Page 31 of Scarbound

Nothing made sense. They lived in different countries. They had no shared friends, no shared life. Nothing connected them except Haneul, who had been gone for years.

Noeul finally fell asleep in the morning, when the sky had already turned blue.

***

During the two days Noeul remained hospitalized, Chung-Hee prepared everything for their departure. Plane tickets. Discharge arrangements. Noeul’s personal belongings. He even contacted Noeul’s employer to confirm that Noeul would not return to the office before his notice period ended.

Late in the afternoon, Chung-Hee decided to visit him again. He found Noeul sitting on the hospital bed, shoulders slumped, head lowered, watching the small old television. Chung-Hee would have bet he hadn’t heard a single word of the comedy playing.

He entered quietly and placed a cup of coffee on the table beside the bed. He took a sip from his own cup, watching Noeul.

“How are you? Want some coffee?” he asked, his voice betraying a trace of awkwardness.

Noeul ignored him, staring into the distance, giving no indication of where his thoughts had gone.

Chung-Hee spoke again, this time with visible enthusiasm. “You seem to enjoy quiet moments. I suppose I’ll do the talking, then.”

He took another sip. “We’re returning to Korea in three hours.”

CHAPTER 12

“I thought you lived in the United States.”

Chung-Hee lifted the cup and brought it to Noeul’s lips. “Drink. It might improve your mood.”

The scent of freshly brewed espresso filled his nose. An Americano was a temptation Noeul could never fully resist. He took a small sip.

“You like coffee,” Chung-Hee remarked with a smile. “Feel free to drink more.”

He raised the cup again. Noeul looked up and met his eyes. Why was he being kind? Something was wrong. He could see through the fake smile.

“No, thank you. I can’t drink any more. My stomach’s a mess.”

Chung-Hee set the cup down and took a discreet sip of his own coffee.

“So,” Noeul said finally, his voice trembling, “you don’t live in the United States anymore?”

Chung-Hee sat down in one of the chairs across from the bed. “I used to. Now I live in Korea. Why do you ask?” He tilted his head slightly. “Are you interested in me?”

His face flushed red.

“Why would I be interested in you?” he snapped.

“That’s a shame,” Chung-Hee replied smoothly. “Because I’m very interested in you. Your facial expressions are fascinating. Despair and depression suit you. I also caught a glimpse of fear in your eyes, but it wasn’t quite enough. I’d be delighted if you gave me more.”

He watched Noeul carefully, his attention fixed on every reaction.

For the first time, Noeul felt genuine fear.

“I’m not leaving with you! Get that through your head. I never want to see you again!” He emphasized every word. “And don’t forget, it’s illegal to take me anywhere without my consent.”

His voice wasn’t loud or angry. It was steady. His exhaustion and despair showed clearly in the way his body resisted even the effort of defiance.

“And yet, you’re returning to Korea,” Chung-Hee replied, pulling a document from his bag.

“Your parents asked me to escort you home. Your father gave me access to the belongings recovered from your apartment and provided the hospital with the information they requested regarding your psychiatric history.”

Noeul’s mouth fell open. His parents’ cooperation did not give Chung-Hee legal authority over him. But the hospital had cleared Noeul for discharge, and Chung-Hee controlled his passport, money, and belongings.