Mr. Baker looked at the shorter man sitting in the chair across from his desk from over his glasses. “Mr. Park,” he started, and then stopped, not sure how to breach this subject. The man nodded eagerly, staring at him with wide eyes. Mr. Baker sighed and took his glasses off, fiddling with them in his hands before setting them down on his desk.
“I’m sure your writing was very good,” he blinked, “but I can’t read Korean.”
Chanyeol made absolutely no response to this, and then nodded eagerly again. Mr. Baker assumed that was the only thing he knew how to do. “And I guess you don’t understand English.”
Chanyeol was still nodding, and he smiled along this time, showing off rows of pearly white teeth. Mr. Baker looked into them, not entirely sure whether to frown or to burst out laughing.
“Maybe if you could find a translator,” he felt silly, this young man wasn’t catching a single word he said, so he should probably just hold his breath. “And then resubmit everything to me. But for now, I can’t give you anything. Sorry.”
Chanyeol stayed staring at him. Mr. Baker stared right back, and under the gaze Chanyeol leaned back into his chair. “Is this a no?”
Mr. Baker didn’t speak Korean, either. He sighed again, losing his patience. “You can go now.” He paused, and then motioned towards the door dismissively. “Go. Goodbye. I’m sorry.”
Chanyeol didn’t move. Mr. Baker didn’t move either. They sat there staring each other down, completely unsure of what to say, and they both broke the silence and jumped at each other at the same time, unable to hold back any longer. Clothes were flung across the room in reckless abandon, and Chanyeol moved to lock the door, and then returned to Mr. Baker’s strong arms. He felt awkward being the shorter person in the embrace, but it was oh so comfortable. It was true: love transcended all boundaries.