Chapter Text
I.
The sunlight streaming in through the high windows in the studio is almost unbearably hot on the back of Sooyoung’s neck. Still, she doesn’t move, her hands languidly folded in her lap, her chin turned up and to the side to expose her throat. Sooyoung makes a conscious effort not to move her head, knowing that her students, sitting in a neat row in front of her scratching away at their sketchpads, will almost certainly struggle with the difficult lighting. Not from a lack of skill – Sooyoung’s current headcount of eight students are all in their mid-teens and she’s been teaching them for several months, but they know as well as she does how important it is to grade the balance between light and dark, the detail involved in the play of shadows and highlights, the texture of how light reflects off of different surfaces –
A sound suspiciously similar to the studio’s front door being kicked derails Sooyoung’s train of thought and makes all of her students’ heads turn. Sighing, Sooyoung gets up and squints at the window in the door; she can just make out two warped shadows standing just outside. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Sooyoung hops down from her seat and glances at the clock on the wall, making her students’ heads swivel back toward her.
“Class is over, put your sketches on the table by the door,” Sooyoung says as her students start to get up. “Don’t worry if you didn’t finish, we’ll pick up next time.”
“Who’s outside?” one of the kids asks. Sooyoung squints at him. He must be new.
“Oh, a couple members of the local organized crime syndicate. They’ve been on my ass ever since I refused to paint a nude of the big boss. Just because you’re holding grapes doesn’t make it tasteful. See you next week!” Normally Sooyoung would give herself a cramp from laughing at their dumbfounded faces, but she merely herds her students out of the back door, then slumps against it. God give her strength.
The front door busts open unceremoniously and Sooyoung scrambles into a more dignified position just in time to see two women dressed in perfectly tailored black suits enter the premises. Is one of them wearing little black glasses like The Matrix? Jesus, she can feel a migraine coming on.
“I’d ask what you’re doing in my studio but I feel like I already know the answer, so why the hell are you idiots dressed like you’re going to go fight Hugo Weaving?” Sooyoung says, picking up two of the stools scattered around the room from the earlier session and pushing them against the wall. “Back when we still had turf wars you would wear a flak jacket and sweatpants to a fucking shootout, Kim Lip.”
Kim Lip has the nerve to look offended. “You know as well as I do that sweatpants have huge pockets, Yves. It’s about maximizing ammo carrying capacity and having extra room for grenades –”
“It’s Sooyoung , I’m no longer in the fucking mob,” Sooyoung snaps at her. She turns to the other woman, who looks like she’s gauging the speed it would take for her to break the studio windows with her forehead for a quick escape. “Actually, Hyeju, I have no idea what you two are doing in my house. I thought maybe you failed another hit and were gonna ask me for my expertise, and I’d have to give my spiel about how I’ve put that life behind me and moved on to better things, but since you goofy bitches have suits on I think you’re here to fuck with me.”
“It’s Olivia Hye,” the taller black-haired woman says after a pause, finally looking away from Sooyoung’s windows. “I’m on the job, so Hyeju doesn’t exist. And technically, yes, we’re here to fuck with you but, like, as a last resort kind of thing.”
That migraine is definitely here. Sooyoung lifts one of the stools and says, “Explain to me why I shouldn’t fling this at you.”
“We had a call come in commissioning a painted portrait,” Kim Lip says. Sooyoung blinks, opening her mouth to call bullshit, but Lip plows on. “I know, I thought they had the wrong number too. Who the fuck calls the mob for that shit? But the situation’s a crazy one. The call came from outside the city, in the backwoods.”
Kim Lip enunciates the word backwoods the way one would say the Bermuda Triangle or Death Valley, which Sooyoung thinks is a little dramatic, but not entirely unwarranted. She’s only been outside of the city a few times and knows very little about the community that dwells along the coastline at the edge of the country. They were decades behind in terms of technology and lifestyle in general, still clinging to ancient customs that the city had disposed of decades ago. Suddenly the call doesn’t seem so strange.
