Chapter 1: Moonglow – April 17, 2021
Minsu knocked on Yura’s door one Saturday in mid-April. It was quickly answered.
“Come in,” Yura exclaimed, reaching out to grab her friend by the arm and pull her inside.
Minsu quirked an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve been invited to a masked ball,” Yura informed Minsu. “It’s tonight. But Jin isn’t feeling well. He wants to stay with Minhyuk. He wants you to go with me,” Yura informed Minsu.
Her eyes grew wide. “A masked ball? Doesn’t that imply that a mask is required? And a ball gown? I have neither.”
A wide smile spread across Yura’s face. “Lucky for us both, I have two ball gowns and two masks. Jin’s rich friend let me raid her closet and sent me home with both of these options. So you’re coming with me. I will not take no for an answer.” She paused for a moment. “Who knows? You might meet your Prince Charming tonight.”
Minsu highly doubted that.
—
She stepped out into the garden. She was bored already. She wasn’t going to meet her mystery man here tonight. Such things happened only in books. The truth about masked balls was that they were hot and stuffy and extremely boring. She’d removed her mask at one point to drink a large glass of cinnamon punch, so she wouldn’t faint from the heat. But she was still feeling queasy.
She’d been here for over an hour. Yura had been invited to dance several times, but Minsu had been the consummate wallflower. She was tired of standing in a lonely corner of the ballroom, watching the crown moulding age. So she slipped out through the wide double doors into a lush garden that surrounded the back of the building. It was lit by lanterns that had been strung up above the garden. It was a terribly romantic spot.
What a waste.
All the handsome gentlemen were inside asking other girls to dance. As usual. If only she did have a knight in shining armor to rendezvous with in this beautiful garden. That would have been so lovely.
She trod alone down a walking path. The soles of her shoes clacking against the flat rocks forming that path. The further she moved away from the building, the better she could breathe. And the better she felt.
She tore the mask off her face and took a deep breath. Relishing the fresh air. The garden was cool. After a few minutes, she realized she was actually becoming a little chilled. She reached up to chafe her arms in an attempt to stir up some heat. Then, she headed back towards the building.
She stopped suddenly as she came upon the bench she’d passed a few moments ago. It had been empty then. Now it was occupied. By a gorgeous man. He was dressed in a black tuxedo. He glanced up and saw her countenance glowing under the moonlight.
He stood up abruptly. The top half of his face was hidden by a black mask. Just a simple black mask. No embellishments or swirls or flairs. But coupled with his midnight hair and raven tuxedo, that mask made him appear quite dashing. The shadows created by the moonlight and the lush vegetation surrounding them were disguising him further.
For a moment, she felt uncomfortable. But then he spoke, and the rich timbre of his voice soothed her. He was whispering as he bowed deeply to her.
“Good evening, milady. You are ethereal tonight. Under the moonlight.”
Her lips quirked. “Are you writing me a poem, sir?”
One dark eyebrow twitched. “Pardon?”
“‘You are ethereal tonight. Under the moonlight,’” she quoted him. “It’s a great rhyme, but I think the count isn’t quite right. It should be something like ‘You are ethereal tonight. Heavenly under the moonlight.’
“Hmm,” he mused. “Beneath its timeless glow, no flaw in you does show.”
She gasped. “Oh! That’s just perfect. Though each line was a beat of six syllables. Your first lines were eight. Shall we reconcile them?”
He gazed at her. Suddenly, he smiled. It lit up his whole face; though she wasn’t sure how she knew that when his countenance was half-covered by that mask.
“Would you care to sit with me?” He gestured towards the bench.
His voice was still that wispy thread of breath. But it was giving her happy chills. She felt very drawn to him. She sighed. She’d been pulled towards Naru too, she reminded herself disgruntledly.
“Please. Would you just sit with me for a few minutes? I’m a songwriter. I’d love to finish this poem with you.”
She gazed at him. “You promise you won’t hurt me?”
“Hurt you?” His voice suddenly went up an octave. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but then it was gone. “I would never dream of hurting you. I simply want to enjoy your delightful company.” He bent forward then as though confiding a secret. “That ball is dreadfully dull.”
“Oh! Do you really think so? I feel the same way! It’s horrendous. Why does anyone throw such a thing?”
“It’s supposed to be romantic, I guess,” he murmured very softly.
“It is when one is out here in this garden,” she commented as she sat down on the bench next to him.
“Indeed.” But his dark eyes were not on the garden. They were on her face.
