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The Han Family of Incheon - 이천 한씨 가문

Han Mi Sun - 57 - Ceramic Artist / Master Potter "Clay remembers everything. You cannot lie to it." Misun was born into an elite family of artisan lineage, tracing back to the royal court potters of the Joseon Dynasty. Her ancestors served directly under the Bureu of Royal Artisans (Gongjangseo), specializing in Baekja (white porcelain) used in court ceremonies.

The Han family kiln, located in a hidden vallery near Incheon, Gyeonggi Province, has been in continuous operation for over 300 years; currently known as the Incheon Ceramics Village.

She was the youngest out of three children, and the only one to show interest in inheriting the craft. Her father, Han Dokyeom, was a National Treasure-level master and a fierce traditionalist. He taught Misun the craft and philosophy of clay: the pot is not made by hands, but by generations.

Misun's work reflect Joseon-era purity with a modern, minimalist aesthetic. Her signature pieces are asymmetrical moon jars with hand painted surface brushstrokes, evoking impermanence and quiet strength. Her work earned her international acclaim and exhibitions in Seoul, Paris, New York and London.

She rejects mass production, preferring intimate exhibitions in museums, cultural centers, and academic circles. Her name is spoken with reverence in South Korea's art world; not as a celebrity, but as a guardian of national soul.

The Jung Family of Daegu - 대구 정씨 가문

Jung Hyuntae - 58 - Head of Strategic Operations, ROK Army "Silence is will. Strategy begins before the war."

Hyuntae is a proud decendant of the Jung Clan, a noble yangban family whose roots trace back to the late Goryeo period and rose to prominence during Joseon Dynasty. The family has traditionally produced Confucian scholars, civil administrators, and military officers serving the royal court.

He began his career as a young officer in the ROK 7th Merchanized Infantry Division, serving near the DMZ during a period of heightened North Korean incursions in the late 1980s. Over the decades, he steadily climbed the ranks due to his operational acumen, diplomatic finesse, and strategic foresight.

He maintains a daily ritual of reviewing 'The Analects and Book of War' texts before briefings. He is highly disciplined, reserved and analytical - often compared to a scholar-general in the mold of Joseon's Confucial military officials.

He currenly serves as the head of strategic doctrine development for emerging warfare; space-based surveillance, command systems, and North Korean threats.

— "He speaks in war plans. She answers in clay."

In 1991, at a cultural diplomacy event held at the Blue House, Hyuntae was assigned to coordinate security for a visiting Japanese defense attache. Misun was presenting a collection of modernized buncheong ware alongside other master artisans, representing Korea's intangible cultural assets.

He noted her stillness, and in turn, she noticed his posture - not rigid, but centered and respectful. They spoke for just three minutes, mostly pleasantries, but something quiet lodged between them; a recognition of someone who lived under constant pressure, yet never allowed that pressure to warp their dignity.

Their courtship was brief and very formal, befitting the cultural expectations of their families. Behind the ceremonies were long conversations, however, often in silence, in tea houses, walking beside rivers, exchanging thoughts on legacy, tradition, time and responsibility.

Their marriage was never loud, romantic or passionate in the conventional sense; they were devoted to each other, tempered by time and distance, and a shared belief that love is not always spoken but enacted.

On their 20th anniversary, she gave him a small incense burner shaped like a lotus. Inside was a note:

Even iron must rest in fire to soften. I am your fire. Rest here, sometimes.

[apletones]

[apletones]

beyond us.

I.

The gush of wind from the open window was enough to bring her back to her senses. Suhyun, you shouldn’t do this, but what’s a better way to get to know her enemy than this? 

The more she tries to step away, the more he pulls her in. 

“We need to get ready.” She sternly says, the arm around her waist only tightens. The same groggy smile plastered on his lips. It’s irritating her, and as much as she would like to deny it, it’s reeling her back in. The bed was warm, he kept it warm, and she couldn’t seem to pull away. What do you have on me? 

“Says who?” 

“Your manager, who’s been calling for at least every two minutes.” she gets up, finally crawling away from the hold. Mingyu reaches over but fails to grab at something–mostly because she wasn’t wearing anything. 

Suhyun picks her clothes off the floor, carefully waddling around the room as she attempts to get dressed. She sees him grab his phone, finally, and when she thought he was going to answer the call, he tosses it on the side instead.

“You’re going to get in trouble.” she points out, pulling her shirt down as she moves her hair off the collar, dragging the clump to her shoulder. Mingyu comes closer, that damn groggy smile still on his lips. He presses his forehead down on her free shoulder, his fingers find its way on her waist, tracing soft circles on her exposed skin. “He’s fine. He should have stopped after the second time I didn’t answer.” 

“Suhyun?”

“Hm?”

“Stay in bed with me.” 

He kisses her shoulder, arms now wrapped around her waist.

And of course, who was she to say no?

II.

The track is one of her favorites. Driving along the coastal road in Monaco is more comforting to her than tiresome; Suhyun finds herself smiling as she swerves through the mass, passing by a couple of cars that were ahead of her. It doesn’t take long until she finds his car, the white one with a big mercedes logo on the side. She smirks, maybe this time she could finally surpass him, at least this once. 

She buckles herself at the swerve, the turning point of the track rests at the last curve and she comes in hot – she pushes through from the inside of the lap and finally goes ahead of him. 

She finished 3rd and he was 4th. 

Suhyun hops off the car once she gets by the pit, taking her helmet off and ruffles her hair while greeting the rest of the crew with a job well done; it’s always been a team effort, it wasn’t just her. She gestures herself forward, coming up with an excuse so she can leave the track without any other nuisance but she was pulled to the side before she could get inside the locker room. 

“Nice drift there, Jung.” 

