I stand at the corner of a quiet street, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of Seonho. The midday sun casts a warm glow, making the waiting a bit more bearable. I fidget with my phone, checking the time and messages, trying to look nonchalant. We were supposed to meet here in about three minutes. Over the last few weeks, Seonho has become something of an expert on arranging secretive dates in obscure places, and he likes to pick the most random times to have them. A car approaches, not one I recognize. It's sleek, black, and unfamiliar.
The car slows down as it nears me, and my heart skips a beat. I take a step back, wary of the unexpected. The tinted window rolls down smoothly, revealing Seonho behind the wheel with a smile that always seems to be tied to trouble.
"Get in," he says, eyes twinkling with excitement.
I hesitate for a second before opening the passenger door and sliding in. The car smells new and expensive, definitely not his usual ride.
"What's with the car?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as I buckle up.
Seonho chuckles and glances over at me. "Borrowed it from my manager. It's boring and nondescript, so totally not me and less likely to be on the paps' radar."
"Smart move," I reply, relaxing into the seat. "And where exactly are we on a secret mission to today?" I ask, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression as he navigates through the city streets.
"You'll see," he says cryptically, a grin playing on his lips.
I lean back and watch the cityscape blur by as we drive.
Seonho drives us through the bustling streets of Seoul, taking turns that lead us further away from the modern high-rises and neon signs. We eventually arrive at a quiet, traditional village tucked away from the city's chaos. He parks the car in front of an old-fashioned building that exudes history and charm. The wooden structure with its curved eaves and clay-tiled roof stands out against the backdrop of contemporary Seoul.
"Today we're taking a little trip back in time," Seonho says, stepping out of the car and offering me his hand.
I take it, feeling a rush of excitement as I step onto the cobblestone path leading to the hanok. The air is filled with the scent of blooming flowers and aged wood, creating a serene atmosphere. We walk inside, greeted by a server who bows politely before guiding us to a private room.
The room is beautifully decorated with traditional Korean furnishings—low wooden tables, silk cushions, and paper lanterns casting a soft glow. The server sets up a tea service for us, complete with delicate porcelain cups and a steaming pot of green tea.
"This place is amazing," I whisper to Seonho as we settle down on the floor cushions.
He smiles, pouring tea into my cup with a grace that surprises me. "I thought you'd like it. It's peaceful here."
We sip our tea in comfortable silence, enjoying the tranquility. The server returns with an array of dishes—kimchi, bulgogi, japchae, and other traditional Korean delicacies. As we start eating, I notice a closet in the corner of the room. Curious, I ask our server about it.
"That closet contains traditional hanboks for guests to wear," she explains with a warm smile. "Feel free to try them on if you'd like."
My eyes light up at the idea. "Oh, hell yeah."
He looks at me skeptically, but can't resist my enthusiasm. "Alright, I'll play along."
I giggle as we open the closet and find beautifully crafted hanboks—one for a man and one for a woman. The vibrant colors and intricate patterns are mesmerizing. We take our chosen outfits to an adjoining room to change.
When we return, Seonho looks like he stepped straight out of a historical drama. He adjusts his hat awkwardly while I smooth out my skirt.
"You look like a nobleman from the Joseon dynasty," I tease him.
He strokes an imaginary mustache and adopts an exaggeratedly regal posture. "Indeed, Lady Iseul," he declares in an old Korean dialect. "I am Lord Seonho, master of this humble abode."
I burst into laughter as he continues his antics throughout lunch, issuing commands to imaginary servants and pretending to scold invisible subjects for their incompetence.
"Fetch me more kimchi!" he demands imperiously at one point, making me nearly choke on my tea from laughing so hard.
As we finish our meal, I notice an old gayageum—a traditional Korean harp-like instrument—in the corner of the room. I turn to Seonho, flashing him a playful grin.
"Ah, but of course, my noble lord would know how to play that, wouldn't you? You are, of course, a master of the arts and I should expect any yangban family worth their coins would make sure the young master was schooled in the basics."
Seonho raises an eyebrow at my challenge, a smirk playing on his lips. "You think I can't play it? I'll have you know, Lady Iseul, that I did take lessons when I was younger."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, right. Prove it then."
With exaggerated pomp, Seonho strides over to the gayageum and motions for me to help him move it to the center of the room. Together, we haul the instrument over, its weight surprising me. He fluffs out his sleeves dramatically and sits down with all the grace of a nobleman preparing to entertain his court.
"Prepare to be amazed," he declares, placing his fingers on the strings with an air of confidence.
