Jae purses his lips together into a soft, heart-melting smile. “We talked about this already, remember? Don’t doubt my intentions.”
“I would never.” I take a bite of buttery gyeranjjim. It's my turn to talk through a full mouth.
“So. Back to the topic at hand. On a real date, you’re going to have to make small talk. You’re good—but you can do better,” Jae instructs.
“Right. So, if you were my date…” I’m stumped all of the sudden. Usually the conversation with Jae flows right out of me, but I’m caught off guard by his attitude. “I guess I’d ask how your day was. How was your day?”
“It was excellent. I had a pretty girl show me how to paint, and now I’m here with you.” Jae gives me the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen. “How was your day?” He pours me a tall glass of ice water.He thinks I’m pretty.
“I had a good day, actually. I spent most of it painting. At a restaurant and at home.”
“What did you paint at home?”
“I painted the city,” I pause for a moment, thinking of the best way to describe the painting I started this afternoon. It’s the first painting I’ve started for pleasure, not for money in a long, long time. My painting is not just of the city.
“What part of the city?” Jae asks me, sipping his water.
“Only one that exists inside my head.”
“Do you have a photo?”
“I don’t,” I say to him, shaking my head.
“Describe it to me.”
I don’t know how to say that the painting is of Jae.
“It’s night-time. The moon is lighting the scene. There’s a building.”
“And?” Jae swallows, waiting for me to continue.
“And you are looking into the window of this building, into this specific apartment, and in the ray of moonlight, you can see a man standing in his kitchen, stirring a pot.”
“And?” he says again, his voice mighty quiet.
“And that’s it. That’s the painting.”
“I’d like to live inside that painting,” Little does he know it’s him inside the painting.
“Maybe you already are,” I answer with a coy smile and sip on my water and take a bite of my dinner. He’ll never know.
“Would you draw me?”
“Only if you cook for me,” Two can bargain.
“I already have!” Jae gestures to my plate.
“Oh…I guess you have.” I have a niggling feeling I’m going to get bullied into doing a drawing. “Do you have pencil and paper? Or a pen will do. I didn’t bring any supplies.”
Jae stands up and motions for me to follow him. We walk down the long hallway at the back of the restaurant, and towards the end he opens a door to what can only be his office. It’s a small, cramped room with no windows and a dim light bulb.There’s a desk with about a thousand papers and a cup with a few pencils.
“Go ahead, sit,” Jae stands in the doorway while I make my way around the desk that practically takes up the entire room. He leans on the doorframe in a way that makes me want to draw him even more.
“Stay right there,” I instruct him. “Don’t move.”
I pick a pencil from the cup on a whim. It’s wrapped with white casing and purple unicorns.How cute.I finally take a long, intentional look at Jae. Drawing is an important part of painting, if not more important than the painting itself. Drawing is understanding how to break things down into shapes and how to reconnect them again.
Jae has a heart-shaped face with a straight, slightly snubbed nose. I lightly sketch the lines to his face, adding in thick lines for his eyebrows and upturned shapes for his eyes. I add in his full lips and lines for his neck. I shade in a shape for his lush, thick hair.