She finds herself trapped between the wall and Mingyu, he has that unwavering smirk on his lips, as if he knew something she doesn’t. Maybe he does, but she’s not about to admit that yet. She turns her head to face him, mimicking the smirk plastered on his lips. “Thanks, Lee. I thought you wouldn’t let me get ahead of you?” 

Mingyu’s smile tightens but it wasn’t for the reasons she thinks it is for – it was almost inviting, as if he was prideful, proud of what she just accomplished. “It’s just for today. You told me your favorite track is Monaco, I’ll let you have it. Next week, I’ll take it back.” he leans awfully close, their noses almost touching. 

And she was about to lean forward until they quickly pulled away from being startled about a noise near them. Suhyun points to the locker room and heads there as Mingyu stands behind, almost perplexed. 

This isn’t anything illegal, they just need to put up a facade. 

This occurrence they couldn’t seem to name became a comfort, and by the end of the day, they’re still two lonely people trying to find solace. 

III.

She told him she loved him when he was asleep. 

It was almost four in the morning, they got back to the hotel after spending time with their sponsors, after a couple of drinks, and after things started to wind down. She wasn’t entirely sure when he fell asleep, but the soft sound of his breathing and the loose hand on her stomach was enough of an indication that he was. 

Suhyun brushed his hair off the side of his forehead, her fingers gently traced the mole on his cheek and down to brush the pad of her thumb on his lips. “I love you.” She murmurs again, the clock on the nightstand indicates it’s almost five. 

She shifts from the hold so she can lay on his shoulder properly, her hand rests on his waist, letting herself relax and eventually doze off. 

Mingyu opens his eyes slowly once her breathing slows, his lips twitching to a small smile, almost unable to hide his glee. “And I love you.” he whispers, lips pressed against her cheek while wishing she could remember in the morning. 

IV.

The drive was slow and almost boring. 

She’s used to the fast paced track and her tiny car. Mingyu told her to dress comfortably, so she did, and he ushered her inside a rented commercial car instead of his normal sporty type. 

“It’s all they had at the shop, we’re leaving after the track tomorrow. Besides, what’s wrong with a Toyota Corolla?” he asks and she couldn’t help but laugh, Suhyun shakes her head in retaliation, buckling herself once she gets in the car. 

“Where are we going?” She turns to him a couple of minutes after he sets off, his hand rests comfortably on her thigh; it’s warm and gentle, the pad of his thumb rubbing along her clothed skin as if he was making sure she’s there. He answered only with a smile, telling her silently to just sit back and relax. Enjoy the drive, as if they were communicating telepathically. 

The roads were clear, it’s almost midnight, and that’s why she was surprised at the mention of a drive. Normally they would be in bed, relaxing. 

It didn’t take them long, Mingyu seems to know the roads in Italy, she wasn’t entirely sure how nor did she get the chance to ask. All she knew was the warmth of his hand, and that’s enough for her.

“Come on.” He says as he parks the car by the side of the road, gently patting her thigh before getting out of the car. Suhyun looks around, grabbing the hand that was extended for her to take after he opened the door for her. “Where are we?” She asks, and once again met with a tug on her arm, fingers entwined as Mingyu leads the way toward the cathedral. 

The Duomo di Monza, she reads from a sign. 

He tightens his hold on her hand. 

“Mingyu?”

He chuckles at the confusion, they talked about it before, how they’re both impulsive; the track keeping their adrenaline high and mighty. Suhyun knows that the only stability she could ever have is around him, and this might be the sign that he feels the same way. 

“Let’s get married.” 

V.

The announcement went as planned, both of their teams were surprised but they weren’t retaliating. Suhyun flashed her hand, fingers wiggling at her crew before spewing the whole night before and how it was almost too good to be true. 

She gently took off the ring, however, so she could put on her gloves. It’s easier and more comfortable without it, and she wasn’t used to it yet. Mingyu glances over to her, almost shyly. They’re still on different teams, but united as one. 

Ti Amo. He mouths, and it didn’t take long before a blush forms across her cheeks. 

“All racers, proceed to your vehicles.” 

Suhyun ties her hair, her eyes watching him in a sea of people as he leads the way to his car. Mingyu glances at her before hopping in, she could feel her heart race at the sight. She rushes to her side, quickly getting in before the announcers start the count down. 

The weather that day was supposed to be nice, sunny and bright; an Italian summer. During the third lap, she saw the rain drip. And on the fifth, she heard a thunderclap. 

“Be careful, the turn will be slick. They couldn’t get the salt out in time to get traction, make sure to maneuver slowly.” She presses a finger against her earpiece to hear the pit crew better. “Roger.” she answers, slowly pressing her foot on the accelerator. 

She sees Mingyu’s car ahead; the white pearl coating with the big mercedes logo on the side. 

And within a blink of an eye, she sees it upside down. 

Her earpiece falls off, she hears the loud voices as her car hits the pavement below. Her head whips to the side, hitting the door. Her car bounces again and she hears another loud wave of voices. It was her team, their voices echoed in the car, it was mixed with concern, worry, and a hint of anger. 

Her life flashed before her eyes; her life, full of adrenaline, inconsistency and Mingyu. The momentary glimpse of her memories was enough for her to know that it was the end. 

The rush of images in her head; the first time they met, the night they had their first kiss, when she thought he was asleep as she confessed, and the night of their wedding. 

Everything went by so thoroughly and so quick and she wasn’t able to think, all she could utter as her car hits the asphalt once again was: 

“Ti amo, Mingyu.” 

[apletones]

It's like idk man, I still wash my paint brushes the way my art teacher taught me how a decade ago. I eat tortillas the same way as the ex I haven't seen in years. You can fly to the other side of the world and the shop will play the song your dad played in the car when you were a kid and it still sounds exactly the same. My hair grows funny in one spot because I got a scar on my scalp when I was six.

