47. Only You

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We stare at each other. The silence stretches.

"I'll show you up to my bedroom." His voice is a little rough. He drags his eyes away from mine.

The light dips and wavers as if the hand holding the lamp is shaking a little, but it might have been a draught. "Well, I'll take the lamp up for you." And he reaches out with his other hand, and grips my hand tightly. I let him. I am powerless in his presence.

He climbs up the stairs first, and I follow behind. He pushes open the door, and we are in his bedroom. He puts the lamp on the little table beside the bed, and suddenly the flickering, uncertain light is diffused into a golden glow. He shuts the door, and we look at each other in the lamplight. The little circle of light is somehow more intimate even than darkness, holding us close in its narrow circle, and we stand just inches apart, suddenly unsure of each other. In the softly piercing light, I can see a vein in his throat is pulsing as quickly as my own heart.

Without a word, as if this is something we have agreed, he takes my face between his hands and kisses me.

I don't say anything – I don't protest, I don't push him away – I only kiss him back, running my fingers up beneath his shirt, feeling the smoothness of his skin, and the ridges of bone and muscle and the heat of his mouth.

We are in his bedroom; we are on his bed. Our clothes are lying in a tangled, dark heap on the floor.

We reach out blindly for each other, I see his face, white in the pool of light.

Our breaths fuse together. He breathes with me. I exhale, and he swallows the heat of my breath with his kiss. He inhales, breathing me in, and my heart expands. A single breath more and my heart will finally, finally explode.

We are lips and arms and legs and bodies entangled. He raises himself above me and we are wordless, and then we are joined and moving silently. We are joined and I know all of the secrets of the universe.

I turn in his arms, and it is my favourite place in the world, familiar and foreign, comforting, and thrilling all at once.

I feel a strange sensation inside. It is the past coming to life, the watery stirring of a previous life turning in my belly, creating a tide that rises in my veins and swells in my heart. An ocean of love sweeps over me; I close my eyes. I drown in it.

"Mina." His kisses are desperate, raw with longing. He cannot get enough of me. "Mina." He kisses me over and over. Everywhere. His kisses are everywhere, on every part of me.

"There is no part of you," he whispers, "that I do not remember. This mole in the small of your back." He presses his lips on it, making it burn. "This scar on your knee, where you fell from that blasted swing in the playground, and scrapped it, and cried..." He traces it with his thumb, sending a shivery tingle through me. "This mark," his hand lingers below my right breast, "like a dark plum...I kissed it till you blushed..." He kisses it, and I feel the blood rise to my cheeks. 

He holds me close to him, reaches out his hand to mine and, taking it, holds it against his lips. "Why, in the name of God," he says in a low, pained whisper, "were you and I marked down for such a tragedy?"

The silly childish tears prick my eyes and he kisses them away, and smooths my hair.

I put my two hands on his shoulders and stare straight at him. The light silky hair, the silvery eyes, the little pulse that beats in his cheek. He is not the only one with recollections. I have my memories, too; the patch of freckles that have been as much a matter for discussion as the mole upon my back, the tattoo of the tiny moons on his chest. I bend, and kiss them - the freckles, then the tattoo, and last of all, his lips, and he moans, and drags my head back fiercely, thrusting his fingers through my hair, and kisses me feverishly; I taste his mouth, its sweetness coats my mouth and goes straight to my head like champagne.

His hands are all over me, twining round my limbs like spider silk, and I am spellbound, I am enthralled in his touch, his kisses, his magic; they pierce my skin, enter my blood, numb my thoughts, intoxicate my senses.

"I love you, Kim Mina." His voice is trembling. "I always have, and I always will."

He cups my cheek, and my tears trickle down his fingers. "My brave girl, my darling. You'll always have my whole heart."

He holds my hand still against his heart. "Feel it." His voice is raw, unsteady. "Feel how it beats for you. The second my lips touched yours, my heart split completely in two. Half of it belonged to you from that point on. Every other beat of my heart since then has been for you. Only you. Only ever you."

I look at him, and I see the boy he was, and the man he is now, beautifully proportioned, his eyes shimmering with tears, shining with love for me. The same eyes all those years ago. The face I know better than my own.

I open my mouth, and I say it out loud, and when I do, my heart leaps suddenly inside my chest, jolting like a thunderbolt to the centre of my chest, "I love you." I swallow, choking back my tears. "I love you, Na Jaemin. I love you. I love you. I love you. I always have, and I always will."

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