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Warning: Alternative Universe

Summary: Convinced that Yi Jeong merely sees her as a substitute, Ga Eul vows to give up on him. However, Yi Jeong is not about to let her go without a fight. During a game of Truth or Dare, Ga Eul chooses an alternative option: a promise. To her dismay, she has to agree to fulfil five of Yi Jeong's fantasies.

Fleur de Fantaisie

VII.

Ga Eul bit her lips nervously as she watched Yi Jeong. He was the expert but she couldn't help it, she had a lot invested in this as well. "Be careful, sunbae," she murmured and then blushed as his knowing eyes met hers. His breath was warm on her neck and she wondered how she had allowed him to get this close.

"I know what I'm doing Ga Eul yang. I've done it hundreds of times before."

"I thought it would have been thousands."

Yi Jeong chuckled and shifted his grip over her delicate hand. "Are you implying that I'm not as good as my reputation makes me out to be?"

"You know what they say about talk…"

"Ga Eul yang, when I'm done, you're going to be singing my praises."

"Wait, you're not holding it properly…"

"It's perfectly straight and it will go in without a problem."

"Sunbae, not so fast! You can't just shove it in—"

"You have to relax or you'll make it harder. Stop moving around!"

Exasperated, Yi Jeong slid his arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. He could feel every slender curve and resisted burying his nose in her hair so that he could inhale that sweet jasmine fragrance. As expected, she completely froze. While her brain went into overdrive, he seized the moment, and with his fingers firmly over hers, dipped the tea cup into the large container full of glaze. "Now count to three…"

"What?"

He laughed softly as he shifted away ever so slightly. Ga Eul sounded breathless enough. She might faint if she realised what exactly had been pressed against her moments ago; he'd gotten a bit more than he bargained for by holding her that close. Or she would grab one of his ceramics and whack him over the head with it. It could go either way with her. "And now we can take it out. What do we do after this?"

"We…err…flick it." Ga Eul swallowed as Yi Jeong nodded approvingly and raised an eyebrow at her. Twisting her wrist swiftly back and forth, they watched as the excess glaze dripped away and fell back into the container. "And we can put it down now." She felt a stab of disappointment and cursed her treacherous heart for minding as he released her hand and moved away.

"See, dipping really is quite easy. You can do the rest of the set yourself, if you want to."

Yi Jeong stifled a sigh of disappointment as Ga Eul nodded fervently and proceeded to dip the other cup and the pot by herself. He should have shut his big mouth and just guided her through the rest of the set. He watched her for a few seconds before deciding she would be fine by herself. In any case, if the teapot and cup were ruined, he would have another excuse to have her over for another week. Five more days of solitary confinement with Ga Eul next to him, working in absolute peace and quiet. It sounded wonderful.

"Stop staring at me. I won't make mistakes. At least I'll try not to."

"I'm not staring because I think something will go wrong Ga Eul yang." She looked up, startled and when he winked at her, ducked her head down again, her face an adorable shade of pink. Deciding to spare her further discomfort, Yi Jeong settled himself on the work bench. Wetting the previously flattened clay, he started pushing in and down to form the centre of the clay, the wheel humming as it spun away. Throwing clay, moulding it always helped calm him down, helped centre his thoughts. Thinking became an unconscious act, part of the process as he flowed with his hands, with imagination.

Yi Jeong was right; it was possible to fall in love with him while she watched him working. 'Who am I kidding,' Ga Eul thought ruefully as she leaned against the table, careful to keep a good distance away from the teapot set. 'I am already in love with him.' There was still that palpable tug in her chest each time she confessed it but she had gotten used to it already. She had long ago given up fighting it. Would there ever be a day when the thought of him, the sight of him would not move her?

"It's not as easy as before."

His words broke the magic he had been weaving. What does one say to such candour? For a man of such immense talent, who had enjoyed nothing short of superstardom when it came to his art, it must have taken a good measure of humility to make such an admission. 'And trust,' a little voice whispered insistently as she moved to sit next to him on the bench.

"It looks effortless to me. Tell me about how to throw a pot?"

He knew what she was doing and he was grateful for the distraction she offered. Her unspoken support, the way she instinctively came to him touched his heart and it was all he could do not to turn and kiss her on her cheek, on the mouth, to show her how he felt. "You need to ensure your base isn't too thin, about half an inch will be fine. Also, it shouldn't be too narrow either…"

Almost magically, the clay took on form beneath his slender hands, his quick and steady fingers. As he spoke softly and fluidly, she could feel herself slipping under his spell again. There was a subtle spicy scent about him today and unconsciously, she breathed in a little deeper and cast a sideways glance at him. She knew somewhere at the back of her mind that she was playing with fire but as always, when it came to him, self preservation was so hard to hold onto.

