As I emerged from the suffocating darkness, my eyes fluttered open, revealing the stark chill of the pool deck beneath me. A shadow loomed overhead, and at first, I thought it was merely a trick of my dazed mind. But as the murky haze began to dissipate, I found myself entranced by the piercing gaze of the piano guy. His face was mere inches from mine, lips poised as if ready to breathe life back into me through mouth-to-mouth revival.
A startled scream escaped my lips, sending him jerking in surprise, his eyes widening with shock. Panic surged through me as I scrambled to sit up, my heart still racing from the paralyzing plunge into the water. The piano guy's rugged form stood out against the stark tiles; his drenched hair clung to his forehead, and his wet shorts and t shirt molded to his athletic frame, a testament to his swift jump into the depths for my rescue.
Our gazes locked, and an overwhelming swell of emotions washed over me—confusion, gratitude, and an underlying wariness that I couldn't shake. "Did you… save me?" I stammered, still grappling with the remnants of shock.
As the piano guy stood up, my gaze drifted to him once more, drawn to the bright pink hue of his lips. For a fleeting moment, I pondered the effortless charm that seemed to emanate from him, a quality that appeared to be inherent in many Korean men. However, my reverie was short-lived, as the memory of the ice cube incident came flooding back, and I swiftly pushed aside any notions of admiration. I wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily, not after what he had done.
He reached for a towel to dry his hair, his eyes meeting mine with a glint of amusement that seemed to dance in the depths of his gaze. "Not only are you short, you also can't swim," he said, his voice laced with a hint of serious teasing. As he ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture that seemed almost casual, and then licked his lips, a movement that I found oddly captivating, I felt myself staring, transfixed by the sight. I shook my head, wondering what was wrong with me, why I seemed to be so drawn to this infuriating man.
"You can leave now," he said, his tone dismissive, the words cutting through the air like a knife. I stood up, trying to compose myself, to gather the fragments of my dignity that seemed to have been scattered by the encounter. "Well, thank you," I said, the words feeling like a reluctant concession, before turning to leave.
But he called out to me, his voice stopping me in my tracks like a physical barrier. "Oh, great, don't think I saved you because I wanted to.. I was just trying to take a swim and you were just... existing in the water. I had to pull you out so I could enjoy my lap swim without any... distractions," he said with a smirk, his tone cold and teasing. "You're welcome, by the way. Don't mention it. I'm just glad I could save the water from... your presence." His words were laced with sarcasm, and his expression seemed to say, "You're lucky I'm even talking to you."
The words hung in the air, a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down, and I felt my eyes narrowing, my temper flaring like a spark.
"I never asked you to explain," I said, my voice firm, a statement of fact, a rebuke to his attempt to justify his actions. "Besides, I hope I don't owe you for that. Well, thank you, but I hope you won't attack me the same way you did the other time." The words tumbled out, a mixture of gratitude and wariness, as I turned to leave, my body still feeling strange from the ordeal.
I turned to look at him, my eyes meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. "Well, one thing I noticed is that most Koreans don't even understand a word of English, but you... you understand it so well," I said, my tone laced with sarcasm. "But I think you're misusing it" He ignored me, his expression unreadable, and I felt a pang of frustration. But then I noticed the way he looked at me,he was damn cute and my annoyance faltered for a moment. "Cute" was not the word I should be thinking about, not after what he had done. "Oh my God, Sarah, what is wrong with you?" I muttered to myself, shaking my head.
As I turned to leave again, the cool air hit me like a slap, and I shivered. "It's so chilly," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. But before I could take another step, I felt a towel being draped over my shoulders. I spun around, yanking the towel off immediately, throwing it to the ground. "Are you trying to do this to earn my forgiveness?" I demanded, my voice rising.
He looked at me, his expression unyielding. "Well, I'm not asking for any forgiveness," he said, his voice cold. "You deserve whatever I did you." I glared at him, my anger and frustration boiling over. Who did he think he was, anyway?
As I stood there, my eyes locked on his, I felt a strange sense of mesmerization wash over me. His good looks were undeniable, and for a moment, I found myself completely captivated. "Oh my God, does this guy even have a girlfriend?" I thought to myself, my mind wandering to the idea of who the lucky girl might be. "Who is going to be the lucky girl?" I couldn't help but wonder, my gaze lingering on him a moment too long.
But then, like a slap in the face, reality hit me. What was I thinking? This guy had just been incredibly rude and arrogant, and I was standing there, ogling him like some kind of lovesick fool. I slapped my head, a gesture of frustration and self-reproach. "Oh no, Sarah, not again," I muttered to myself, shaking my head in dismay. "Not again."