Page 45 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
Oh, Seonbae. I want to tell you but, I can’t. Not now, not ever.
Just let it go, jaebalyo!
‘Go on, I’m waiting.’
‘Um, um, er, but why are you so agitated about it?’ It’s now Timira’s turn to find herself in a spot.
Aila!
‘Huh, why would I be agitated? I’m just, you know, curious! Why can’t I be?’ Timira speaks in a high-pitched, agitated voice.
Hanee had been a little suspicious since watching Haneul hovering around Timira on the terrace, followed by his excessiveinterest in what Timira had read on her phone. She had wondered if her boss had a thing for Timira, but had dismissed the thought since everyone knew that he was off the market.
Something’s definitely up with these two!Timira seems sure of it.
‘Well, if you really don’t care, then forget what you thought you saw, Seonbae. Or take my word for it—there is absolutely no secret I’ve kept from you!’
Timira is unconvinced but doesn’t press any further, fearing it might reveal more of how she feels about Haneul.
My stupid mouth is going to be the end of me! Let me strategize and find a better opportunity to corner Hanee.
‘If you say so …’ Timira shrugs nonchalantly and looks away with a little wave at Hanee’s face. And nearly freezes as she catches Haneul watching her intently. As their eyes lock, she can feel his gaze bore into her skin, and every cell in her body is lit up. Her heart sinks deep inside the pit of her stomach, only to do a somersault and leap outside her body. His mouth slowly dips on one side to reveal the most handsome and devilish lopsided smile Timira has ever seen, and she feels like a million fireworks have gone off in every part of her. Starry-eyed, she’s about to smile back when her trance is rudely interrupted by one of her co-workers who has walked up to Haneul’s bucket seat and is now whispering in his ear. Haneul is up in a flash and out of the VIP stand the entire SecondSkin team is seated in.
Muttering expletives under her breath, a crestfallen Timira turns her head away and inside the tub of corn precariously held between her thighs all this while.
But before she can stuff her face with the fistful of it she has gathered, the stadium erupts. ‘Seoul Stealers FC have drawn first blood. Their marquee signing for the coming season, the world-famous Japanese-Brazilian wonderboy Rodrigo, has brought samba magic to Korea,’ the emcee announces, his voice boomingacross the stadium and ringing in Timira’s head. Rodrigo’s face is plastered on every giant screen around, every camera is focused on him. As if on cue, he runs up to one of them, and makes the heart and kiss sign that he had devised for Timira and would make after scoring every goal while they were dating. Timira nearly chokes on the corn that had finally made their way from her hand to her mouth in an effort to stop herself from cussing out loud. Coughing and spluttering, she sends bits and pieces of mushy corn flying around.
‘Seonbae, you okay? Here, have some water!’ Hanee extends a bottle to Timira. ‘Jeonjeonhi, Seonbae. Drink slowly.’
Timira pats her own head lightly and takes gentle sips out of the bottle.
‘Crap, my shirt is ruined. I’ve got corn and cheese all over. God, I’m such a klutz!’
‘You want a wet tissue? I have some in my bag.’
‘Nah, I’ll have to wash this off. Cheddar smells like rotting feet!’
How does she know what rotting feet would smell like?Hanee wonders but doesn’t ask.
Picking up her satchel bag and ducking so as to not disturb those in the rows behind her, Timira steps out of the stands and breathes for what feels like the first time in a long time.
Ah, finally! I’m not going back in until the game is over. God, such a relief to not have to look at that stupid face!
Somehow resisting the urge to rub some spit on the stain, Timira carefully squeezes some soap on to her palm and with a few drops of water from the sensor tap quickly works up a lather. A minute or so of frenetic rubbing and generous amounts of water-slapping later, the near-entirety of her satin blouse is wet and limply sticking to her bosom.
Yaar, what the hell! Why today of all days when I’m wearing this ridiculous cone bra? Offo! Why do I even own this? Who do I think I am? Marilyn Monroe?
Yanking the stubborn blouse off her skin to keep it from sticking, Timira absent-mindedly walks out of the washroom and manages to nearly bump into Stephanie who deftly skips away to avoid a collision.
‘Whoa! Careful, Ms Marak. You might want to watch where you are going!’
Preoccupied with her shirt, Timira has no time for her snarkiness and mumbles an apology without feeling particularly apologetic. Without waiting for a response, she keeps walking. Away from Stephanie. Still fiddling with her shirt.
But Stephanie isn’t having any of it.
‘Nice choice of lingerie there!’ she giggles loud enough for even the janitors loitering around to hear.
This time, she manages to catch Timira’s attention. But
