My Songbird's Dream

38. To the memories

Early March, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Silver linings of the moon painted the room with an ethereal caress, casting a delicate sheen that seemed to shimmer and dance across the walls. Etta watched as Meiko guided a sleepy Daniel up the stairs to bed, the boy's small hand nestled trustingly in hers.

Etta tapped her left foot ever so slightly, the movement gentle and nearly imperceptible, gliding the pensive thoughts panning in her mind.

The past two days, while not entirely unusual, carried a certain weight of difference. Mi-sook had left early that morning to speak with Madame Nam, and Etta couldn't shake the gnawing intuition that something was amiss. Still, she held her silence, pressing her lips together gently as her brows knitted in contemplation.

Glancing up, Etta's gaze met Ji-tae's across the room, his dark eyes glinting in the moonlight. For a fleeting instant, the seriousness of her ruminations dissipated, replaced by a flutter of something softer, warmer. Yet even as her heart skipped a beat, and her distraction got the better of her, she forced herself to give voice to the question that had been weighing on her mind.

She turned to face Ji-tae more fully, watching as he stood adjusting his tie with deft fingers, seemingly lost in thought. The silvery illumination played across the angles of his handsome face, highlighting the furrow of his brow and the set of his chiseled jaw.

"Do you think all is well with your mother?" Etta began "It's been quite some time since we've seen her."

When Ji-tae remained silent, his gaze observed her, as she tilted her head, a fluff of her afro fell free to brush against her cheek. A hint of playful exasperation colored her tone as she pressed, "Are you even listening, Mr. Park?"

He heard her, well barely. it was a soft smile she received from him, the most handsome painting of ease that made her heart quicken in her chest as the silence stretched on. She studied his profile, trying to read the thoughts that flickered behind those enigmatic eyes, wondering what secrets he held close to his heart on this moonlit night.

Ji-tae's lips curved into a heart-stopping smile that never failed to make her pulse flutter. He glanced over, enchanting the prolonged stare of admiration. "Of course I am, Miss Walker. Hanging on your every word, as always."

Etta arched a brow, fighting the answering grin tugging at her mouth. She placed a hand on her hip, fixing him with a mock stern look. "Is that so? Then amuse me, what profound statement did I just make?"

Ji-tae chuckled, the warm sound sending pleasant shivers down her arms as goosebumps danced about. He closed the distance between them with a few languid strides, reaching out to tuck her afro behind her ear. His fingers lingered, grazing her cheek and igniting sparks beneath her skin.

"Well, I must confess..." He leaned in, warm breath ghosting across her ear. "There are these moments, Miss Walker, where I find myself utterly lost in your beauty first and foremost."

Etta's lashes fluttered as his honeyed words washed over her. She swallowed, trying to focus on their conversation and not the intoxicating nearness of him. "That silver tongue of yours will be your undoing one day," she murmured, even as she swayed closer.

Ji-tae's smile turned wolfish. "Ah, but what a sweet undoing it would be." His hands found her waist, drawing her flush against the lean lines of his body.

Etta's breath hitched, palms coming to rest against the firm planes of his chest. She could feel the steady thrum of his heart beneath her fingertips, betraying his affected nonchalance. Emboldened, she trailed her touch up to circle the back of his neck, delighting in his sharp inhale.