Chapter 14
Nice to meet you, I am Mr. Han and I will be your Korean tutor," he said with a warm smile, extending his hand for a handshake. I shook it, feeling a bit more at ease. He led me to a table, and I sat down across from him, trying to compose myself.
"Okay, so I've heard a lot about you," Mr. Han began, his eyes sparkling with interest. "I understand you're having some trouble understanding Korean?" he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging. I nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious about my lack of understanding. As I did, my heavy book slipped from my hands, landing on the table with a loud thud. "Oh, sorry about that," I muttered, feeling a bit flustered. Mr. Han chuckled and smiled, "No worries, let's get started," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I sat across from Mr Han, my Korean tutor, trying to focus on the lesson. He smiled warmly and began to explain, "First, let's start with the basics. Do you know anything about Hangul and the writing system?"
I hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain. "I've been hearing about it, but I don't really know how it works," I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Mr Han nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, it's easy to learn! Hangul is the alphabet used to write Korean. It's unique because it was created in the 15th century to help people communicate more effectively."
He pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write the Hangul characters, explaining the sounds and pronunciation. I watched intently, fascinated by the way the characters seemed to flow together. "You see, Hangul is made up of consonants and vowels," he explained, pointing to the different characters. "Let's start with the basic consonants. This one is 'giyeok' and it's pronounced like a soft 'g' sound."
I listened attentively, repeating the sounds and trying to mimic the characters. Mr Han patiently corrected me, offering words of encouragement. As the lesson progressed, I began to grasp the basics of Hangul, and my confidence grew. Maybe learning Korean wouldn't be so hard after all.
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As the hours flew by, the lesson finally came to an end. Mr Han began to pack his things, his movements efficient and organized. "So, Sarah, we'll meet here tomorrow after class, probably," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "If you want, we can use a classroom instead. Sometimes, the library can be a bit distracting with all the students around. I want to make sure you can focus and understand the material."
I considered his suggestion for a moment before shaking my head. "No, no, it's fine here," I said, smiling. "I think I'm okay with the environment."
Mr Han nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Alright, then. Tomorrow we'll meet again, and I'll see how you're doing with the assignment I gave you. Make sure to practice what we went over today, okay?"
With a final nod, he packed his last book into his bag and stood up. "See you tomorrow, Sarah," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I watched as he walked away, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I let out a soft sigh, feeling grateful for the lesson and looking forward to the next one.
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As I rose from my seat, I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the satisfying crackle of my joints. The tutoring session had been productive, and now I was eager to unwind with a good book. The library's shelves beckoned, promising a treasure trove of stories and knowledge. I wandered through the stacks, my fingers trailing over the spines of the books, inhaling the musty scent of aged paper.
Just as I began my search, a soft voice interrupted my reverie. "Excuse me, you'll need to see the librarian before you can borrow any books." I nodded, acknowledging the rule, and made my way to the librarian's desk. The formalities were brief,I submitted my details and soon I was back among the shelves, scanning the titles for the perfect read.
My eyes landed on a book that caught my attention, and I reached out to claim it. But in a flash, a hand appeared out of nowhere, and the book was snatched from the shelf. My fingers closed on air, and I felt a pang of disappointment. I followed the hand to its owner, my curiosity piqued. Who had beaten me to the book?
I spun around, my eyes scanning the space to identify the person who had swooped in and claimed the book I had been reaching for. My jaw dropped in surprise as I took in the familiar features of the piano player from earlier. Up close, he was even more captivating, his pink lips inviting. His hair was a rich, dark brown, and it looked so soft and inviting that I felt an inexplicable urge to touch it, to run my fingers through the strands and feel the texture.
My mind went blank as I stared at him, my thoughts reduced to a single, awestruck word: "wow." He held the book securely in his hand, and as he turned to walk away, I found my voice, blurting out a protest. "Hey, I wanted to take that one first!" My words halted him, and he turned to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.
"The book is rightfully in my hand," he said, his English soft and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I met his gaze, refusing to back down. "The book is in your hand because you came out of nowhere and you knew I was trying to take it," I said, trying to sound confident and assertive.
He gave a slight smile, his lips curling upward in a subtle, almost cold curve. "I got this book first," he said, his voice calm and unruffled. I raised an eyebrow, my mind racing with a retort. "You got it first, but I was trying to get it first. It's first come, first served, right?" I said, my voice firm and determined.
Before I could react, he took a step closer to me, his movements fluid and deliberate. I found myself moving back, my heart racing with anticipation, my mind whirling with questions. What was he planning to do? Was he going to try to intimidate me, or was he going to...?