I sit back, arms crossed, watching with amusement and skepticism. Seonho begins to pluck at the strings, and the first few notes are … not exactly harmonious. He fumbles through a melody that sounds vaguely familiar but mostly off-key.
I wince as he continues to struggle with the instrument, each note more painful than the last. His brow furrows in concentration, but it's clear he's having a hard time remembering how to play. After a few excruciating minutes, he finally stops and looks up at me sheepishly.
"Okay, okay," he admits, holding up his hands in surrender. "I don't remember much from those lessons."
A fit of giggles overtakes me as I see his defeated expression. "Oh my god, that was terrible!" I manage to say between laughs. "But I'll forgive your lack of proper noble schooling if you'll join me in the garden."
Seonho's eyes light up at my suggestion. "But of course," he says with a grin. He stands and holds out his arm gentility and with a theatrical flourish. "Come, my good lady, I shall escort you. You simply must see the pear tree. My great-great-grandfather planted it himself from a seed cultivated from King Sejong's own orchard!"
I fall into a fit of giggles and slap at his arm but end up taking it, letting him pull me up. We both stand and head towards the sliding door that leads out to the garden. The moment we step outside, we're greeted by a beautiful sight—manicured hedges, vibrant flowers in full bloom, and a small koi pond with fish lazily swimming around.
"This place is so beautiful," I say, taking in the serene atmosphere.
We stroll through the garden, the scent of blooming flowers filling the air. Seonho's arm is linked with mine, and he continues his ridiculous play-acting, making me laugh so hard my sides hurt.
"Ah, Lady Iseul," he says in a pompous tone, waving his hand grandly. "Do you see that hedge over there? That is where my serfs toil day and night to maintain its perfect shape. It is said that if even one leaf is out of place, they must trim the entire hedge again!"
I giggle, shaking my head at his absurdity. "You really have them working hard, don't you?"
"But of course," he replies, lifting his chin as if to appear more regal. "A nobleman's estate must be kept in impeccable condition at all times."
We reach a small bridge over a koi pond, and Seonho stops to peer into the water. "Behold, my lady," he says with a flourish. "The royal koi fish, descendants of the great fish that swam in the Emperor's pond. They are fed only the finest crumbs from my kitchen."
I lean over the railing, watching the colorful fish swim lazily below us. "They're stunning," I say softly.
Seonho turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And do you know what else is beautiful? The Lady of the House who will one day preside over all this grandeur."
He takes a step back and drops to one knee, raising his arms dramatically. "Lady Iseul, it is my honor and privilege to proclaim you as the rightful mistress of this estate. Will you accept this noble title and rule by my side?"
I can't help but burst into laughter at his theatrics. He looks up at me with such earnestness that it's impossible not to be charmed by him.
"Oh, Seonho," I say between giggles. "You are ridiculous."
He stands up and steps closer to me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Is that a yes?" he asks playfully.
I roll my eyes but can't suppress my smile. "Sure, why not? I'll be your Lady of the House."
"Splendid!" he exclaims, taking my hand and twirling me around under the branches of a plum tree. "We shall have grand feasts and entertain distinguished guests from all corners of the land!"
As he continues to spin me around, I feel a surge of happiness bubbling up inside me. The sunlight filters through the leaves above us, casting dappled shadows on our faces. In this moment, everything feels perfect.
Seonho finally stops twirling me and pulls me close, still grinning like a fool. His tall black hat—part of his costume—sits crookedly on his head.
"You know," I say softly, reaching up to adjust it. "This hat doesn't suit you at all."
He raises an eyebrow in mock offense. "Really? I thought it added to my noble charm."
I laugh and gently lift the hat off his head, setting it aside on a nearby bench. "Nope," I say with a grin. "You look much better without it."
Seonho's expression softens as he gazes down at me, our faces inches apart. The playful atmosphere shifts slightly, becoming more intimate.
"Iseul," he murmurs, his voice losing its exaggerated tone.
Without thinking, I pull him closer under the plum tree and press my lips against his. The kiss is gentle at first but quickly deepens as our feelings for each other come rushing to the surface.
Seonho wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly as if afraid I'll disappear if he lets go. My heart races in response to his touch, and I lose myself in the moment—the warmth of his embrace, the taste of his lips.
When we finally pull away, we're both breathless and slightly dazed. Seonho rests his forehead against mine, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"Wow," he whispers.
"Yeah," I reply with a grin.
We stand there for a moment longer, savoring the connection we've just shared under the plum tree's shade.