For five whole days she had been sneaking away after her shift, mildly terrified that Jan Di would find out where she was spending her afternoons and evenings. She had already prepared arguments in her defence: he was willing to try again, she was just being supportive, she was being a friend. Never mind that any fool who knew her would be able to poke holes in those prevarications in nanoseconds. It was impossible to stand so close to a fire and not be burnt. The question was if she would be able to withstand him. Truth be told, she was taking each day as it came.

"Give it a try." She had been somewhere miles away, a vaguely troubled look slowly shadowing her face and he decided that it was time to bring her back to the moment again, back to him. If Ga Eul thought too much and too hard, he might not succeed. "I'll keep my hands to myself," he added when he noticed her hesitation.

Biting her lower lip, Ga Eul wetted her hands and placed her fingers almost gingerly on the clay, imitating what Yi Jeong had just done. He'd slowed the speed of the wheel, thankfully and she focused on keeping her hand steady, fingers pressing firmly against the interior as the exterior of the clay glided against the forefinger of her left hand.

"Not too bad," Yi Jeong murmured and she felt a burst of pride. She had done this only a few times before and though it was far from anything he could do, it wasn't half bad either. "Now pull it up, higher."

Ga Eul frowned as she tried to follow his instructions. The clay was wobbling slightly, getting away from her. Before she could ask him to take over, he reached out and placed his hands over hers again. "Here, like this. Hold it steady."

In spite of the slightly warm clay that coated her hands up to her wrists, Ga Eul felt goosebumps erupt on her skin when he touched her. The moist clay made everything that much more slippery and his fingers sliding over hers felt too much like a caress. "Okay, I think I've got it," she said, forcing herself to speak as steadily as possible. "Sunbae…"

She took her eyes off the pot and realised her mistake too late. He met her gaze and something so intense crackled in the space between them that if she could have, she would have jumped up and backed away. "We work well together Ga Eul yang," he said simply. "I like it this way."

Her mouth went dry and she might have stopped breathing. Colours seemed more vivid even though he filled her vision. "I can't do this," she whispered and pulled her hands away. The clay warped, but Yi Jeong caught her by the wrists, his jaw set and his eyes so darkly intense that she averted her gaze.

"Yes you can. You promised me. Otherwise, there's no way I'm letting you go." Inside, his heart was pounding so hard that it filled his ears. For a few tense seconds, they remained that way, and Yi Jeong thought that his attempt to hold on to this one elusive girl was surely karma for all the hearts he had broken with his callousness. Then she relented, stopped trying to escape and he felt her hands go limp and pliant in his.

"You're not going to run away?"

She nodded and he released her. Awkwardness descended as they sat there, side by side, neither quite knowing what to do. Picking up a damp hand towel, he passed it to her, took another and started to wipe his hands clean. "I'm sorry if I pushed too hard." The words came out in a rush; he forced them out before he could take them back.

She didn't say anything, just kept rubbing out the clay from her skin. "It's okay." Her words, when she finally replied, sounded strange, almost inadequate for whatever had happened. "So, how long will it take the glaze to dry?"

"It'll take a few hours more." He was just grateful to move on. Lesson learnt, Yi Jeong told himself silently. He had to reel her in gently else she would run. "If you want to, you can try throwing the clay again. And this time, I will keep my hands to myself, I swear on that five hundred-year-old vase Jun Pyo gave me."

In spite of herself, Ga Eul felt her mouth drop open. "He gave you that for a birthday present?"

Yi Jeong grinned as the memory of that day came flooding back. "No, he's generous but not that generous. It was in return for something much bigger than my birthday."

"And that was?" she prodded impatiently when he failed to elaborate further.

"I had to bring you on that trip to New Caledonia somehow so that he could bring Jan Di as well."

She gasped in outrage. "You deceived me in return for some ancient pot?"

"Vase, Ga Eul yang, and it's a very valuable—Ouch!" Yi Jeong ducked as she tried to hit him with the towel again. "Temper temper Ga Eul yang." And laughing, ducked again as she threw it at him.

"That'll teach you to trade me in for some pot," she emphasised the last word, wrinkling her nose at him. "So, where is this paragon of ceramics that caused you to go to the shop and drag me out with you?"

"It's in the museum actually. Would you like to go and see it?"

It wasn't a date. As long as she kept that in mind. And maybe some time outside, in public, would do them good and help bury any remaining awkwardness. "Alright, let's go. If it isn't as beautiful as I expect it to be, we can come back here and I'll try throwing the clay, at you this time."

"Anything to help you improve your aim, my dear."

"Why you—!"