San knows that, if it was anyone else, the other staff members would’ve put up a fight.
They would’ve been difficult, would’ve been overbearing. Would’ve committed to whatever promise they’d made with his grandfather, fighting tooth and nail. Would’ve done a lot of things – had it not been Yiseul.
But, even as she exchanges greetings and nervous laughter with everyone around her, San can already tell that she’s won. Their eyes are soft on her and their smiles a little too forgiving. They shush and tut at her, swiftly gathering their coats and purses, throwing out some halfhearted excuse of we were just on our way out, don’t worry, dear, sit, sit!
(The world is soft for Yiseul, San thinks.)
Her ears turn an alarming shade of red and San doesn’t know if he should be concerned by that or by her sudden quiet, instead. Tea will help. He lets his hand drop reluctantly, smiling wryly as he takes a step back, a step away.
“I wish I could see the town, too. Maybe later…” San pauses, halfway towards the makeshift tea station one of the aunts had set up earlier in the morning. “…Would you go with me? If you’re still here, I mean.”
It’s a simple request, but San finds himself embarrassed still. She was exhausted, wasn’t she? She had just told him she spent the entire day running around, why would she –
“I’ll make something that will be good for you. Trust me,” he cuts off his own wayward thoughts abruptly. Lets her voice ground him, instead. As she settles down, cheek flat against the table, San moves quickly, taking a moment to study the trays of dried hanyak ingredients in front of him. “Did you have a favorite that you tried so far? Or… least favorite?” He smiles faintly as he drops a few clementine peels into a fresh tea bag. Adds a handful of dried omija berries. Dandelions, ginger. Thinks of the flush of her cheeks and her exhaustion. Grabs the ingredients that he thinks would be best and hopes that they’ll be enough to soothe her. Trust me.
By the time he returns to the table, gauze pouch already steeping in the tea pot, Yiseul is still draped over the table. He takes the empty seat beside her and intentionally drapes himself over the table too, cheek pressed flat to the surface, tired eyes studying the slope of her nose.
“We had a few patients come by, but nothing too exciting,” San tries to recall what had exhausted him so much all morning. Tries to remember the handsy grandmothers and huffy grandfathers and endless, endless questions – but, too distracted by the lilt of her voice, comes up emptyhanded. His day begins here, he thinks. He hopes. He forgets his earlier embarrassment and tries again. “I think you should stay. When the other clerks come back, I can go out.”
And then, braver: “I want to see the festival with you.”
she’s caught off guard by the older men and women leaving — she didn’t expect that.from her time visiting the clinic, she knew that most of the staff were stubborn, stuck in their ways, she could hardly imagine them leaving their posts!
there must have been something going on. maybe they all had a gathering to attend to? maybe all their grandchildren had performances on the stage? well it wasn’t exactly a bad thing, it must have been quite boring to stay stuck in a tent all day with a festival in full swing only a distance away.
“ah...i guess it was rude to offer them leftovers rather than buying them something,” yiseul mutters her words trailing off, as she watched the last staff member leave with a quick bow. “ how embarrassing, i should have known better.”
the writer clears her throat, her gaze falls to the ground, mentally counting to herself to ease the anxiety in her chest. one..two..three..fou-it’s only when san’s fingers fall from her hair, it’s only when yiseul watches the man’s shoes take a step back that she finds the courage to look up.
ironically she can’t find the words to speak, so different from her rambling antics moments before. oh he was saying something, what did he say? the woman had been stuck in her own mind she had missed the majority of what san had said, only catching the tail end.
“i plan to stay into the evening, i want to dedicate at least a whole chapter on the festival,” her fingers brush through her own ponytail, her eyes shifting around the tent, “ if you don’t mind, i’m sure you must have other people you want to see, i’m still a bit new so i don’t know many others..”
the nervous energy lingered like humidity in the tent, yiseul wondered if it’d ever leave, maybe her brain was just overthinking because of her exhaustion. her stomach flips at his words, trust me. “ so serious san-ssi, i’m not the queen of joseon no need to impress me over some tea..” her words are light, hoping the joke would woosh the awareness that hung over there.
the curiosity that seemed to flow like blood through yiseul was taken over by her exhaustion, she didn’t even bother peeking over san’s shoulder as she would usually, instead she remained at her seat, letting the table cool her temperature down. “ yes, i think some stand made a cotton candy kimbap? it was so sweet, after one bite i felt like my teeth were decaying the second it passed my lips,” she shivers, thinking about the bright pink tube filled with sweets. “ i felt bad, but it was my least favorite thing.. so i’d skip that if you pass by it.”
a chuckle escapes her lips as san mirrors her position on the table, it reminds her of how she would mimic her best friends back home when they were younger. “this can’t be good for our back san-ssi. or the best position for tea drinking,” she mutters, but it was nice, to see san up close without the fear of doctor kang or any staff members returning at the moment. he always seemed burdened by something, something that yiseul was always afraid to ask.
“there’s nothing boring about helping people..” she replies, before sitting up and looking expectedly at the tea, “ they must have enjoyed their time here if they were being served tea by you, “ the compliment leaves her lips before her shyness could stop it, causing her to flush once more.
her stomach flips again at san’s suggestion. she doesn’t exactly understand why they were friends right, it wasn’t weird to spend the festival with one another. yet it still flutters, “ sure, it should be fun, i’m positive that the decorations must be even prettier at night.”