Sometimes I reach for light switches that aren't there, that have never been there, because I used to live someplace that had a light switch in that spot. And I think maybe life is about repeatedly reaching for light switches that aren't there. In a few years you'll be somewhere else, and you'll reach for the light switches you have now.

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jellyfish in the sky.

I.

It’s raining again, and she got stuck a block away from the flat. London rains, she grumbles under her breath as she takes cover under a nearby restaurant. It was packed inside so she settled by the window outside instead, keeping her body close to the wall so she doesn’t get drenched. Suhyun holds the bag of groceries against her chest, puffing out a breath that slightly moves her bangs. The rain gives her a familiar feeling, almost comforting and at times like this, she would immediately drown herself with music in front of a blank canvas to take advantage of the feeling and possibly paint, or draw, or both yet she’s stuck. 

“Jung?” she turns, she wiggles her toes as she feels her socks wet. Suhyun could see her breath as she exhaled, she didn’t realize how cold it had gotten. Jinwoo stands on the side almost surprised, umbrella above his head. 

“Hey…Ryu.” she answers, feeling a little bit of chill. “I told you not to get out today without an umbrella, look where it got you?” he scoffs, letting out a chuckle when he sees her retort by rolling her eyes. “Come on, let’s go home.” 

Suhyun steps out of the hanging canopy, keeping the bag against her chest, and leans against him while under the umbrella. “I got some food for later.” she sniffles a bit, his arm finds its way around her shoulder, she realises that she might catch a cold. “I got us chips, ramen of course, and some Dr. Pepper for you, I noticed you’re out.” she adds, walking alongside him. 

The rain kept going, and she found herself warm. 

II.

“Are you really not going to talk to me?” Standing by the side of the couch is Suhyun, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. “It’s been a week, it feels like we haven’t–” 

“I’m tired, Suhyun. 7 am class, internship after, and I just got home.” he states, pulling his scarf off his neck as she watches. The warmth was gone, she notes, and despite the heavy rain outside, and how she feels comfortable and dry, there’s something missing. She watches him drag himself across the living room, they have been living together for almost two years. “I just want to rest.” he adds, walking inside his room. 

Suhyun was greeted with the soft latch of the door, she heard him lock the door after. “I made ramen…” she mumbles, her eyes glancing over at the window. She could see the lightning from across the city, but the thunder didn’t roar until much later. 

The silence was deafening, and she didn’t notice it until much later. 

III.

Drenched and cold, Suhyun runs up to the apartment in hopes to quickly change yet she is met with luggages, and a couple of boxes outside the door. She reaches for the doorknob to enter but is quickly greeted by a surprised Jinwoo. She feels the drop of water from her bangs to her shoes, and for a moment there she wasn’t sure if it was from the rain or the brewing tears from her eyes. “You’re leaving?” she asks, and he nods to answer. He excuses himself, pushing through the small space left hanging as she stands there by the doorway, unmovable. 

She heard the aggressive rain against the window, but she wasn’t sure what to do. Jinwoo drags each box from the side of the apartment down the stairs, handing it over to the movers. When did this happen? Why wasn’t she informed? 

When he grabbed the last box, she turned to look at him – eyes locked as if she was searching for an answer. Why?

Jinwoo walked away first. The rain didn’t feel sympathetic over his move, he got drenched in no time too. Suhyun follows him, the squishing of her socks were irritating but she could only focus on him. “Now?” she asks again. “When do you think I should?” Never. 

“Dad got me an apartment closer to the hospital, it’s easier for me to focus on my studies there.” 

Am I that distracting? I promise I won’t play loud music whenever you’re studying. Or to cook ramen and forget to wash the dishes after– Just… stay – Suhyun stares at him with her racing thoughts. The box in his arms was getting wet but he turned to her, his hair sticking against his forehead. 

“I’ll see you around, Suhyun.” you never call me Suhyun. 

That night, the rain provided everything but comfort. 

IV.

Seoul is much like London, she notes, as she’s once again stuck underneath a canopy, praying for the rain to stop. Suhyun keeps her bag against her side, her head tilted upward to observe. She spots a rainbow by the corner of the street, a tiny one but a rainbow nonetheless. 

“I feel like we’ve been here before.” She hears a familiar voice, she quickly turns with a smile and without him asking, she hops off from under the canopy to get under the umbrella he’s holding. “It can’t fit two people!” he grunts, but it only draws out a laugh from her. 

She holds against the side of his shirt to keep herself close. Suhyun didn’t really notice the umbrella leaning against her side more, and that Jinwoo’s shoulder is getting drenched, all she noted was the familiar feeling of comfort. 

“Should we order Jajangmyeon?”

V.

Summer has always been one of her favorite seasons. Despite being drenched with sweat from time to time, it’s nice seeing the wonder of the world in light. Suhyun raises her arms in the air, feeling the breeze of the wind while pedaling. She wobbles a bit on the side but she couldn’t help but laugh, behind her is Jinwoo, scolding her for almost losing her balance. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ve done this a million times!” she says, keeping her hands in the air for a couple more seconds before reaching for the handle before she topples over. He catches up next to her, the side of his face dripping with sweat. 

“I still don’t get why you want to go to work riding a bike.” he grunts keeping up with her pace, which was a little difficult since she likes accelerating and letting go on downhill roads while he likes it steady. “Slow down, will you!” he adds as he watches her go ahead of him for the nth time. 

“Keep up, will you?” she lets out a laugh, leaning forward to speed up. Jinwoo follows behind her again with a grunt, she knows he’s cursing her in the back of his mind but she doesn’t care, the sun feels nice against her skin – she swerves and goes through the herd of people, slowly coming to a stop once she sees the museum sign. Suhyun hops off the bike, grabbing a small towel from her tote bag and waits for him to catch up. 

“You’re a beast.” 

