Mu-hyeok's reaction. He was usually shy of strangers but he stared curiously up at this new man. It was a good sign.