“You know they got weird marriage customs out in those parts, and the call’s about one of them,” Kim Lip continues. “Apparently, this couple have this arranged marriage thing going on with their daughter and some rich city bastard, but the two have never met and the convention is, the man has to receive a hand-painted portrait of her or the marriage can’t happen.”
“Anyone can paint a portrait,” Sooyoung says, going over to the sink to start scrubbing her used brushes. “I’m a busy woman.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Kim Lip counters. “There’s a catch. The girl refuses to sit for her portrait. They’ve had several painters come in and she’s gone through all of them like paper. None of them could finish her portrait.”
“Bitch, me too, the fuck?” Sooyoung laughs, dropping the clean brushes into a jar one by one. “I’d give them hell too if I was in an arranged marriage.”
Lip goes over to stand in front of Sooyoung, Hyeju trailing behind. “Look, Yves. I don’t know all of the details, but this marriage is the family’s last resort at a better life. They’re trying to get her out of the hinterlands because that place is a fucking dead end. You’re the best painter in the city, and –”
“Doesn’t matter if she won’t let me paint her,” Sooyoung deadpans.
“She won’t know,” Lip says. Sooyoung raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be posing as her bodyguard. From what I know she’s not allowed outside, but now you’ll accompany her everywhere and observe her. You’ll paint her portrait in secret.”
Sooyoung wipes her hands on her towel. She’s done the bodyguarding gig before back when she was in the mob, but only as a front for a hit. “I have to stare at her all day and then paint her from memory whenever I have a chance?” Lip nods and Sooyoung snorts. “Sounds batshit crazy. I’ve never painted anything that way before.”
“I know you’re fishing for compliments, but if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Lip says. “Besides, when did you have a problem with staring at girls?” Sooyoung glares at her and Lip grins. “Oh good, you’re already practicing. Plus, this isn’t strictly mob business. You’re still not affiliated with us, if you’re worried about that.”
“I’m not worried. I left a long time ago.” Sooyoung starts to draw the blinds on the windows closed. Hyeju looks distraught.
“And it’ll stay that way,” Lip promises. “Not anyone can just get up and leave the goddamn rackets, Yves. We’ve left you alone since then.” Sooyoung snorts at that and Lip holds up her hands. “Okay, sometimes Hyeju and I get bored. But you know what it’s like. You won’t have to do anything violent, unless, of course, there’s some actual bodyguarding involved, which I doubt.”
Sooyoung takes out her keys. “I’m going to lock up now. Send me more information later and I’ll think about it.”
Lip and Hyeju are already heading out of the door, but Lip sticks her head back in. “Can do, but if you’re gonna take this job you’ll have to leave tonight at the latest. I don’t make the rules. Later!”
Lip flashes her signature infuriating closed-mouth smile, and the two are gone by the time Sooyoung can ramp up the energy to strangle both of them. God dammit. By the time Sooyoung receives a text from an anonymous number that afternoon, she’s already made up her mind.
-
“How’s this for a fucking road trip,” Sooyoung grumbles to herself as she walks along the stretch of gravel they call a road. Hyeju had driven her most of the way, but had kicked her out at the edge of the country after wishing her luck and saying she didn’t want to fuck up her new tires. Asshole.
Sooyoung’s luggage bumps against her back as she walks. She’s had to pack two bags; one holds her painting equipment, and the other is filled with an assortment of bodyguarding implements – essentially, knives and handguns – underneath a layer of clothes. They’re decently heavy and Sooyoung is grateful for the combined effect of the cooler autumn weather and the breeze coming from the nearby sea. She’s passed a few houses already, all spaced quite a distance apart, and has yet to see a single person. Not that it matters. Lip had given her enough information to find the right property, although Sooyoung had to dig through a barrage of YouTube links to some subpar slime videos to make sense of it. The house would be sitting by itself on a small hilly outcropping surrounded by the ocean, and with luck she would arrive at the ferry before dark.