“I know, next time we do this, I need you to be ahead of me.” she smiles, handing over the towel. She watches as Jinwoo wipes himself clean, it takes her a little bit of effort not to reach to brush the strands of his hair sticking against his forehead, it was almost too familiar to her. “Are you ready to spend the whole day looking at art?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Suhyun takes a moment to answer, albeit knowing. She gives him a gentle pat on the back, her smile widening. “Not really.” 

[apletones]

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𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗍𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗂 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗆𝗈.

[apletones]

❝  you don’t know how glad i am to see you made it.  here,  let me get you a drink.   ❞

Suhyun and Yunaka’s relationship is like no other. They understood each other, they’re like a perfect pair; both driven with their goals in life. 

They met when they were little, they found comfort in each other through knowing the simplest things like flowers and the way each autumn leaf fall. They bonded over the fact that they’re both the only children of their respective families, Suhyun immediately noting how Yunaka should be her little sister after noting the date of her birth. They were pen pals for quite some time, their weekly letters consist of their day by day, noting each and every important scene that takes up space in their memories. 

So Suhyun knew, at the late night text she received from the other past midnight, on a lazy saturday night, she knew there was something wrong. She thanks her insomnia for being awake. Her fingers have paint splotches from doing a small project when she checks her phone, Yunaka’s name plastered on the notification bar, and all Suhyun does is to give her a small thumbs up as a reply and heads her way. 

It’s kind of chilly, she notes as she slips her hands inside her jacket pockets, unable to take off all the dried paint off her nails but she doesn’t mind. Who cares about that in the middle of the night? Suhyun enters the small bar they frequent, the sound of slow jazz entering her ears as her eyes scan the place for the other women whom she was there for. Ah, there she is. 

Suhyun hops on the stool next to her, her familiar smile covering her face as she tries to give the other a comforting sight. “Naya, what’s going on?” she asks, leaning her head on her palm propped over the counter, facing her friend. 

❝  you don’t know how glad i am to see you made it.  here,  let me get you a drink.   ❞

Suhyun hops on the stool next to her, her familiar smile covering her face as she tries to give the other a comforting sight. “Don’t worry about me, you know I don’t drink that much anyway. Naya, what’s going on?” she asks, leaning her head on her palm propped over the counter, facing her. 

She notes the subtle change on her friend’s face, her hair a little disheveled, her cheeks puffed and pink from the drinks she took earlier before she came in. The longing on her eyes, those doe eyes Suhyun loves staring at. “Do you miss him?” she asks gently, Suhyun’s hand reaches over to tuck some loose strands off Yunaka’s cheek, behind her ear, softly caressing her cheek with her thumb. She feels her friend nod at her question. “Sorry, paint- I was painting when you texted me.” she adds, laughing casually. 

“Let me tell you what I said before, okay? You chose you.” she hums, her smile never leaving her lips. This is just a casualty that they need to face together, whatever the circumstances are. Suhyun promised her that if the weight of yearning and the loss of her relationship over a void that can’t be filled seems too much, she’s there– she will always be there to help carry it. “It’s okay to miss him, you’ve been together for so long. Even I miss the people I don’t see or hear from anymore, knowing I have no more connection with them but that’s where your memory serves its purpose. Shouldn’t we recall the happier times, and be grateful it happened instead of being devastated it ended?” Suhyun adds, pinching her friend’s cheek. 

Yunaka leans her head back from the way she was laying on the counter, her smile is small but still evident from the way her eyes speak. Suhyun pats her cheek, gesturing to her to get up. Suhyun snakes an arm around her friend’s waist to keep her straight and prevent her from falling, she might have drank a little too much. But in these moments like this, is where she feels the most helpful. Being there in a moment of weakness and confusion, Suhyun stands; she wants to be nothing more but a clarity. Someone who understands–despite circumstances. 

“I’ll take you home, and we can drink some more there, maybe eat some ice cream pint or two.” 

[apletones]

[apletones]

[apletones]

london showers

London rain is infamous for being constant yet unpredictable. On times where they couldn’t see anything out of their living room window, the duo spends the day at home. Suhyun suggested doing the laundry but the colder weather made it hard for them to move. Jinwoo had his legs crossed against the couch cushion, comfortable–while she stayed next to him, their thighs touching. 

The roaring thunder and the tapping rain on their living room window were comforting. Suhyun’s holding a book in hand while Jinwoo’s writing a song; his guitar on his lap, humming a melody that only brought a smile to her lips. She couldn’t even focus on the chapter she’s reading, she knows it’s about the whole idea of romanticism in painting, the whole ordeal of J.W. Turner and Eugene Delacroix. 

“Don’t you have a paper to write, hm?” he turns to her, his thumb gazes on one of the threads of his guitar, as if waiting for a chord to strike. She turns to him, as if she wasn’t staring for a couple of minutes from time to time. She pretends to cough, shifting herself properly and in a more comfortable position, her arm rests against the flat of the headrest, her head on top of the couch. Her eyes trail along his features, almost disengaged with the topic in hand. What were they talking about? 

“Jung, you have a paper to write, don’t you?”

“I do, it’s not due until the end of the week.” She explains, justifying her tardiness. He puts his guitar down to shift his attention to her. This isn’t good, she thinks, and she really wouldn’t get anything done. How could she? How could she think? When his voice matches the melodic pattern of the blistering rain? And the light from their living room falls along to create a soft hue on his cheeks, he looks… 

“That habit of yours, you’re making me believe I’m the handsomest man you’ve ever met.” he grins, his teasing voice takes her back on the rails of her thoughts.

“You’re so narcissistic!” she chimes, a hand reaching over to push his face as if to tell him to stop. The grin is still there, as if he knew what she meant and he does; all of which were reassured with the soft pink hues on her cheeks. 

