Even After You Die

FIVE

A terrible habit I've had for the longest time is nodding my head to music when there isn't a song playing. When I was a kid, my dad would get after me for it all the time.

"Get your head out of fantasy land!" he would scold. "NOTHING'S PLAYING!"

But despite his harsh words and yelling, I haven't managed to get the notes out of my head and stop my body from enjoying the pleasant melodies of my imagination.

Standing in front of the wall-length window, staring out into the city of Seoul, I can't help but piece the auditory senses together. The drum of Haneul's shower, the hum of the electricity, and the moaning nightlife of the city. There's a feeling of being burnt out but containing a hint of hope, yet it hasn't decided if the hope is in vain or not.

I cross my arms firmly over my chest as I sway in front of the window. I should probably get to bed so I can sleep through the jetlag. Or at least do something productive like watch a video to improve my Hangul*.

The bathroom door clicks and I hear footfalls make their way into the small kitchen area. I move to sit on a barstool next to the counter and watch as Haneul pours me a glass of water and then himself one.

"There's two beds," I say as he drinks. "Which one do you want?"

He downs the whole glass with a sigh and sets the cup in the sink. I have to say, with wet hair, a loose robe, and plaid pajama bottoms, Haneul looks a lot less intimidating. Maybe even more handsome than he is in his formal work attire.

I blink my thoughts away and swirl the remaining water in my glass.

He switches off the light and almost floats into the small living area where the couch is. "You can choose. I don't care."

"Uh, the beds are in the other room." But he's already sitting down.

"Are you saying you're comfortable with me sleeping in the same room as you?" He raises a doubtful but hopeful eyebrow, hands propped on his knees.

"Duh." I flick my hand to appear indifferent but I'm shaking.

He stands, not buying it, and probably about to say something snarky about me not trusting him as a gentleman or something.

"If you don't hurry, I'll pick the one near the window," I throw at him before he has a chance to open his mouth. I make sure he's following me just before darting into the bedroom, slipping into the bed next to the curtain-closed window.

"Too late!" I throw the covers over my face. "The quick bird gets the nest."

"That is not a saying." I hear him sit down on the other bed.

"It is now." I wiggle around to get into the most comfortable position and pull down the sheets ever so slightly so I can peek through with my eyes.

He's already in bed, eyes closed and hands over chest.

"Renae, I swear if you're gonna pull that crap on the flight all over again I'm gonna hide the cookies."

***

I sit in the hospital lobby skimming through a beauty magazine I absolutely cannot read as Haneul speaks with his grandfather's doctor. I turn back to the magazine. Men in Korea wear makeup too. I wonder if Haneul wears makeup?

Obviously, I've never seen him in something as bold or extravagant as the k-pop idols, but he might still apply bb-cream. I've heard that a lot of guys in Korea after they serve their term in the army pay more attention to their skincare. And Haneul has very good skin, so he probably does do something to keep it healthy.

The doctor bows and retreats into the elevator. Haneul returns the gesture and glides over to sit next to me.

"He's not expected to be awake until late this evening." He crosses his arms, referring to his grandfather.