Truthfully, Sooyoung doesn’t know why she agreed to do the job. Sure, she owed Kim Lip and Hyeju – Olivia Hye – a few favors since they helped smooth things over with the mob after Sooyoung left, and the three of them had a colorful history together running scams and planning ops for years, but she had never enjoyed the mob lifestyle. She may have been their best hitman and negotiator, but one arrest and a long period of time in the cooler had been enough. Sooyoung never fails more than once. She had cleared her name as soon as she could and was living a clean life teaching art to rich city kids for almost a year now. The duo’s visits – erratic and endlessly annoying, as they sometimes brought along an almost certainly clinically insane new recruit named Yeojin – were not always unwelcome, but otherwise Sooyoung had distanced herself from anything having to do with the mob.
But this has nothing to do with the mob, Sooyoung reassures herself. She’s just a painter doing a commissioned piece. In secret. Posing as a bodyguard. The muzzle of one of her handguns pokes her in the back as she keeps walking and Sooyoung sighs. Curse her unrelenting thirst for a challenge. She hopes to God that this girl is ugly so she can half-ass the portrait and get back to the city.
The ferry ride is short and calm, and Sooyoung can hear the ocean crashing against the cliffs of the island when she steps off the boat onto the dock. The sun is rapidly sinking and in the dusky darkness she can see the winding rocky path leading up to the house in the distance, surrounded by a surprising amount of trees and greenery. As she starts up the path, she notes her surroundings - the yard looks overgrown at first glance, but every tree and plant seems to be carefully tended to. The house itself is a decent size and, while it looks old, in perfect condition; Sooyoung has seen bigger ones in the city, but this one is an estate compared to the other properties Sooyoung has passed on her way here. They probably have hired help of some kind, maybe a gardener. Sooyoung walks up the steps to the front door and knocks.
The door opens and a dark-haired woman sticks out her head, looking Sooyoung up and down. “What’s the password?”
“Uh,” Sooyoung says intelligently. Lip hadn’t mentioned anything about a password. Maybe it was hidden in one of her slime videos? God fucking dammit. “I’m Ha Sooyoung, I’m here as the bodyguard for, um,” she looks down at the smudged writing on her hand, “Miss Jeong Jinsol? I wasn’t given any password.”
The woman looks her up and down again, her gaze catching on the bags on Sooyoung’s back. She stands back and holds the door open. “Come in, I’m just messing with you. We were told you would be here tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Sooyoung is going to deck Kim Lip the next time she sees her. “I’m sorry, I hope it’s not an inconvenience. I was told –”
“Don’t worry about it,” the woman says with a quick smile, pulling Sooyoung in and shutting the door after her. “We have a lot to talk about. Oh, by the way, I’m Hyunjin, the groundskeeper and Miss Jeong’s guardian.”
Sooyoung follows Hyunjin through the house. She has yet to see an electrical appliance in this place. “Guardian? I thought I would be meeting Mr. and Mrs. Jeong.”
“Again, we have a lot to talk about,” Hyunjin says, leading Sooyoung into the kitchen and setting two places. “I’ll give you a tour tomorrow in the morning, but it’s late and I’m starving. We can talk over dinner.”
The food is simple but good. So far, only the stove seems to run on electricity; Sooyoung notes the lack of a microwave with a twinge of grief. Hyunjin eats without speaking or possibly breathing for a solid ten minutes, and Sooyoung, despite brimming with questions, decides not to intervene until she’s done. Hyunjin downs a glass of water and finally looks up.
“So,” she starts. “I’ve been working for the Jeongs for years. They had two daughters, one of whom was arranged to be married to a rich bachelor from the city.” Hyunjin pronounces city like the word leaves a bad aftertaste, and Sooyoung doesn’t bother taking offense. “They were set to be married just about a month ago, but she died.”
Hyunjin pauses dramatically, and when the silence extends for a little too long Sooyoung ventures, “How?”
“We assume it was an accident,” Hyunjin says. “Both of the Jeong girls are very fond of sailing and would take their skiffs out for joyrides pretty regularly. That day, she went out on her own and later was found floating in the ocean face down, with her boat dashed to pieces on a neighboring island.”
“Jesus,” Sooyoung says quietly.