“You didn’t deny it.” He adds, laughing afterwards. He pats her leg, and as if on cue, she stretches them to lay it on top of his. Jinwoo grabs the book she’s reading, his hand rests in between the pages, eyes scanning the words to see which chapter she’s on and if anything was retained in her memory. His free hand lays softly on her thigh. His hand is warm, she notes, as she could only focus on one thing and she thought the easiest one to think of is his gentle caress on her skin, instead of how he looks while focused on the book he’s reading. 

Suhyun believes her eyes can see all of what makes life wonderful. The rays of sunshine between the leaves of a tree, the scorching heat of the sun against a heated pavement that creates a soft and wavy patterns with the wind, the desaturated colors of a paint she left out for too long, the wrinkles on Jinwoo’s face when he laughs, the creases on his forehead when he’s frustrated, and the shape of his eyes– some of which were her favorite features. As he reads, she stares, they find comfort doing this mundane thing. In the bustling streets of London where they were, they found solace. 

“Who’s your favorite painter in the romanticism era?” He breaks the silence, turning to her with a question. She could hear something faint against her chest, what is it? As she keeps her eyes locked on him, she feels something different. She leans closer, pushing her hair off her shoulder so she could check where he was on the book they somehow started reading together. 

“At first I thought I liked Goya? He was very impressive in his time, and he would depict the Spanish war in a sense where you can see the love and hate at the same time in his paintings. But then I started looking at Turner, and how the soft strokes on his paintings felt surreal. I think I fell in love then.” I think I fell… 

Suhyun turns to him with her lips curling to a smile, her readings were important for a research project she had to do in one of her painting classes; the history of everything, she thinks, is one of the most important things as an artist to know. I think I’m falling… She watches as he puts the book down on the side table next to the couch, and focuses his attention all on her as if she was the exhibit he wanted to explore. His hand is still warm yet it rests on hers now, her thumb gently gazing on his knuckle like it’s the most precious thing. 

“Jinwoo?” 

“Is it the end of the world, you never call me that.” He feigns a chuckle, it was airy and faint. He was masking the sudden nervousness he’s feeling between their staring. She leans closer, breath hitching in anticipation. Why did she say his name again? She doesn’t seem to recall, it was within the spur of the moment. His name suddenly feels so familiar on her lips. She lets her head fall on his shoulder, eyes staring directly on his neck. She feels him snake his arms around her waist and pull her close. 

“Can we stay like this for a while?” 

[apletones]

in the middle of the aegean sea, somewhere between the islands where myths were born and broken, mingyu floats on a boat that smells like salt and orange peels. beside him is suhyun, her head tilted towards the sky, eyes closed as the sun presses warm kisses into her skin. the wind tangles her hair like it’s in love with her and the tour guide talks about apollo and delos, but his eyes are fixed on her. he watches her from where he’s perched on the edge of the boat, sunglasses forgotten on top of his head. he should look away, he really should.

but suhyun has this way of making the world feel so quiet and still, even when it��s loud. even when it’s messy. even when he knows he’s going to leave.

she’s sitting with her legs crossed, fingertips brushing the rim of her water glass. her lips are a little chapped from the sun, pink from biting down on them while deep in thought. there’s a crease between her brows she doesn’t know she has when she listens too hard and god, she listens hard. to everything. the tour guide, the waves, the wind. to him.

she asks him how long he’s staying, and the question feels like a weight. not long. he isn’t even meant to be here today – he’s meant to be back in transit to turkey, where he’s supposed to meet vincent.

“not sure,” he says instead, like it means nothing. but he feels it, her smile faltering, even as she turns her head away. even just a little.

suhyun looks out at the ocean and it almost looks like she wants to believe in something eternal. maybe he does too. maybe deep down, he still believes that love can be enough to anchor a person. you know better, a voice from within him retorts. he’s not someone who gets anchored, he’s someone who vanishes.

still, in serendipitous moments like these, its as if he can’t stop looking at her. for her would be more accurate.

“you ever think about how some people are meant to happen, but not meant to stay?” he asks, and he’s almost annoyed with himself for letting his honesty and intrusive thoughts slip.

“like a lesson?” her voice is soft and he hates how much it makes him ache.

he leans back, pretending to be calm, like the way she looks at him doesn’t feel like drowning. he’s so used to people being blurry and forgettable but she – she’s sharp in his mind and burned into him. everything about this moment feels like something he’ll never forget: her sunburned cheeks, chipped nail polish from all the coin digging from her purse. even her voice when she tries not to be careful, but is.

she opens her eyes and catches him looking at her. their gaze is static, and instead of answering his question, she smiles and asks, “what?”

what he wants to say is too intimate. he thinks he should lie and say it’s nothing. he should look away before he ends up making a fool of himself.

except he doesn’t.

“i think i just saw an entire future with you.”

and it’s true, heavens help him, it’s true. a small apartment with plants in the windowsill, her in his shirts while she makes away with her skillful hands, laughter in a kitchen as he attempts to cook, slow and sweet sunday mornings. he thinks that she’ll be the one thing he lets himself have.

he wants to kiss her. and he’s most certain she does too. he leans in and so does she, and for a moment, he feels normal. he’s sure that this is what falling feels like.

but the boat shifts and loud laughter interrupts them from the crowd. she startle and he pulls away. for the rest of the tour, she doesn’t say anything and neither does he. he knows there are questions she wants to ask, he can see the curiosity burning in the way she digs her nails against her thighs, her brows in a knit she attempts to hide. but that’s just her. the girl who wants to know why and how and what next.

when the tour ends, the crowd beginning to line for the exit, they remain seated. she looks into the horizon, the sun setting now. “will you disappear again?”

he purses his lips as an answer and it kills him. “if we ever see each other again, maybe it’ll be different.” he doesn’t mean it as a promise, but she smiles like she hears the truth in it anyway. maybe she always has.

and as the sun keeps shining, for as long as the sea keeps rocking, mingyu watches her. one last time, because he doesn’t really know when thr next time will be. the night blooms and she looks at him with those eyes that feel as big as the shorelines, soft and wide – and he swears she’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to stay for.

but he doesn’t. and just like before, mingyu vanishes before sunset.

