As Eileen lingered with Jimin that evening, they stared down at the Parisian skyline, its multitude of lights casting their glow over the bustling city. Overwhelmed by its beauty, she sighed. Then she spoke.
“I never see the city like this. From this vantage point. So high up. It’s so beautiful. I’ll have to paint it.” She pulled out her phone and began to take some pictures.
“Beautiful. Glowing. Like you,” he smiled at her.
His intense eyes were devouring her face, but she was unaware as she snapped photographs of the skyline. He studied her captivating profile. His eyes took in the creamy expanse of her forehead. A few auburn tendrils had fallen over her brow. He loved the contrast between her milky skin and her flaming hair. He wanted to reach up and run his fingers through it.
He glanced around. The area had begun to clear out. There weren’t very many people around them now. He scrutinized each one, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to him or Eileen. He decided it was worth the risk. He just had to touch her again.
He reached up and brushed his fingers through the hair at her temple. Surprised, she turned towards him. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into his eyes. The way he was looking at her completely melted her. She was undone. She grabbed the railing to prevent herself from collapsing. No man had ever looked at her the way Jimin was right now.
His eyes weren’t even focused on her face. He was looking at her hair. But his face held an expression of such sweet awe that she wanted to cry. She felt his gentle fingers combing through her locks and brushing along her scalp.
A moment later, his gaze shifted to meet hers, and her stomach flipped over. Oh! He was making her hungry for so many things. She felt like simultaneously bursting into tears and singing exultantly. She realized she was holding her breath. Waiting for something wonderful.
Then it came. Jimin leaned towards her as his fingers tangled themselves within her auburn tresses. His soft lips found her own in a kiss that she felt all the way to her toes. Maybe even to the tips of her fingers. She was weeping. Weeping from the magic of the moment and the awareness that this time with him was so precious, so fleeting.
As he began to pull away from her finally, she whispered against his mouth, “I love you, Jimin. I love you so much.” Then she blinked and several tears slid down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, love-uh-ly,” he whispered across her lips before pressing his mouth into hers again. His thumb began to trace a circle along her temple. While his fingers caressed her hair tenderly.
“Jimin,” she whispered.
He was making her yearn for things she couldn’t have. The tears kept flowing. She began to sob. She tried to hold it back. But the truth was that no one had ever touched her as tenderly as Jimin was right now. And she realized how starved for such affection she had been for her entire life. She was famished for it. She’d been dying inside for years looking for such tenderness. For such pure love.
Now she had found it with a beautiful boy from South Korea. But she couldn’t have him. Not really. They lived so far apart. And his job took him all over the world and monopolized almost all of his time. So these few precious hours they had over the next three days were all she was likely to get. For a very long time.
Jimin lifted his head and pulled her into his arms. She landed against his strong chest and buried her face over his heart. Then she let loose the tears that had been accumulating inside her soul for years. A flood of them watered Jimin’s shirt, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Eileen. How could he make her feel better?
—
Suddenly, a scene from earlier in the day returned to her. As Jimin had driven the car towards the little town on the edge of which they’d spent an entire night sleeping in a green field on his birthday, Eileen had recalled Jimin’s first question earlier today. Then she had turned to him and offered him a response. Over an hour later.
“Home.”
Eileen had spoken, but Jimin hadn’t understood.
“What?”
“You asked me if you still looked the same. You look like home.”
The most vulnerable expression overwhelming his countenance, Jimin had looked at her. “What did you say?”
“You look like home, Jimin.”
His eyes had been devastated, but she hadn’t understood why. “Jimin, what’s wrong?”
“No one has ever said that to me before. I doubt anyone has ever even thought it.”
“I’ve thought it. I do think it. I believe it, Jimin. You are my home.” She had sighed as a tear had rolled down her cheek. “I’ve never had a home before,” she had whispered. “I’ve never known the comforting presence of a place that is a safe harbor from the storms of life. A place where I can be myself with those around me. Where I’ll be safe to be me. Where I won’t be in danger of getting slapped or having what I cherish ripped from me. The closest thing I’ve had to a home is my apartment here. But it’s not a home. I’m all alone in those rooms.” She had turned and smiled at him. “But when I’m with you, I know you accept me, Jimin. More than that. I know you’d fight for me. Home is a person. Jimin, home is you.”