"I think I'm going to like being your Lady of the House," I say teasingly.
Seonho snorts and kisses my forehead gently. "And I think I'm going to love having you by my side."
* * *
Seonho's manager's car hums quietly as it glides through the city streets. I tap my fingers against the dash, humming to a song on the radio next to Seonho, my mind replaying our date. I just feel … light. Like today was magic and adventure. I realize it's often like this with Seonho. He's always pulling something new to make my head spin and my heart flutter. I kind of don't want today to end yet. I glance at Seonho, who's staring out the window with a relaxed smile on his face.
"Hey," I say, breaking the comfortable silence. "Can we stop at a mini-mart?"
Seonho turns to me, his mischievous smile widening. "A mini-mart? Is there something there that you find more satisfying than a gourmet traditional Korean meal?"
I nod, grinning back at him. "You joke, but actually one of my favorite things about moving to Korea was discovering all the snacks in the mini-marts."
Seonho laughs but stops the navigation on the car dash screen and redirects us to the nearest mini-mart.
Within minutes, we're pulling up on the street beside of a brightly lit convenience store. The neon signs flicker invitingly, casting a warm glow over the pavement.
As we step out of the car, Seonho takes my hand and leads me inside. The cool air from the store's air conditioning washes over us, a welcome relief from the humid night outside.
We head to the freezer section first and dig through the case together; I grab a Melona and Seonho grabs a Ba-bar, holding the package in his teeth as he closes the lid and winking at me.
As we wander through the aisles, I grab a few more of my favorite snacks—chocopie and pepper. Seonho grabs several bags of shrimp chips and a single bag of Honey Butter.
I arch a brow at all the shrimp chips stuffed under his arms and the single bag of Honey Butter chips pinched between his fingers.
"Are those special or something?"
He takes the Ba-bar out of his mouth to answer, grinning. "These are Jaewook's favorite."
I blink in surprise. "Really?"
Seonho laughs softly. "Yeah, he's obsessed with them. Whenever we're on set or traveling for work, he always has a stash of these in his bag."
I smirk, amused at the image of Jaewook sneaking honey butter chips between takes on set. I wouldn't have thought he was the sweet type, as composed as he is, but I suppose you should never assume.
We make our way to the counter and pay for our snacks before heading back to the car.
Seonho's hand is warm in mine as we step out of the mini-mart, our arms loaded with snacks. The night air feels heavy, almost suffocating after the cool inside of the store. I glance at Seonho, his eyes darting around, and suddenly he stiffens.
"Iseul," he whispers urgently, yanking me towards him and steering us back into the shadows beside the building. "Photographer."
I follow his gaze and spot a figure lurking near a parked car across the street, a camera slung around his neck. My heart pounds in my chest. How did they find us?
Seonho seems to read my mind. "Probably recognized my manager's car," he mutters, his eyes scanning for an escape route. "We need to get out of here."
We slip back into the mini-mart, the bell above the door chiming our return. The cashier gives us a puzzled look as we approach him.
"Can you help us?" Seonho asks, pulling out his wallet. "There's a photographer outside. We need to get away without being seen."
The cashier's eyes widen, but he nods quickly, pocketing the money Seonho hands him. "I'll lock the front door and pretend it's malfunctioning. You two can sneak out the back."
We huddle near the back exit, waiting for our cue. My heart races with every passing second, the thrill of our escape mingling with anxiety.
Minutes later, we hear the front door chime again and muffled voices as the photographer enters.
"Sorry," the cashier says loudly, "the doors are stuck. Give me a moment to fix them."
Seonho squeezes my hand and nods towards the back door. We slip out silently, breaking into a run as soon as we're outside. The car is just around the corner, and we toss our snacks into the back seat in a hurry.
Seonho jumps into the driver's seat and starts the engine while I duck down in my seat.
"Did he see my face?" I ask breathlessly, peeking up just enough to see Seonho's reassuring smile.
"No way," he says confidently as he pulls away from the curb. "I spotted him before he could get close enough."
Despite his assurance, unease gnaws at me. The thrill of our escape fades quickly under the weight of potential exposure. I lean back in my seat, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Why do they always have to ruin everything?" I mutter irritably.
Seonho reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. "Hey, don't let it spoil our night," he says softly. "We got away clean."
I nod, but can't shake off my concern completely. It's always like this—one moment of freedom followed by a reminder of how closely I'm watched.
Seonho turns on some music to lighten the mood, and we drive through the city with snacks scattered across the backseat and adrenaline still buzzing in our veins.