Page 3 of GR8VITY

"It's okay," I tell him. And, in a way, it really does feel okay. Normally when I'm thinking about her, or telling someone about her, my heart feels like a bag of sand weighing my stomach down. For whatever reason, he's different. I haven't felt the first wave of sadness hit like it usually does.

"Is that how you're so fluent in Korean?" he asks gently.

I nod. "It is. She raised me since I was five years old. Even if she hadn't actively taught me, I would've picked it up anyway since it's all she ever spoke in the comfort of her home. If we'd go out, or if we'd have new foster kids in the house, she'd speak English, of course."

"So, when are you planning on leaving to go home?" he asks.

There's something in his tone that makes me glance over at him. His shoulders are slumped again in the way that he walked off yesterday as he looks out at the lights.

Giving him my full focus, I answer, “Not anytime soon. If ever."

His eyes find mine. "Why with such conviction?"

I shrug. "I fell in love with the city and never want to leave, honestly."

He nods in understanding before his eyes flick down my lips and back up again. It sparks little butterflies to life in my stomach. Clearing his throat, he looks back out to the city, and I follow suit.

"Have you ever been to America?" I ask, not wanting to monopolize the conversation and clear my improper thoughts with a distraction.

Letting out a short huff, his smile can be seen underneath his mask. "I have. I visited last year with some friends."

"Yeah?" I ask, curiosity burning now. "Where did you guys go?"

Thinking on it for a few seconds, he leans back, crossing his legs and grabbing the front knee with his hands. "It was an exploration kind of thing. We went to many different cities."

I've been in South Korea long enough to grasp the vibes rolling off of him right now. I'm confused as to how we've switched from polite conversation to what feels more like an interview. We sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of us willing to break it. Me, because I'm feeling slightly awkward now for asking a personal question, and him, if I had to guess by the lost expression in his gaze, away with the fairies in his thoughts. This whole experience is completely out of character for me. I never have any problems with conversations. Even with strangers. My omma once heard one of my case workers say that I never met a stranger, and she used to repeat it every chance that she could. The only time that I've found that my extrovert self goes into hiding is when I'm sad or lonely, and that was only a recent discovery since I lost her.

He finally relaxes and looks over to me. "This is nice."

"Mmm?" I question, wanting clarification.

He slips the one side of his facemask off again before he adds, "Being able to sit with someone and not feel obligated to fill the silence, or the pressure of being expected to speak."

Again, I'm caught up in the daze of his beautiful face. It's an oval shape that matches well with his high cheek bones and sharp jawline. I catch myself staring at his thin lips as his tongue peeks out to roll the bottom one through his teeth. When I flick my eyes up to his, it's to find him already watching me. I swallow hard and look back out toward the city.

"That doesn't mean that I don't want to talk to you," he assures me. "It's just nice to be able to get lost in your thoughts every once in a while, you know?"

"Mmm, I do," I tell him. "Is that what you're doing walking out here every night?"

When he doesn't answer, I look over to him, and he grins. "Why are you out here every night?"

As someone honest, almost to a fault, I answer him truthfully, "I haven't been sleeping very well lately. So, I do things during the day to try to exhaust my body and mind. If it's not enough, like it has been recently, then I stay up later than I should, trying to be tired enough that I know I'll fall asleep."

"I started coming out for walks to get out of my house," he answers in return. "I love the people that I live with. Sometimes, I just feel like a caged animal, having my entire life controlled and monitored."

More curiosity burns the back of my throat when I want to ask so many questions. I choose to lighten the mood instead. "What kind of animal are you?"

It does the trick, making him bark out a laugh that he tries to hide behind his hand. I laugh with him until he cuts his eyes over to me. "What kind of animal do you think I'd be?"

The way that his voice lowers makes it even deeper than before, and I know without a doubt that he's doing it on purpose with double meaning behind his question. I have never been more grateful in my life that I don't fluster easily. I glance toward the sky and give him a few seconds to watch me contemplating how I'm going to answer before answering, "Well, you don't seem much like a bear to me. They're too aggressive."

"How do you know that I'm not?" he teases.

"I don't," flirting back with him. "But you said that you've seen me out here for a while before you approached me. That's not really bear behavior. Same with a wolf. Though, they both tend to not like captivity."

Then it dawns on me. "Oh, some kind of big cat, maybe? A tiger."

His eyes narrow slightly with the lifting of his cheeks as he smiles. "I think I like that one."