Chapter 11. A Lullaby of Raindrops
Rain is falling. My pen stops over the tablet. Every time I see the streaks of rain outside the window, my work efficiency plummets. It's not because I hate the sound of rain. If anything, the problem is that I love it too much.
"...Sigh." I let out a sigh and set the pen down. On the monitor, a cover illustration with only two days left until the deadline glares back at me, about eighty percent complete. I check the clock. 9:30 PM. For dinner, I made a simple egg fried rice. Just a quick toss of leftover green onions, eggs, and yesterday's rice from the fridge. Eating alone is over in a flash. Washing the dishes is just as quick. When those quick moments pile up, they become a day, and when days pile up, they become a week.
I get up from my studio chair and walk out into the living room. Sitting on the sofa, I grab the remote. Turning on the TV drowns out the sound of the rain a little. I flip to a random channel and stare blankly at the screen. On a variety show, people are babbling about something, captions flash across the screen, and canned laughter plays. It isn't funny at all.
Just then, the doorbell rings.
"..."
At this hour? In this rain?
I stand up and walk to the front door. I check the intercom screen. A woman is standing there. Her long, straight black hair drapes over one shoulder, and instead of her usual cold expression, her face looks somewhat exhausted. She is holding a small paper bag in one hand. Park Chaewon. I open the door.
"...Siu-ssi."
Chaewon stands there. She is wearing a thin cardigan over light purple silk pajamas, with slippers on her feet. It's the attire of someone who simply walked down two flights of stairs from the floor above. The attire of someone who hasn't stepped foot outside.
"At this hour?"
At my question, Chaewon bows her head slightly. She holds out the paper bag.
"I went to a dessert cafe earlier today, and the madeleines were delicious. I thought you might like some, Siu-ssi."
Madeleines. A lawyer coming down to deliver madeleines at nine-thirty on a rainy night. The situation is both natural and unnatural. There are faint dark circles under Chaewon's eyes.
"Come on in."
Chaewon hesitates for a moment. A beat late, as if it's her first time being invited inside. As if she's checking to see if the invitation is genuine.
"...Am I not intruding?"
"I was just taking a break from work. I was actually thinking of having a cup of tea."
It's a lie. But I know that if she goes back, she'll just head up to room 301 and spend another night staring blankly at the ceiling. Knowing that, I can't send her away.
Chaewon steps inside cautiously. She neatly slips off her slippers. This is her first time in my apartment. Her gaze briefly sweeps across the living room—the dining table, the sofa, the TV, and the hallway leading to the studio. It must be a familiar layout. The exact same floor plan in the same villa. The only difference is who lives here.
"...It's the same layout."
"Yes. It's probably identical."
"Have you had dinner?"
"Egg fried rice. Just something simple."
"...Alone?"
"Since no one came over today."
At my words, the corners of Chaewon's lips twitch upward ever so slightly. It's too faint to be called a smile.
I put the kettle on to boil. I pull out two chamomile tea bags. Caffeine is poison for insomnia.
"I'll make some tea. Is chamomile alright?"
"...Yes. Thank you."
While the water boils, Chaewon stands in the middle of the living room, looking a bit awkward. A living room with the exact same layout as her own, yet with everything in a different place. She has the expression of someone standing in a mirror image of her own home.
"Please, have a seat on the sofa."
Chaewon nods and walks over to the living room sofa. A two-seater fabric couch. She sits on one end, knees neatly pressed together, her back perfectly straight. Her posture is as upright as if she were sitting in a courtroom.
I brew two cups of tea and bring them over, placing one in front of her.
"Thank you, Siu-ssi."
"It's nothing."
I sit on the opposite end of the sofa. There's about a cushion's width of space between us. On the TV, the variety show from earlier ends, and a movie begins. It's an old French film. Subtitles appear. Chaewon stares at the screen.
"This movie... I've seen it before."
"Do you like it?"
"Just... I used to put it on a lot when I couldn't sleep in the early hours of the morning."
Chaewon cups the chamomile tea with both hands. Her fingers are long and slender. There is no nail polish on her nails; they are simply neatly trimmed. The hands of a lawyer.
"...What do you usually do at night, Siu-ssi?"
"I draw."
"Even at this hour?"
"When a deadline is close. But today, I can't focus because of the rain."
"Do you dislike the rain?"
"No. The problem is that I love it too much."
Chaewon looks at me. Her expression suggests she found my answer unexpected. Her cold impression softens for a brief moment.
"Me too."
"...Pardon?"