[apletones]

The unexpected connections we make might not last, yet stay with us forever.

Lost In Translation

[apletones]

❝  well,  i’ve been wanting to talk to you.  but i don’t really know how to put it all in words.  ❞ -mingyu

Dance at the Bougival by Renoir, which depicts two dancers in the middle of a crowd. She hasn’t seen this before, so she lingers, with her arms slowly crossing on her chest as she gets lost in thought.

She feels a presence next to her, a museum-goer, she assumes, she was about to step back so they can enjoy the view, yet the familiar voice echoes in the air and stops her. 

“It’s like they’re dancing in motion, aren’t they?” he asks, the same smile that got her the first time, plastered on his lips. That tight curl is full of secrets. 

Did we not learn anything from the past couple of years? She thinks to herself.

Their history is complicated. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, he was a part of her life. He helped her grow, to realize that there are things called transient moments, feelings pass, all of which would be gone in a second. 

The museum wasn’t as crowded on a Wednesday afternoon. In fact, the occupants were mere children, brought by their parents. The new exhibit that popped up was about impressionists, one of her favorites. She wandered around; despite having a meeting in a couple of hours, she chose to roam around her workplace to enjoy the cultivated frames of her favorite works. 

Suhyun slowly turns to him, eyes catching a glimpse of the way his lips twitch to a bigger smile once she acknowledges his presence. What is this, and why are they doing this? Aren’t they past this point? “That’s how it makes it seem like you’re there, as if you’re actually watching them dance,” she answers, her voice soft yet low. 

“Reminds me of when we met in Greece,” he retorts, and she hums in return. She remembers. A year after she left Italy, a year after meeting him, they met again. In Greece, on a summer afternoon; the sun was so bright it almost blinded her. 

She saw him—as if he knew she would be there, he stood by the pillar of her hotel lobby, waiting for her. He took her away for the day; he took her to the market; he took her to see the little murals of what once were buildings of the ancient times. He made sure she was safe, with his hand gently cupping the small of her back when they were climbing up stairs, or to push her hair away from her cheek when she couldn’t see what was happening because of the breeze, or when he tells her, ever so gently, to be careful when she was too clumsy to walk on stones and almost trips in the process.

Of course she remembers Greece; she remembers the second time she hoped, and the second time she was disappointed.

“Hmm, was it when we managed to catch the parade?” She recalls, Suhyun cocks her head to the side expectantly.

What is she expecting? 

Mingyu catches her gaze, followed by a small nod. “You forced me to dance until our feet were sore,” he adds, keeping his body forward. 

“Yet you still fled the next day. How sore was yours?” She teases, putting a little dust of pity with her words. He knew, though; he knew enough to read between the lines. This is how they communicate, between simple gazes and silent words, as if they both knew. Both knew what, exactly?

❝ Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. but I don’t really know how to put it all in words. ❞ 

But words aren’t the only way to express; they know, of course they do—they’re lovers of art. In between gazes, in between the stroke of a brush, they knew there was a feeling. A fleeting feeling, something she dreads to experience once again. 

Words, she thinks nonchalantly. Words that never came to be; what they were, what happened to them, and what she knows now is that—they never came to be. She wants to tell him a lot of things, things that she thought she forgot, yet she couldn’t find the words either, because all there ever was between them was silence. Words were lost in between the lines of what could have happened those nights if she wasn’t too scared to follow him and if he wasn’t too avoidant.

She musters all of her strength to look at her watch and turns to face him. Suhyun smiles, her eyes turning into small crescents as she smiles at him. Because they know they don’t need words to express how they feel. That’s just how they communicate. 

I forgive you, and it’s okay.

She walks ahead, not uttering a single thing after recalling the meeting that will start soon. 

This fleeting feeling has finally passed.

[apletones]

serendipity.

“I think I messed up…” she whispers, her voice almost silent. She works her way to look at the pieces of the legos she built, they were at bag 4, after struggling so much from the third. Suhyun looks over to her shoulder, beside her, he’s waiting until the right time to say something. 

“Uh, since thirty minutes ago.” He deadpans, resting his head on his arm when he leans against the small table in front of them. An amused smile sitting comfortably on his lips, Jinyoung stares at her. Suhyun stares back, almost challengingly. “And you didn’t tell me?” She groans, now she has to see where she messed up. She leans away, her back coming straight from the way she was crouched on the floor, sprawled with the bags of Legos on her side, the box nowhere to be found. 

“It’s not my fault I find you amusing.” He retorts, letting her fix the mistake. Suhyun shoots him a glare, but only laughter follows after. It’s one of the things in their list, their long list of things to do with each other. 

First came the weekly movie nights they started sharing, which she wasn’t entirely thrilled at the beginning. How could she put her best foot forward on something that she knew she had trouble focusing on? She stayed with him that night, remembering the movie was about an old perverted man, thinking it was about art and his paintings. It took her a while to settle then, remembering how she kept having to tell herself not to look away from the screen, almost as if to pretend to even like it – maybe it’ll give her a little bit more points on her end. Jinyoung didn’t care when they were watching, all they could really focus on was the grunts on screen and the warm hand touching each other’s. 

Suhyun describes their relationship as this unilateral pull; something she wasn’t expecting to happen. She’s always been rambunctious, her attitude toward today and tomorrow never falters. He’s stagnant, or so she believes, someone who craves every little adventure under the sun. Together, they make an interesting pair. Can she call them that? A pair. “What?” Jinyoung asks, Suhyun’s eyes lingered on him a little too long. 

