A sweet moment

Haeun was supposed to leave that night, return to her dorm and prepare to resume her duties early next morning. I hated the thought of it. I hated how the air seemed thinner as the hours slipped by, hated how I found myself watching the clock instead of her. **** to break myself free from its incessant ticking, I proposed to go out on a stroll, take our minds off it, forget about the deadline hanging over us.

The streets were still and quiet, as they always were, and we didn’t speak much at first—our steps were slow, our hands intertwined. When we passed the candy store however, she stopped, tugging gently on my arm. “Wait,” she said, her voice carrying that soft, playful lilt that always made my chest feel a little too tight. She pressed her face close to the window, peering in at the rows of colorful bins. “Sour candy,” she said, almost wistfully. “God, I haven’t had that in months.”

I looked down at her, surprised. “Really? But they are your favorite!”

She nodded, turning back to me with a smile that was both mischievous and sad. “They banned candy at the dorms. Too much sugar. Bad for the figure.” She ran her hands down her sweater as if to emphasize the point, as though I had not felt her bones through her thin skin as we made love, had not noticed how her hips jutted out more than they used to.

I didn’t say anything; I just walked in. The little bell above the door rang out, and she laughed behind me, delighted but a little embarrassed. “What are you doing?” she called.

“What does it look like?” I said over my shoulder.

The shopkeeper—a man with gray hair and a kind face—watched me as I moved to the sour section. Rows of neon-colored gummies and sour strips stared back at me. I grabbed a little bag, filling it without much thought, and paid quickly. When I came back outside, she was still standing there, grinning like a cheshire cat.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said as I handed her the bag.

“I can’t believe you didn’t.”

She popped it open immediately, pulling out a green candy coated in sugar and sour dust. Her nose scrunched at the first bite, and she laughed as she chewed. “Blaugh! I forgot how sour they are!”

We ended up on a park bench, her cross-legged beside me as she worked through the bag. The park was almost empty, the day settling in around us with only the occasional rustle of leaves or distant bark of a dog. She offered me some candy, but I declined, watching her instead as she tried to hide her grimaces behind a half-smile. Her lips were puckered from the sourness, her fingers dusted with fine sugar, and every now and then, her gaze would meet mine from behind her sunglasses and linger just a little too long.

It was when she popped another piece into her mouth that she shifted suddenly, swinging her leg over mine and straddling me there on the bench. My breath caught in my throat as her weight settled against me, her arms draping loosely over my shoulders. Her face was so close that I could see the faint shine of sugar still clinging to her lower lip.

“Do you want some? I can make it less sour for you if that helps.” she asked, her voice soft and teasing.

I swallowed, feeling my pulse quicken. “Okay,” I managed.

She smiled then—slow and wicked—and leaned in, her face tilting just slightly. Her lips brushed mine, feather-light, and then I tasted it: the sharp, electric sourness of the candy, almost unbearable at first. But then her mouth softened against mine, the sweetness breaking through like a quiet reprieve. The flavors mingled—the tang of the candy and the warmth of her. My hands slid instinctively to her waist, feeling the thin fabric of her sweater and the soft curves of her hips beneath it. She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes unreadable behind the shades, before leaning in again.

This time, the kiss deepened, slow but hungry. I felt her mouth open, her tongue pushing something into mine—the half-melted candy, sweet and tart, dissolving between us. Our tongues intertwined, rolling and twisting the candy until there was nothing left of it but its aftertaste. We broke apart, breathing harder than before, our lips sticky with sugar and saliva. She popped in another piece, holding it on her tongue to let it melt for a while, as we both caught our breath. When it was ready, she kissed me again.

And so we kissed like that for a while—long, languid kisses punctuated by bursts of sharp sweetness. Every now and then, she would pull back to offer me a new piece from between her teeth. I would pull her back in, chewing at her face and sucking at her tongue until the sourness was gone and all I could taste was her. At some point, my hand slipped beneath her sweater; at some other point, her hips started to grind into me; at some other point, the candy bag was forgotten.

It wasn’t until the faint clack of a cane on pavement reached us that we broke apart. I turned my head just in time to see an old woman in a beige coat, her tiny dog tugging on its leash, looking at us with a mixture of disdain and resignation. She tutted loudly, shaking her head. “Young people these days,” she muttered, her voice carrying just enough for us to hear.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the weight of what had just happened settling between us. It was dangerous—we both knew it. If anyone had seen, if anyone had recognized her, it would have been disastrous. This was precisely what we had talked about in the morning, why we agreed to not play our games with strangers.

But even as that thought flickered in the back of my mind, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

“We should go,” she murmured, though she didn’t sound particularly convinced either.

“Yeah,” I said, but neither of us made a move to stand.

Eventually, she slipped off my lap, brushing the wrinkles out of her sweater, and I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I watched her as she picked up the bag of candy, her fingers still sticky with sugar.

“Come on,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let’s keep walking."

I took it, letting her pull me to my feet, and as we walked, I gently sucked away the last traces of our moment together from her fingers, knowing that nothing would ever taste as sweet.