"I find it even harder to sleep when it rains. It's a beautiful sound, but listening to it... makes the fact that I'm alone feel so much more vivid."
Her words send a sharp pang through my chest. I know that feeling too. The sound of rain softens a person, but at the same time, it makes them lonely. The sound of rain heard alone is not a lullaby; it's a monologue.
I don't say anything. Instead, I use the remote to lower the volume slightly. The movie dialogue and the sound of the rain blend in equal parts. That is the perfect volume for this space right now.
Chaewon takes a sip of her tea. A faint mist of steam briefly fogs her lips. As the front of her light purple silk pajamas parts slightly, a shadow is cast below her collarbone. It isn't intentional. Chaewon is simply indifferent to how she looks to others. That makes it even more dangerous.
I turn my gaze back to the TV. The movie flows on. A French man is saying something to a French woman. Subtitles appear.
It's a cliché line.
"May I try a madeleine?"
"That's why I brought them."
I open the paper bag and take out a madeleine. I take a bite. The buttery aroma is rich. It's delicious—crispy on the outside, moist on the inside.
"These are really good."
"I'm glad."
Chaewon chuckles softly. A genuine laugh. Her eyes narrow slightly, and her usual expressionless mask cracks. The moment doesn't last long. She quickly returns to her usual face. But I saw it.
The movie continues. Having finished her tea, Chaewon rests the empty cup on her lap and watches the screen. I watch too. Honestly, I have no idea what the movie is about. Between the French dialogue and the subtitles, the sound of the rain gradually grows heavier.
"...It's coming down harder."
"Yes."
Chaewon looks toward the window. Rainwater is streaming down the glass. The light from the streetlamp distorts along the water droplets. Her profile is half-bathed in that light—her sharp jawline, high nose bridge, and long eyelashes.
"Siu-ssi."
"Yes?"
"...May I stay a little longer?"
"Of course."
I answer as if it's the most natural thing in the world, but my heart takes a heavy leap. Normally, people drink their tea, say their goodbyes, and leave. They don't linger.
"Just until the movie ends."
"Sure."
Chaewon looks back at the screen. And time passes. Ten o'clock. Ten-thirty. The man and woman in the movie walk along a beach. The sound of the waves overlaps with the sound of the rain. Chaewon's head begins to tilt very slowly. At first, I didn't realize it. I thought she was just shifting her posture. But the tilt grows deeper and deeper.
"...Chaewon-ssi?"
There is no answer. I turn my head to look. Chaewon has her eyes closed. Her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted. Her breathing is steady. She has fallen asleep. A chronic insomniac. Without sleeping pills. On my sofa.
I mustn't move. That is my very first thought. I know how incredibly difficult it is for this person to fall asleep. Chaewon's head tilts further. Then, it rests against my shoulder. A faint scent wafts from her hair. A clean, non-stimulating fragrance. Like soap, or perhaps fabric softener—the scent of a person's home. I hold my breath. Not metaphorically, but literally.
As Chaewon's body leans further, her left shoulder brushes against my arm. The silk pajamas are thin. Her body heat transfers through them. It's warm. It feels strange because it contrasts so sharply with her usual cold impression. Leaning against my shoulder, her body slides and slumps toward me. Her cardigan slips down, exposing her bare shoulder. A single thin strap of her silk pajamas runs across her shoulder, and below it, her pale skin glows softly in the dim light filtering in from the window. My eyes are drawn to it. Of course they are. I'm a man, after all. The soft curve starting from her collarbone and continuing downward. The lines created by the silk clinging to her body are fully visible. Chaewon is on the slender side, but she is still a woman. The gentle, rounded curves of her breasts show through the silk, their contours rising and falling minutely with her deep, sleeping breaths.
Fuck. Look away.
I turn my head. I look at the TV. I can't focus. My entire arm feels like it's burning from her body heat.
Chaewon stirs in her sleep. Leaning in even deeper, she wraps her arms around mine as if hugging it. Her soft fingers touch my forearm. And then, her breast presses against my arm. It's soft. The sensation travels straight up my arm and directly to my brain. What is transmitted through that single layer of silk is not something firm. It is soft. That warm, soft weight presses against my arm, shifting minutely every time she breathes.
I mustn't move. I can't wake her up.
I lean my head back against the sofa cushions and stare at the ceiling. The rain beats heavily against the glass. My heart is racing. Chaewon's presence is vividly clear against my left arm. Her warmth, her scent, her breathing, the soft pressure. All of it.
"...Mmh."
