Chapter 13 – Learning to Read Again
The apartment smelled faintly of toasted bread and morning coffee. Erica sat cross-legged on the floor by the window, the sun pressing its soft heat on her face, hair falling in gentle waves over her shoulders. In front of her was a large white sheet of paper with wide, black strokes that made up crude Korean letters.
She ran her fingertips across the ridged ink, trying to memorize the shape. Each stroke held weight, memory, meaning. And though she couldn’t see them, she imagined the letters like shapes in her mind, attaching sounds to sensation.
"Okay, eto," Jepoy said, sitting beside her with a pen in hand. His writing was clumsy at best, like someone who hadn’t touched a classroom in years. “That’s the letter G. Giyok."
Erica tilted her head. "It feels like a crooked rectangle."
"That’s probably because I wrote it sideways," he admitted, laughing. "Sorry, Miss Erica, pasang-awa ako sa sulat."
She laughed too, resting her elbow on her knee. “Pasang-awa is better than nothing.”
He watched her face glow with warmth, the smile that made his chest ache a little. She wasn’t fragile. She was powerful. A woman without sight who still challenged the world to try her.
They had been learning Hangeul together for a week now. Jepoy never thought he’d be sitting on a living room floor learning a new language, but with Erica, everything felt new. Necessary. Like it would mean something someday.
"Try this one," he said, taking her hand and guiding it over another shape. "This is 'eo'."
She smiled. “Feels like a bucket."
"Yup. Bucket full of feelings."
“Wow,” she chuckled. “That was cheesy.”
“Cheesy but true.”
He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit bashful.
"You’re improving, though," she said, shifting toward him. "You remember more than I do."
"Because I study every night, Miss Erica. Masipag akong student kapag maganda ang teacher."
She rolled her eyes. “You flirt too much.”
He grinned. “Only when I mean it.”
Silence stretched comfortably between them. The kind that didn’t need to be broken.
“Why are you doing this with me?” she asked softly. “Learning with me?”
He shrugged, but his voice was steady. “Maybe because I learn best when it’s with someone I want to see happy.”
Erica’s fingers hesitated over the paper.
She didn’t say anything.
And Jepoy didn’t need her to.
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