“That’s why Jinsol is not allowed outside on her own, to prevent another accident. Her parents didn’t want to put a perfectly good marriage to waste, because from what I’ve heard the bachelor is loaded, so they offered Jinsol in her stead.” Hyunjin’s voice drops, and the set of her jaw is hard.
That sounds fucked, but Sooyoung refrains from saying so. Maybe it’s the custom in these parts. “I understand it’s customary for the groom-to-be to receive a portrait of the bride before the marriage, especially when they haven’t met,” Sooyoung remarks, to which Hyunjin nods. “So, I’ll accompany her at all times and paint when I have a chance?”
“That’s correct.” Hyunjin starts to clear the table. “This is a unique situation and finding someone with such a specific skillset was not easy, as far as I know. As a bodyguard, you’ll be expected to keep such accidents from happening to Jinsol. She hasn’t been allowed out of the house since her sister died, but now with you around she’ll be given free reign as before. It’s your job to keep her safe.”
“Covered,” Sooyoung says.
Hyunjin finishes clearing the table and motions Sooyoung to follow her once more. “I’ll show you your room and we’ll continue in the morning. A portion of your room has been sectioned off for your painting equipment. If everything goes to plan, you’ll meet Jinsol tomorrow.”
“What’s she like?” Sooyoung asks as she follows Hyunjin up the stairs to her room. It’s dark as shit, and Hyunjin pulls a box of matches from her pocket and lights an honest-to-God candle. Sooyoung feels the weight of her smartphone in her pocket and grimaces inwardly at the disparity.
“She’s…” Hyunjin trails off as she continues down the second story hallway, passing various closed doors. “She’s adamant about not wanting the marriage, which is understandable, but she needs to recognize that certain promises have been made. None of us ever thought she’d be put into this position, but she’s handling it,” Hyunjin tilts her head, “remarkably well? Despite not being allowed outside for the past several weeks and giving the last painter blunt head trauma, of course.”
Sooyoung isn’t sure she heard that right. “She did what?” Hyunjin unceremoniously ushers her into her room and shuts the door behind her. Sooyoung hears her yell a muffled “See you in the morning!” from the hallway and sighs, dropping her bags on the floor.
-
Sooyoung can’t sleep. The distant sound of the ocean is a constant rush in her ears, and something about the air pressure in the room makes her limbs feel oddly detached. She flails for a few more minutes then gets up and walks to her door, peeking her head out into the hallway. The entire house is perfectly dark and silent; Sooyoung fumbles for her phone; of course, the little piece of shit is dead. She cedes defeat and goes to the nightstand and lights a candle. Great, all she needs now is a long shapeless white nightdress that goes down to her ankles and a blue-and-white striped cap with a tassel at the end.
Most of the rooms lining the hall seem to be empty guest rooms or recreational spaces; Sooyoung is about to head into one when she hears soft snoring and the sound of someone rolling over in bed coming from inside and quickly backtracks. Okay, so maybe not all of the rooms are empty. Soon, she finds one that is; it’s full of furniture and other lumpy objects. Sooyoung stubs her toe against something and has to bite back a spiel of curses, but they die in her mouth when her light lands on something that looks like… a canvas?
Sooyoung makes her way over to the canvas and picks it up from where it was lying face down on the floor. It’s a decent size, and good quality. She turns it over, expecting it to be blank, and her heart spasms in her chest. It’s not blank – there’s a beautiful painted depiction of what must be a woman from the waist up, the details on her dress and hands immaculate. Sooyoung brings her light closer to the canvas to assess the technique; the brushstrokes and application of color are those of a master. Sooyoung works her way up from the slim wrists and long fingers, up the breast and shoulders covered by some blue material – satin? – and up the slender, almost translucent neck, and up – wait. Where an impeccably rendered head should be, only the blank beige of the canvas shows through; the painting is severed from completion at the top of the neck. An eerie prickle walks down Sooyoung’s spine; she looks at the canvas as her candle burns down, then leaves it face down on the floor where she found it.
