The Moon on a Frozen Lake

5: Spring

I've long thought the end of Winter was Spring,

And then you come wandering in,

Enclosed in the fragrance of a flower, ever blooming,

Is your exquisite being, lighting me from within.

--- J., 2008

It was already ten in the morning when Yingyue woke up. Dropping her phone back on the bed, she rubbed her eyes and slowly propped herself up against a mountain of pillows. The incision by her waist stung at her movements, but by now, she had gotten used to it. What was bugging her more was the light musk she emanated from the lack of a proper bath. Yingyue sniffed her underarm and grimaced. No matter what, she was going to shower today, especially since Kang Jihoon was always around.

Speaking of Jihoon...

Yingyue groaned.

He was killing her. Didn't the man realize how attractive he was? Didn't he know how being close to him caused her heart to stop, then race, then stop again like a student driver unable to distinguish between the brake and accelerator?

Judging from their dawn rendezvous, he seemed oblivious.

"Typical man," she muttered.

Like that time he caged her against the counter. His scent -- coffee, ocean, and musk -- had enveloped her in a hazy cloud of desire. Since then, she couldn't think of anything except wanting to touch him. Not in a kinky way. No, not really. More like brushing the back of her hand against his cheek or burying her nose against his neck.

Wait, was that kinky?

Shrugging off the question, her mind drifted back to last night. She replayed a slow-mo, high definition version of that moment he winked at her. Her breath hitched.

Gah!

How did he have the audacity to ask if she was okay?

Clearly, she wasn't okay.

She'd always been the type of person who enjoyed physical contact, but at the same time didn't know how to initiate it. As a result, her attempts at seduction often skewed towards awkwardness. When she had casual affairs, her partners had always been the more aggressive ones, so she'd never had a problem. Jihoon, however, appeared to be more laid back. Sometimes, she even doubted he was interested in her. So, how was she going to survive this week without turning into a desperate blob of hormones and sexual frustration? Ironically, she had stopped dreaming about him, too, so there was no relief to be found there.

Ah, such cruel fate.

A knock interrupted her theatrics. Soon after, her bedroom door opened wide enough for the source of her suffering to poke his head.

"Morning," Jihoon said, lingering by the entrance. Seeing her already awake, he grinned and made his way inside. He effortlessly balanced a wooden tray with one hand, which he then laid on her side table.

"M-morning," she stuttered, her voice still raspy from sleep.

"I brought you breakfast."

"You made this?" She took in the bowl of congee topped chicken and chives paired with a mug of tea and a glass of water. How did he have time to prepare all these?

Dragging a stool to next to her bed, he sat and smirked. "Would you be impressed if I told you I did?"

"Yes! I mean, it looks delicious." Mirroring his position, she scooped up a small serving, bringing it to her lips. "Mmm... it tastes delicious, too."