Playing with Heart

Dinner with my friends! (M)

My vacation didn't unfold as I had hoped; not even the pristine snow could beautify the canvas of my life. For two weeks, I confined myself within the walls of my apartment, resisting the persuasions of my friends. The room's confines became suffocating. Gazing at the ceiling, the imagery betrayed me, morphing into the features of a familiar, beloved face—hers. A chain of nocturnal dreams, replaying the moments when we were together, persisted whenever I closed my eyes. That unforgettable night, with its indelible memories, resurfaced relentlessly. My body hadn't healed from her kisses and touches, and my ears still echoed with the rhythm of her sighs and moans. No matter how hard I tried, resistance seemed futile. It had etched itself too deeply into me.

"As I warned, after the New Year break, I'll be rigorously questioning, especially those who take my subject. So, you have a couple of minutes for a quick review of the homework paragraph."

"Since when did she start calling us to the board again?" Siyeon complained, hastily flipping through the textbook pages.

"Probably, she didn't have a good night," I said, casting a sly glance at the teacher, rewarded immediately with a mutual gaze. "I feel like I'll be the sacrifice this time. Relax and don't bother studying," I added, addressing Siyeon.

While everyone energetically read the paragraph, I calmly sat at my desk, staring out of the window. I could still feel the teacher's scrutinizing gaze, and soon enough, my name echoed in the classroom. The classmates breathed sighs of relief, but I had to approach the board. I walked to the center of the room with deliberate steps, not to delay time but to observe her reaction, to be under the target of her gaze.

"Well, start; we're listening attentively," she said quietly, turning to face me. Her expression didn't betray any signs of distress over what had happened. She was so beautiful that she seemed out of place against the backdrop of this dull, gray existence. Surely, everything was in order for her: no more disturbances with late-night messages and calls, and no confessions of love from unexpected corners. Everything had returned to its place, resuming the contours of monotonous reality.

Miss Jiu continued to gaze at me intently, occasionally lowering her head and then, as if apologizing, enveloping me again with her eyes. The classroom was shrouded in complete silence, as if anticipating a sharp turn of events. I stood there silently, still trying to break free from the captivity of those hazel eyes. Finally, the teacher said:

"I understand; we won't manage without a poster. Alright, come with me; let's search for it. And, kids, your task is to write a paragraph independently. I'll be collecting your notebooks," she announced as she left the classroom.

The class hummed with activity, and everyone started working on their assignments. I had no option but to follow the teacher. Entering the laboratory, I heard the door slam behind me. Turning around, I saw my teacher standing before me – my woman. From her tense expression, I gathered that the conversation wouldn't revolve around protein biosynthesis, but something entirely different. Putting the key in her pocket, miss Jiu finally spoke:

"Yoohyeon, I..."

"Alright, where do you keep the posters? Let's find them; the students are waiting," I interrupted her. I knew the conversation would be challenging, and the right thing to do was to let her speak, but the unresolved tension was my only hope. Now, I feared she would finally put an end to it.

"Yoohyeon, listen. I..."

"Don't worry; we'll find everything we need now," I interrupted her again, but not for long.

"Just listen to me for once!" the woman shouted.

It would be foolish to try avoiding the conversation again, so I gave in.