The next morning, Hyunjin gives Sooyoung her tour of the property. The area around the house is populated with various flowering plants and large trees, but the land outside gives way to coarse native grass that stretches all the way to the rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean. The salty smell is unmistakable and Sooyoung marvels at how so much plant life can grow in such sandy soil. A small but incredibly strong woman Hyunjin introduces as Vivi is trimming the trees with a huge pair of shears; Sooyoung sees that she’s the gardener.
“So the Jeongs are well off enough to have hired help?” Sooyoung asks as Hyunjin leads her back into the house.
Hyunjin frowns. “None of us are hired, as you put it. We take care of the property and in return we own part of it for our own purposes. Some of us, like Vivi, live here while others, like myself, live away from the property but come and tend it during the day. Also, you should probably avoid calling any of their help ‘hired’ because they’d be obligated by ritual law to challenge you to a duel to the death.”
Sooyoung nods wearily. She’s given up trying to figure out if Hyunjin is messing with her. The woman has a poker face like steel shutters. They head to the kitchen, meeting some more inhabitants – a tiny brunette who has her entire upper body inside the oven, and another slightly taller copper-haired woman who drops the bundle of rags she was using to scrub the windows and bounds over to Sooyoung.
“Hi! You must be the new p- I mean bodyguard? Nice to meet you! I’m Yerim!” Yerim holds out her hand, and Sooyoung shakes it, a little at a loss for words. The brunette in the oven slowly backs out, her hair a little dulled by the soot. “I take care of things inside the house, the way Hyunjin takes care of the outside. That’s Chaewon, she’s the cook. Well, officially, anyway. We all cook. You can too, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Sooyoung says. “If you’d like me to help –”
Chaewon shakes the soot off her hair and shuts the oven door. “Oh, Yerim’s just trying to act like she’s from the city. Don’t worry about the things that go on in the kitchen, Sooyoung, just do your bodyguarding and compliment my cooking and we’ll be fast friends.”
“She’s the best cook in these parts,” Hyunjin says reverently.
Sooyoung hasn’t even met Jinsol yet and she feels like she needs to go lie down. “Sure thing, Chaewon. I don’t doubt it. Anyone who can fit in the oven is definitely a master chef in my book.”
Chaewon and Yerim look at each other and the latter bursts into screams of laughter. Chaewon whacks Sooyoung in the shoulder, making her double over and bringing them effectively to the same height. “Well said, bodyguarder! I’ll quote you in my autobiography!”
Hyunjin pulls Sooyoung out of the kitchen while Yerim continues to scream-laugh. “That went better than I thought. Have you prepared your painting equipment?”
Sooyoung nods. “It’s all set up behind the screen in my room.”
“Great,” Hyunjin says. She checks the time. “How good are your sea-legs?”
“My whats?” Sooyoung says.
“Jinsol will probably be on her way out for her daily sailing excursion, might want to go catch her before she beaches your ass,” Hyunjin says rapidly as she retreats down the hall. She turns around at the end and yells, “There’s a path to the pier at the back of the house, and Jinsol doesn’t like waiting!”
In her room, Sooyoung gets dressed - she’s never gone sailing recreationally or otherwise, and isn’t sure what the activity entails, so she dresses light. She’s tucking a knife into her sleeve when Yerim knocks on her door and says, “Jinsol’s waiting for you by the door.”
Sooyoung lunges for the door and slams it shut before Yerim can leave. Realizing how violent that looks, she backs away apologetically. “Hold on, Yerim. I just have a few questions.”
Yerim eyes the collection of knives in Sooyoung’s half-open bag, her smile never faltering. “Sure.”
“Jinsol’s sister,” Sooyoung says. Yerim’s eyes slide from the knives to Sooyoung’s face. “How did she die, exactly? Hyunjin makes it sound like no one knows.”
“We all know,” Yerim says softly. Her smile is gone. “I was the one who found her. Did Hyunjin tell you how the Jeong sisters were born on the beach and could swim before they learned how to walk?”
Sooyoung frowns. “She said the consensus was that she drowned.”
“Yes,” Yerim says. She does not elaborate.