“Oh, sorry. I was wondering if you’re gonna help or I’m just going to suffer alone, trying to find the mismatched piece.” He adjusts his glasses with a chuckle and leans forward to point at the back, indicating he knew all along where it was. 

They’re taking their time, the statement echoes in her head. The past couple of weeks of getting to know each other, the heated moments, the warm touches, all of that is for them to get to know each other better. She would like to think she’s vocal enough, or, well, through her actions, she’s willing to compromise. It’s a weird feeling, she adds, now basking in the scent of which she familiarized herself to be Jinyoung’s. It’s been like no other, the idea of falling and the path it takes to get there was something she never knew she would want to cross again. 

She had a fair share of experience, experiences that taught her a valuable lesson to love herself so much that no other could ever compare. She’s too independent, often running around to do errands or just to walk and get by on her own. She hated the idea of leaning, depending on other people when she could be the pillar they trust to hold onto when times are rough. She’s the sunshine, isn’t she? She has to keep up with appearances, with her friends and especially with her family. 

So when Jinyoung came around, she wasn’t sure what to do. Granted, she was the one who made the first move, but every move after that was taken precariously yet together. A step forward to the museum, a step forward to sleeping over, a step forward together (kind of, because it was her who did it first) when their lips pressed in a gentle kiss. Her head spins thinking about it, in the middle of the street, really? Suhyun shakes her head. 

“Are you okay?” Jinyoung’s voice puts her back on the rails, Suhyun is staring at him again. 

Sometimes her impulsive actions cause her moments. When she was 6, a kid in her class gave her a daisy because she looked pretty. But before he could even tell the last words, she was already plucking the petals off to put in her pocket for safe keeping. In high school, someone asks about her favorite book to start a conversation. She loves books but all she could ever say was I’m dyslexic, and the kid never recovered from embarrassment. I can still read, she wanted to say then but the moment was gone, and all she remembers after that were snickering kids behind her. 

She wonders if she ruined the moment then, too, when she stopped him in the middle of the street, grocery bags in his hands. Maybe she should have waited.

“Suhyun.” 

“Hm?” She turns to him, leaning herself on the table as she hums. Her eyes never leave his, as though they have an unspoken rule of not looking away when they’re focused. She brings a hand up to push his glasses back against the bridge of his nose, a smile breaking her lips. “I’m distracted again, sorry.” she says sheepishly. It’s because of you. 

More often than not, around him at least, she finds herself immersed with the moment; it’s like creating a specific type of painting, watercolor perhaps? Something soft and fluid, where she doesn’t have to think but feel. Much like the medium, she has to be careful, filter out the colors that she needs to create a perfect blend against the paper. 

On some rare occasion that she actually pays attention to what is happening around her, not just with her, she realizes that she becomes a little quiet when he’s around. Almost indicating she’s willing to shut herself up to listen to his voice, and the stupid beating against her chest. It’s nothing, right? Kind of nothing. We’re taking it slow, a stern voice in her head calls out again. Slow. But how slow? She groans at the thought. 

“You’ve been thinking to yourself again. Let me in.” 

She feels warmth pressed on her cheek, his thumb rubs along her skin. She doesn’t say anything else though, she gets distracted again; the way his warmth envelops her like no other. It’s times like this where she believes she knows what it means, the way their eyes connect the little thread in between their gazes, the warmth of the comfortable silence, the lingering feeling on her cheek. Suhyun smiles at him, the weight of her head hangs along his palm, it’s comforting. The kind where she doesn’t have to ask, she just knows. 

 “Jinyoung!." She exclaims all of a sudden, jolting from the table as she sits straight, her eyes staring at him intensely. “When we were talking about it before, we mentioned we don’t exactly believe in fate but we stay. And if things are meant to be, it will be. Serendipity.” 

You’re my serendipity. 

[apletones]

tsuki to taiyou

What was it again, the promise we made when we were seven? 

We’ll hang on monkey bars until we’re 80.

My knees are weak by then, how about until 65?

Spring is here and flowers bloomed just not too long ago, but it feels lifeless, the skeletal figure of the park was enough to keep it big and occupied but it is nothing more but a mere representation of how she feels – empty. Suhyun’s quiet steps patter along the pavement, her hands inside her jacket pocket, hair swaying along with the wind. 

She feels a strike on her chest, a quick flick of her wrist to press her palm against where her heart lies made her realize that this might go on forever, the heartache, the pain that she’s experiencing like no other. When was the last time they met? A couple of weeks ago, perhaps longer, Suhyun’s sundays were normally filled with his laugh, their antics and their bashful comments about older Korean ladies fashion statement. Tonight though, she’s alone. Recklessly and aimlessly walking along the sandy path in the middle of the playground they once frequented. 

What happened, you may ask? There’s no easy way to explain the love of two people who understood; the constant. She didn’t think their relationship would change once she found herself tangled in the middle of a love affair, she wanted it though, she was greedy – she wanted all of it. When she thought she could finally be selfish, for once in her life, Satan probably opposed. Why should she, all she had been was rainbows and sunshines, there was never any drought of happiness around her and yet, why is it dull? Why is there a dull knife right through her chest, letting her bleed out in pain and agony? 

“You said you will always be there.” She murmurs, sitting on the swing. She feels nostalgic, the memories crash along her head when all she wanted to do was rest. Memories of them making a gigantic croissant out of the blue, the way he would carry her shopped items from the art store, the smile he gives her when he perfects a dessert, the laughter he brings to the table when he tells her about an embarrassing moment that happened not long ago. Haewon, she thinks of Haewon. “You’re so stupid.” She adds, her palm wiping the corner of her eye almost angrily. She’s crying again, when did it ever stop? The moment he told her that day, on a bright and sunny day of March, We shouldn’t hang around each other anymore. You have him. He took a part of her she never thought she needed when he walked away. She stared at his back until all was left was a longing, and empty space in her heart. 