She had been gazing up at the moon. She glanced down into those mesmerizing eyes a moment later and felt an odd frisson of happy tension flow from his dark gaze into hers. She nearly gasped from the electricity sparking between them when his hand accidentally brushed hers a moment later. All the things she’d dreamed of were happening right now.
Her heart began to pick up its pace. Could this man possibly be as romantic as he seemed?
She knew one place she could start in testing him. “All right. Let’s begin.
“You are ethereal tonight,
Heavenly under the moonlight;
Beneath its timeless glow,
No flaw in you does show.”
She met his gaze. “It’s beautiful. Can you beat it?”
His lips pressed together for a few moments as he hummed. Then, he began to whisper sweet words near her ear as he bent towards her again.
“You’re radiant under the moon.
I hope we don’t have to part soon.
Your lips a perfect bow,
Can we please take it slow?”
“Wow. That’s fantastic. You followed the pattern too. Eight-eight-six-six.”
“Your turn,” he murmured.
“Mine, eh?” She eyed him. “All right.” But then she shivered.
He noticed. “Are you cold?”
She nodded. “A little. That’s why I was headed back inside.”
“Allow me,” he whispered in that odd, breathy voice. Then he shrugged his shoulders out of his coat of tails and draped it across her back. “Please. Wear it.”
Overwhelmed, she stared up at him as her heart bent towards him for this little kindness.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she put her arms in the sleeves and was instantly overcome by his heat. The warmth his body had created in that piece of fabric stole the chill from her skin. Suddenly, she grinned at him. The moonlight bounced off her teeth and made him smile.
Then she began to rhyme.
“That pale light casts a blue sheen
Upon your raven locks so keen.
Your midnight hair does gleam.
Are you, sir, who you seem?”
“Bravo,” he clapped. “Bravo. Any more?” He bent a curious stare on her.
“Hmm. Let me see…
“Are you a figment of my mind,
Something perfect, glorious, kind?
Or just a lovely dream,
Born on a bright moonbeam?”
“Wow. That was beautiful,” he whispered in that raspy voice. It was filled with awe. “Maybe you’re the songwriter.”
“No. Just a poet. When I’m not spilling coffee, that is.”
He chuckled briefly. “What do you mean?”
“I work in a coffee shop.”
“Don’t you mean pouring coffee?”
“Hmm. Something like that.”
He smiled at her. “I’d love to try your coffee. Perhaps a scone too,” he murmured. “You realize we have four stanzas now. Shall we put them all together?”
She nodded. He recited his lines. Then she recited hers.
“You are ethereal tonight,
Heavenly under the moonlight;
Beneath its timeless glow,
No flaw in you does show.
“You’re radiant under the moon.
I hope we don’t have to part soon.
Your lips a perfect bow,
Can we please take it slow?”
“That pale light casts a blue sheen
Upon your raven locks so keen.
Your midnight hair does gleam.
Are you, sir, who you seem?
“Are you a figment of my mind,
Something perfect, glorious, kind?
Or just a lovely dream,
Born on a bright moonbeam?”
“Wow. We’re really good at this. Would you like to join me in becoming a world-class songwriter?”
“Oh, absolutely, kind sir! Hmm. But our phenomenal song needs a title. How about…”
“Moonbeam!” they both exclaimed simultaneously. Then they laughed.
She glanced sharply at him. For just a moment, that something mysterious niggled at the back of her mind again. She felt like she already knew him. None of her customary nervousness was surfacing. She wasn’t even stuttering.
“Are you not missing the dancing?” he asked suddenly.
“I was missing the dancing even when I was at the dance,” she mumbled.
“What? You mean, no one asked you to dance?” He sounded truly astonished. “Are they all blind?”
She turned sharply towards him then as a tear invaded her eye. “You are too kind, sir.”
“Why so formal?” he asked huskily.
“Well, we are strangers.”
“Hmm. In that case…” He stood up, then he bowed to her with a sweeping gesture of his right hand. “Milady, may I have this dance?”
She glanced up at him and smiled. “But there is no music, sir.”
He stopped and tilted his head to the side. “Can’t you hear it?”
She followed the tilt of his head with her own. But she still couldn’t hear it. Then, suddenly, a humming erupted from him. Followed by vocalizing to a beautiful melody she’d never heard. Next, he began to sing. The words of their new song.
He was still holding his hand out to her. Even as his lovely words and captivating melody wrapped around her. Filling her with a sense of wonder that was punctuated by moonlight and the scent of awakening vegetation.
“You are ethereal tonight,
Heavenly under the moonlight;
Beneath its timeless glow,
No flaw in you does show.
“You’re radiant under the moon…” Suddenly, he broke off.
“You are, you know?” he whispered.