Sooyoung nods thoughtfully, an unpleasant feeling of unease coagulating in her veins. Yerim takes a step backward out of the room and says softly, “Please keep Jinsol safe.”
Sooyoung pads down the stairs, her brain whirling. As she nears the foot, she can see someone with a hood over her head standing with her back to Sooyoung, facing the front door; when she hears Sooyoung coming, she opens the door and strides out into the yard without hesitation.
“Wait!” Sooyoung hops down the last few steps and runs through the doorway, yanking it shut behind her. The hooded figure breaks into a run just as Sooyoung vaults over the porch railing, headed straight for the cliffs that are dead ahead. Sooyoung sprints after her, dread clawing at her collar giving way to panic. If Jinsol flings herself into the ocean on Sooyoung’s first day as her bodyguard, Sooyoung will never hear the end of it. Why is this girl so fucking fast? The cliffs lurch closer and closer as both of them gain speed. The wind rips the hood away, exposing a head of blond hair that streams out behind her; Sooyoung fixes her eyes on it and realizes she’s gaining on her. Wait, that must be because she’s stopped running. Sooyoung puts on the brakes just in time to see Jinsol stop directly in front of where the cliff drops away, chest and shoulders heaving. Sooyoung focuses on catching her breath but stops when Jinsol turns around to face her.
“I’ve missed that,” Jinsol says.
Sooyoung decides that that adrenaline-fueled sprint is the only reason why she can’t fucking breathe. “Missed what? Dying?”
Jinsol turns back around. “Running.”
Sooyoung follows as Jinsol starts to pick her way down a gentler decline along the cliff, heading toward a small boathouse next to a pier on the beach. The wind pulls at her and she’s never felt more wrongfooted – well, except for maybe that one time where she had to use a sniper rifle at point blank range. They reach the foot of the cliffs, Sooyoung trailing behind Jinsol a few steps, and Jinsol yanks open the door of the boathouse and heads inside without looking to see if Sooyoung will follow. Sooyoung’s about to poke her head inside when Jinsol re-emerges, holding two life-jackets; she thrusts one into Sooyoung’s face.
Sooyoung hesitantly takes it. “What’s this for?”
Jinsol glances at her as she shrugs her own life-jacket on. “For sparing me the trouble of finding out if you can swim or not.”
Sooyoung follows suit and puts her arms through the holes despite the looming sense of dread. “You’re going to go sailing now? This wind is strong enough to uproot trees!”
“If you don’t want to come, you can stand on the dock and watch,” Jinsol says, and walks past her onto the pier.
Sooyoung huffs and shakes a few mental fists at an imaginary Kim Lip before following her out onto the weathered wooden pier. There’s a small, sleek boat tethered to the dock at the end, lean as a dart, with the words BLUE BETTA stenciled on the side. Jinsol hops in and starts undoing the rope without looking up.
This paycheck better have me set for life, Sooyoung thinks as the wind whips her hair in her face, then gets into the boat.
It rocks violently under her weight, and Sooyoung almost falls over the side before a firm hand closes around her upper arm and holds her upright. Jinsol maintains her grip for a moment longer as the boat gradually settles, looking adamantly at a point just past Sooyoung’s left ear; Sooyoung takes the chance to get a good look at her face.
She starts at the base of her throat, noting how the cut of her jaw yields to the curve of her chin, leading up to the swell of her lower lip. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are pink, probably from the wind, and her eyes are - oh fuck, Jinsol’s looking right back at her. Sooyoung snaps her gaze away so quickly her neck twinges in pain and focuses on the distant shoreline. She can still feel Jinsol’s eyes on her. Were they brown? Sooyoung hadn’t gotten that far yet. She flicks a glance back over to see Jinsol’s gaze had traveled from her face down to her open life-jacket.
“You should fasten that properly,” Jinsol says, and lets go of her.
Sooyoung exhales through her nose as soon as Jinsol turns away to start the outboard motor. The wind tears through the water and makes the skiff bob and lurch on its surface, and the constant roiling combined with Sooyoung’s unsteady hands means she’s still struggling with the life-jacket zipper by the time Jinsol’s tilted the motor into the water and has turned back around.