Chaewon lets out a soft murmur in her sleep. Her lips part, and her exhaled breath brushes against my shoulder. A warm breeze. It tickles. It's driving me crazy. Her face is buried in my shoulder. Looking down from this angle, I can see her long eyelashes, her sharp nose, and her slightly parted lips. A face stripped of its usual perfect mask. Completely defenseless.
My posture is uncomfortable, but there's nothing I can do. Time passes. The movie ends, and another one begins. The remote is on the right armrest, but my left arm is trapped by Chaewon, so I can't turn my body. Eleven o'clock. Eleven-thirty. The sound of the rain subsides slightly. Chaewon's breathing has grown even steadier and deeper. She has fallen into a deep sleep. I know how precious it is for her to sleep this deeply without any medication.
I reach for the blanket resting on the sofa's armrest. It's a spring night. When it rains, the temperature drops. Her silk pajamas are thin. Using only one hand, I unfold the blanket and drape it over Chaewon's shoulders. Trying to do it with one hand makes it slip repeatedly. In the end, I manage to cover her roughly, at least shielding her shoulders. I pull the blanket up a bit more to cover her up to her neck.
"...Mmh."
Chaewon makes another sound in her sleep. Then, beneath the blanket, she hugs my arm even tighter. She rubs her face against my shoulder as if searching for a warmer spot. I freeze. Her hair brushes against my chin. Every time I breathe, her hair tickles me. Her steady breathing flows regularly into my ears, blending with the sound of the rain. The rain and her breathing. These two sounds fill the night.
...To be honest, I'm sleepy too. I did a lot of work today, I've had dinner, and I like this warmth. Another person's body heat. I had forgotten what it felt like for a long time. Ever since I broke up with my ex-girlfriend three years ago, I haven't sat this close to anyone. There was that incident with Seojin-ssi, but that was... a different kind of closeness. This is just pure proximity. No words, no intentions, just being next to each other.
My eyes begin to close. I shouldn't. The sound of the rain feels like a lullaby. Chaewon's breathing keeps the tempo. A warm sensation envelops my entire left arm. Drowsiness washes over me like a tidal wave. In the last moment of clear consciousness, I rest my head gently against her hair. It's an unconscious action. I fall asleep.
"...Siu-ssi."
A voice calls out. Soft, cautious, and close.
I open my eyes. My neck is stiff. I fell asleep on the sofa. I check the clock. 2:00 AM. Chaewon is sitting in front of me. She is folding the blanket and placing it on her lap. Her hair is flattened on one side.
"...I'm sorry for waking you."
"No, it's fine."
"I should head back up."
Chaewon stands up. She neatly places the folded blanket on the sofa.
"Has the rain stopped?"
"...I think it's still drizzling a bit, but it's fine. We're in the same building."
I stand up as well. My neck really hurts. Chaewon slips into her slippers. Outside the front door is the hallway, the stairs at the end, and room 301 right above. A path where she won't get hit by a single drop of rain. Still, after a brief hesitation, I add, "...It's only one floor, but walk up slowly."
"I will."
In the dark living room, only the faint light from the TV illuminates the space between us.
"Thank you."
"Did you sleep well?"
At my question, Chaewon pauses. Then, she nods very slightly.
Her answer carries a heavy weight.
"Then that's all that matters."
Chaewon stands before the front door. She looks back.
"Siu-ssi."
"Yes?"
"...Is your shoulder alright? Since I leaned on it."
"It's fine. You weren't heavy at all."
It's the truth. She is incredibly light.
"Good night."
"Good night, Chaewon-ssi."
The door closes. Her footsteps head up the stairs, growing fainter until they disappear.
I stand leaning against the front door. Chaewon's warmth still lingers on my left arm. The texture of the silk remains. Her scent lingers past the sound of the rain. I return to the sofa. A bit of her warmth still remains where she sat. The blanket smells of her. I pick up the blanket, and instead of folding it, I simply hold it close.
"...Am I losing my mind?"
The words slip out. I toss the blanket onto the sofa and head to my studio. I sit in front of my tablet and pick up the pen. What I draw is not the cover illustration. It is the profile of a sleeping woman in light purple silk pajamas. Her long eyelashes. Her slightly parted lips. The strap that slipped down her shoulder.
...I'll worry about the deadline tomorrow.
The pen moves across the tablet. Outside, the rain continues to fall. 2:30 AM. Han Siu cannot sleep. Ironically, tonight, I am the one with insomnia. The cool touch of Chaewon's shoulder still lingers on my fingertips. This rain-soaked spring night shows no sign of ending.