Forbidden Desire

“He left me here, he really left me alone at the shopping mall and went to take his mom home without even caring to know how I was after everything I’ve been through.” I grabbed my phone and impulsively replied, “No need! I’ll take a taxi back.”

I felt so lost that I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the man in front of me, who was observing me.

“Was it him?” he asked.

I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes.

“He disappointed you again, didn’t he?” he remarked.

I tried to smile to hide my tears, but they simply rolled down, and he pulled me into his chest, allowing the tears to flow freely.

“Think of a flaw… You’ll feel better,” he suggested.

After a moment of contemplation, I confessed, “He doesn’t think before doing things that hurt me.”

“What else?” he inquired.

“I think he’s ashamed of me,” I admitted.

He gently lifted my face away from his chest, prompting me to look at him.

“Ashamed of you? How so?” he probed further.

“Because of how I dress, or maybe because I’m not refined and slender like his ex,” I explained.

“What? He compares you to his ex?” he exclaimed incredulously, taking a step back.

“Not directly, but today he took me to a clothing store to buy clothes like hers,” I revealed.

“What? How do you even accept something like that? I don’t even know this guy, and I already think he’s the biggest idiot in the world!” he exclaimed, clearly appalled by the situation.

“It’s not quite like that. I even understand him, after having a woman like her… It must be hard to be with an ordinary woman,” I tried to rationalize.

“Because she’s some kind of goddess?” he questioned.

“No, but in short, she fits ALL the beauty standards while I can’t even find clothes for my body in this country,” I lamented.

“So she’s a plastic doll, right? Because standards are just that, a bunch of people who believe there’s only one type of beauty, who think weight, color, or any other classification defines who you are. Being thin doesn’t define your beauty. You’re beautiful, you have an incredible body, and any man would be lucky to have you,” he reassured me, causing me to blush as he ran his hands over my arms.

“You’re perfect just the way you are. You’re unique. Beautiful in your own way and you don’t need to fit into any standard to be wonderful,” he added.

I smiled and nodded in agreement. “Thank you, I wish more people thought like you.”

“The right people will think that way. Anyone who discriminates against you for any of these criteria doesn’t deserve to be near you. Just stay away from those people,” he advised.

“I don’t know… Maybe people are right and I really need a diet. Maybe I’ll feel more secure that way,” I mused.

“No! That’s wrong! Want to know if weight makes a difference? Think of the person you’re in love with,” he suggested.

I thought for a moment and ended up giving a small smile. “Now imagine them with 10 kilos more.”

I imagined it, and I think he’d still be cute and cuddly.

“Did that change how you feel about him? Do you think he’s less attractive or deserves less of your love because of that?” he questioned.

“Of course not!” I replied emphatically.

“Exactly! Because that kind of thing doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how much you like that person. Please promise me you won’t depreciate yourself like this anymore… You’re beautiful! I know I shouldn’t tell you that because we just met today, but since in less than 10 seconds you were already on top of me, I don’t think it’s a problem. You’re VERY hot! Like, if you’re not the standard, I want to invent a new standard right now just with hot women like you,” he teased, causing me to laugh.

“And let’s keep this hotness. Have you eaten?” he changed the subject.

I shook my head no, and he signaled the waiter who brought a menu.

“Now choose the most delicious and greasy thing on this menu for us to eat together!” he suggested playfully.

We spent some time laughing and chatting as I chose a steak with lots of fries from the menu. We talked for what felt like hours, and I recounted my entire story to him, from the moment I arrived in Korea. He was outraged by half of the things I said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his reactions. Throughout our conversation, he constantly encouraged me and made me feel better. After we finished eating, he shared a bit about his work, though he didn’t disclose exactly what he did. Nevertheless, I could sense that he felt a lot of pressure and was always afraid of controversies or being misunderstood. At some point, he paused and watched me.

“What’s wrong? Is my face dirty?” I asked, noticing his intense gaze.

“I’m just thinking about how amazing you are,” he confessed, causing me to blush.

“Coming to a totally different country, accepting a job far below your qualifications, not to diminish your work, of course, because all work is dignified, but… Wow… You’re an artist! You should be living off your art!” he expressed his admiration, making me blush even more.

“You don’t even know if I’m good,” I hesitated.

“What?” he exclaimed. “You wouldn’t have gotten a scholarship if you weren’t good… But, let’s find out now!”

He called the waiter and asked for paper and a pencil. After a while, he handed me the materials and urged, “Go ahead! Draw something for me… Anything…”

I accepted the challenge, opening the sketchpad and starting to draw him. As I focused on capturing his features, a smile crept onto my face. Despite not having the right materials, the drawing was turning out surprisingly well. After some time, I showed him the result, and he was astonished.

“And you still have doubts if you’re a good artist? Look at this… It’s beautiful!” he praised.

“The model helps,” I joked, realizing I might have made him feel self-conscious.

“Thank you! But see? You’re an artist! You should remember that,” he reminded me.

“Yeah, you’re right!” I agreed, feeling a newfound sense of confidence.

“So know that you’re beautiful, incredible, sweet, spontaneous, you’re an amazing artist, and you’re also very hot!” he complimented, causing me to laugh.

As I hid behind the drawing, he gently pulled it away. “If this guy Jason doesn’t see all that then he doesn’t deserve your love. If I had someone like you, who was so incredible and loved me so much, I wouldn’t have eyes or thoughts for anyone else and certainly wouldn’t try to change anything about you, because you’re already perfect just the way you are!”

“Thank you!” I replied sincerely, touched by his words.

My phone started ringing, indicating a call from Jason. Glancing out the window, I realized it was already night.

“My God! It’s almost time for my class!” I exclaimed in realization.

“I’ll take you!” he offered.

“No! Imagine, I’ve already caused you enough trouble!” I protested.

“It wasn’t any trouble, and I insist!” he insisted.

“No, really… I’m not answering Jason’s call, and I risk him being at the college door waiting for me or his driver, so getting into a stranger’s car would cause me problems,” I explained.

He seemed disappointed but didn’t push further. “Okay, then at least let me take you to the taxi.”

“Okay!” I agreed.

We left the restaurant and took the elevator down to the first floor.

“Give me your phone?” he requested suddenly.

I hesitated, considering the potential complications.

“Sorry, I think it’s better not…” I began.

“How come? Fate brought us together, and you’re going to separate us?” he teased lightly, eliciting a smile from me.

“Well, if it’s fate, then it’ll bring us together again. That way, we’ll know it’s a sign from the universe,” I replied optimistically.

“You still have doubts?” he questioned.

“Of course!” I admitted with a shy smile.

He seemed to ponder for a moment before asking, “Jane… What’s your last name?”

I paused to think, realizing that Jason had never asked me that.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Oliveira…” I responded.

He smiled and repeated the name with a charming accent. “That’s unfair. I don’t even know your first name…”

He shrugged and smiled. “Life is like that!”

We bid farewell with a hug before I got into the taxi. As the driver pulled away, I heard his voice calling out to me.

“Jane!”

I turned to look at him.

“It’s Jihoon…”

Surprised, I couldn’t help but smile as the taxi drove off.