“I promise I know how a zipper works,” Sooyoung mutters through her teeth as she tugs on the zipper tab. Jinsol watches her for a beat longer before she steps over the pair of oars lying on the bottom of the boat and pulls Sooyoung closer by the strap on her life-jacket. Sooyoung almost loses her footing again but Jinsol merely zips up her life-jacket in one smooth motion and goes back to sit next to the tiller.
“You might want to be sitting down for this,” Jinsol says, and pulls the starter cord.
The motor bubbles to life, and Sooyoung quickly hunkers down in the prow as Jinsol shifts into forward gear and starts to move the skiff into the open ocean. The wind blows at their back and the small craft gains speed quickly, Jinsol steering with a hand on the tiller and her hair streaming out behind her wildly; Sooyoung finally finds a position that doesn’t involve a white-knuckled grip on the side of the boat and looks ahead to see the vast expanse of water ahead, rolling with choppy white waves. The boat steadily gains speed, the wind peeling past them with a deafening screech. Jinsol hits what must be the aquatic equivalent of a pothole - some kind of ill-formed wave - and the nose of the boat flies upward into the air; Sooyoung actually experiences a split second of zero gravity before the boat smacks back down into the water and continues at a blinding speed.
“You’re not gonna slow down?” Sooyoung yells over the wind. Water sprays over the sides of the boat and she can distinctly taste salt on her tongue.
“Give me one good reason to do that!” Jinsol yells back. She’s standing at the tiller now, surefooted and steady even as the boat bounces over the waves.
These are shit conditions for me to study your face for your portrait! Sooyoung thinks to herself, and briefly imagines actually saying that out loud and getting promptly booted off the side. Fuck, are there sharks? She hauls herself up into a more upright sitting position and says, “We’re going to get lost!”
Jinsol stares at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. Sooyoung is sure if her heart wasn’t already doing jumping jacks from adrenaline, it would be at the sound. Miraculously, the skiff starts reducing in speed until it’s no longer bounding over the surface of the water like a galloping horse; Jinsol sits back down next to the tiller and points back where they came from without looking. “Do you see anything?”
Sooyoung squints at where she’s pointing. Sure enough, in the distance, she can see the pier and the boathouse, with the cliffs in the back. A little further, the house sits serenely on top of the island, no more than two kilometers away.
Jinsol reaches into her shirt and pulls out a small round object on a chain around her neck; Sooyoung can see it’s a compass. “I would never get lost, bodyguard.”
Sooyoung prickles at the way Jinsol says it like an insult, but then Jinsol starts the boat up again and gets back underway. She’s still not sure where they’re going - maybe Jinsol likes going on joyrides the way rich people do in their cars in the city, just going around in circles with no destination, but she’s not complaining since they aren’t traveling as fast as they were before. Maybe Jinsol is taking pity on her. Sooyoung bristles at that, too, and sits up straighter.
Jinsol beats her to it. “You’re not from around here.”
“I’m from the city,” Sooyoung answers.
“I know, it was pretty obvious you’ve never been in a boat before,” Jinsol says. “You didn’t sign up for this when they told you to watch me, did you?”
Sooyoung feels a little stab of panic. She can’t know about Sooyoung’s portrait-related ulterior motives, can she? Wait, she probably meant the bodyguarding thing. “I’m supposed to keep you safe, from boats or otherwise. I never introduced myself properly, by the way. I’m Ha Sooyoung, professional bodyguard.”
“Did they tell you about my situation, Ha Sooyoung?” Jinsol asks, looking at her again. Her gaze is becoming unbearable.
“I know you’re going to be married,” Sooyoung says, deciding to be at least a little truthful. “In place of your sister, who… passed away. I’m sorry.”
Jinsol looks at her silently before moving the tiller, turning the boat around in a wide arc back towards the island. “Relax, Sooyoung. I’m not going to toss myself into the ocean the way my sister did. Your job, I think, will be boring.”