“What?” she asked as she continued to gaze up at his gorgeous face.
“You are ethereal tonight. Radiant under the moonglow.”
Why was her heart beating so hard? She could feel it flowing into her veins. She could hear it rushing into her ears. He was stunningly beautiful in this garden. Was he that gorgeous without his mask on?
His voice was surrounding her with beauty. And comfort.
Why?
She wanted to slide into his arms and dance the night away under the stars. How had he known that she had been quite disappointed not to dance? That not one man had noticed her. Yet…he had. He was noticing her right now.
She stood up. She reached out and took his hand.
“I’d love to dance with you.”
As he pulled her gently into his arms, she was overcome by a flood of emotions. His arms slid around her waist, drawing her up against his chest. She gazed up into those gleaming eyes of his. She couldn’t discern their color, but they were quite dark. His nose was hidden under the mask as were his cheekbones and his eyebrows. But she could see the perfect bow of his lips. They were curved into a sweet smile now as he gazed down at her.
She slid her arms around his neck.
He continued to sing their song to her. His voice was doing strange things to her heart. Was it possible to be wooed by a melody and some lyrics? By moonlight and the scent of a garden? By a sweet voice in the dark?
Then he reached up and slid his fingers over hers, and a thousand shivers invaded that hand. He pulled it up against his chest and began to direct her around the garden. They moved this way and that. And back again.
At one point a lantern burned brightly near his face, illuminating it. She was shocked at how handsome he was. Even if she couldn’t see the center of his face. His eyes were completely captivating. And his raven hair was so dashing, the way his midnight locks fell across his brow. She had to fight the urge to slide her fingers through their softness.
She stared deeply into his eyes for several long moments. And felt the shifting of her own heart. How could she feel this excited to be held by a perfect stranger?
Maybe that was why. He was perfect. The man was a paragon of beauty. Unless he was hiding some disfiguration or scar under that mask.
But his eyes promised beauty. So did his lips. She was so drawn to them, gleaming softly in the gentle light of the lanterns overhead.
He leaned towards her, and his breath flowed over her lips. “What are you thinking about?”
“How amazingly comfortable I feel in your presence. Which is quite strange for me. Usually, I’m nervous around strangers. But I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
He smiled. “I feel it too. It’s extraordinary, isn’t it?”
She nodded up at him. Once again, captivated by those lips. She wondered what they would taste like. Had he sampled the punch too? Would they feel as soft as they looked?
Suddenly, he dipped his head towards hers, and his cheek pressed up against hers as he whispered in her ear, “Can you linger with me a little longer? I feel like we have stumbled upon a secret garden. Some special spot created for just you and me.”
His breath was flowing over her skin and tickling her ear. She shivered. She had never – not in all her life – been this attracted to anyone. She was melting in his arms. Could he tell?
“Yes,” she whispered.
He turned his head then, and the tip of his nose grazed hers. She felt his breath pass over her lips, and a million tremors erupted in her stomach. He drew himself gently away from her and gazed down into her eyes. She bit her lip. Unwittingly drawing his attention to it.
“You have the most beautiful mouth,” he murmured.
The corners of that mouth quirked upward. “I do?”
“Mmhmm. I wonder what it feels like. Is it soft?”
She stopped breathing as her eyes connected with his. She was considering inviting him to kiss her. But, surely, that was absurd! She didn’t even know him, but she could feel some strange connection pulling them nearer each other. She found she had no wish to fight it.
“Come,” she whispered. “Find out.”
It was all the invitation he required. He bent his head, and his lips brushed hers, and the world tilted on its axis. All the air that had finally returned to her lungs left them again as his soft lips brushed hers tenderly.
Really, it was the barest of kisses. Nothing sultry or devastating. But it held a tender awe. It did, in fact, feel as if he were worshipping her lips. Just the weakest of salutations being played out upon the bow of her mouth. A gentle brush of his soft lips against her own.
So why did she feel like the ground beneath her feet had just shifted? And why did a heat wave erupt in the pit of her stomach and flow outward to invade her limbs? Making them weak.
She clung to him as she surrendered her mouth to his own in the sweetest kiss she’d ever known. Her stomach was in an upheaval. It seemed to be having a party and issuing invitations to every nerve in her body.
But all her senses were trained on her lips. The caress of his mouth against hers was wreaking havoc on her breathing. Perhaps some of those invitations had been rerouted to her lungs and were clogging up the works. But she continued to revel in the tender touch of his sweet lips upon her own. Until he finally drew away from her. And she suffered a great disappointment at the severing of their connection. She felt suddenly…bereft.