Her sobs echoed through the park, funnily enough, there was a kid playing by the sandbox who noticed her and determined that it was probably best that he got up and left; and there she was, alone in the park they frequent on a Sunday night. She gets a little louder, her sniffles were hard, her groaning was exaggerated but what more could she do but this? At least after she cries, she feels a little better. Not the best, but better. Haewon is moving forward, and so should she. 

Suhyun gets up to go to the monkey bars, reminiscing how she would call herself the female version of Spider-Man since she loved hanging upside down. She climbs up the ladder, slowly, because she’s older now and a little bit more fragile than when she was a child.  Suhyun carefully positions herself at the edge, hooking both her legs on the bar before dropping her body on the side, hanging upside down. She closes her eyes, letting the wind breeze through her hair and fill the space in her head. 

She hears barking from the distance, and once she feels it closer, she opens her eyes only to lock it with a familiar one – Haewon. “W-what?” He looked distraught, the dog on the leash was trying to get away from him to get to the end of the park, full of energy. 

“Haewon ah!” She exclaims. The minute he hears her though, he looks like he wants to run; and she panics. “No!” Suhyun frantically tries to free herself from the way she was hanging, her legs shot up, dropping herself down on the pavement landing on her arm, she lets out a cry. Haewon immediately runs toward her, his dog following the pursuit. 

“Suhyun!” He cries out, not knowing what to do. Suhyun holds his arm, while he frantically looks around to ask for help, she moves closer to him to hug. The pain on her arm leading to her wrist isn’t too bad, but the pain she felt after feeling like she lost him was unbearable. “Don’t go.” She mumbles, tears still prominent on her cheeks. “Don’t leave me. I know I’m being selfish but don’t leave me.”

“Suhyun, your arm–”

“I don’t care, it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt! I hurt. How dare you, how dare you! How dare you!” She cries, her sobbing has gotten louder with each shout. Her head falls on his shoulder, unable to back away. 

Haewon takes a minute to think, reluctantly holding her back. He isn’t sure if this was right, they were doing good, ignoring each other. He thought it was okay. Once his hand envelops her though, his whole body follows suit. He tells his dog to sit, and wait patiently as he lets go of the leash, to wrap her fully in his arms. “I’m sorry.” 

That night, the sun and the moon finally met. 

[apletones]

CONVERSATIONAL  SENTENCE  STARTERS  

❝  you wanna know how i know you’re a good friend— not just for me but in general?  i always feel better after hanging out with you.  ❞

❝  sometimes things aren’t alright and they’re not gonna be okay for a while.  and that’s alright.  as cliche as it sounds it’s okay to not be okay.  give yourself time.  ❞

❝  have you even taken the time to let yourself feel it?  everything that’s been happening.  eventually,  you have to slow down and let it feel real.  ❞

❝   i’m not really the advice type,  but i am damn good at coming up with distractions to forget the bullshit for a while.  ❞

❝  was this not what you expected?  ❞

❝  i think the whole idea of ‘finding yourself’ is kind of bullshit.  we are what we chose to be.  we make ourselves.   ❞

❝  did you come by for a reason or did you just want some company?  ❞

❝  i’m going to tell you this,  once,  because i think you need to hear it.  you deserve more.  you should expect more from the world and put in the work to get what you deserve.  ❞

❝  i brought some seeds for your garden.  i thought about bringing a bouquet but— this way you can grow them and enjoy them longer.  ❞

❝  please,  stay for dinner?  i enjoy your company.  ❞

❝  come sit a little while with me.  tell me how you’ve been?  really.  ❞

❝  you don’t know how glad i am to see you made it.  here,  let me get you a drink.   ❞

❝  if you’d like to discuss it in private,  we can step outside?  ❞

❝  whatever it is you wish to tell me,  it won’t leave this room.  ❞

❝  well,  i’ve been wanting to talk to you.  but i don’t really know how to put it all in words.  ❞

❝  how have you been sleeping?  ❞

❝  don’t take this the wrong way,  but you don’t quite look well.  ❞

❝  don’t feel bad for not knowing—  i was trying not to bother anyone.  you didn’t know because i didn’t let you.  ❞

❝  miscommunication is a shitty trope in sitcoms and it’s even shittier in real life,  so let’s just take a moment to breathe.  and let’s get on the same page.  alright?   ❞

❝  is this a time for me to listen or fix it?  ❞

❝  i don’t really have anything to say,  i just know that i don’t really want to be alone.  ❞

❝  could you just…talk to me?  it doesn’t have to be anything important.  i just like listening to your voice.  it calms me.  ❞

❝  honestly,  it was a long time ago.  i don’t really remember the details.  ❞

❝  i’m rather proud of you.  i don’t say that often,  so believe i mean it.  ❞

❝  you seem content here.  happy,  even?  ❞

❝  i’m not here to drudge up the past.  i’m just hoping we could have a future.  ❞

❝  i see you’re not getting much sleep either.  should i make us both some tea,  then?  ❞

❝  are you sure you didn’t want to mention something to me?  ❞

❝  are you sure you’re alright?  ❞

❝  i’m a fan of your work,  actually.  ❞

❝  you have more of a reputation than you might think.  ❞

❝  you haven’t heard of me?  how refreshing.  ❞

❝  go on,  tell me what’s on your mind.  ❞

❝  something is troubling you,  yes?  ❞

❝  with a smile like that,  i can’t help but want to know your secret.  what’s got you so cheery today?  ❞

❝  come on,  you’re clearly upset.  and i’m not the asshole who pretends not to notice.  ❞

❝  oh,  i’m going to enjoy making my first impression with you.  how am i doing so far?  ❞