The Maid | P.Sh

| 29 |

"Okay... any cigs, drugs, alcohol bottles. Just anything disgusting you can throw in this bag," I stated and opened a big plastic bag and placed it on the middle  of the floor in the living room kitchen, "okay?"

"Is that actually possible to come across?" Sunghoon glanced between the plastic bag and me.

"Go take the bedroom then. I'll take care of it out here," I stated and he just nodded and rushed down to the bedroom.

I sighed before beginning to take the few books we had, out of the bookshelves. I flipped through each page and pulled out the small bags with anything in them, out of the books and threw them in the big trashbag I had pulled out.

"Yah, Sieun," a voice called out and I hummed and looked over towards the bedroom, "get in here."

I quietly hummed before moving my way over to the bedroom and poked my head in before my eyes fell on various painting canvases that was pulled out and laid on the bed.

"Is this yours?" Sunghoon questioned in amusement and pointed to the paintings.

"Ignore them," I waved it off, "we'll burn them with the couch and bed."

"Oh no we're not," he shook his head and looked through the paintings.

"Okay... give the one with koi fish to Jake. He wanted that one," I stated and Sunghoon glanced towards me.

"He did?" he questioned in shock and I hummed, "when?"

"At the launch party," I shrugged, he quietly hummed and found the painting before placing it to the side.

"And what about the rest?" he questioned me.

"I'll burn it," I shrugged and he frowned over at me.

"I'll buy them from you," he shook his head.

"No you won't," I let out a small laugh at him.

"No, I will," he shook his head at me, "these are too good to just burn... you want to be a painter?"

"Architect," I corrected him and he simply snickered.

"Who's this?" he questioned and held up a small portrait making me let out a small smile before pointing to the bedside stand beside him and he picked up an identical photograph to the painting, "who is it?"

"My mom," I replied and he looked down at the photograph in his hands as he placed the painting down on the bed.

"Really?" he questioned and I hummed at him.

"She was a really delicate woman," I nodded.

"She looks like you," he commented, "how old is she here?"

"About... 32, I believe," I replied and he arched a brow at me.

"You have her eyes," he stated and I shook my head.

"Hers was lighter," I corrected.

"So? She looks just like you," he commented and I let out a hum.

"I'd rather not be told that," I shook my head, "not out from that picture."

"Why?" he frowned over at me.

"As far as I remember I sat behind her to hold her upright for that picture," I stated and he frowned, "she had just finished a drinking spree."

"You know... how about we take a break and talk?" he questioned and I raised both my eyebrows as he placed the photograph back on the nightstand, "I think that would be nice for us," he stated and walked over, grabbing my hand in his and walked out to the couch.

"What do you mean with talk?" I questioned as I sat down on the couch, across from him.

"I want to know more," he stated and glanced around, "this is so far off from what I've been used to. I want to hear about it, about you. How was your parents? What happened to you? I want to know so many things."

"Happened to me?" I questioned him.

"For you to fear what you fear," he hummed at me, "from the beginning. Where were you born?"

"I was born in Boseong," I replied and he raised his eyebrows, "green tea."

"Ah... I see," he nodded.

"My dad was 26 and my mom was 22. My brother is three years older than me... we moved to Seoul when I was two... my mom became a stay-home wife, my dad had his own architecture company," I explained.

"Ah, the dream of architecture," he snickered and I hummed.

"We used to live in a bigger apartment, than this," I commented and glanced around the apartment, "mom passed when I was 13, died of alcohol poissoning. We moved in here, Jihoon began abusing drugs and my dad was struggling with his company. That's when I started working as his secretary outside of school... then... Last year a bigger company took everything from my dad's company when they took the architects my dad had under him, and it just stopped there. My dad got sick, and I started working for you."

"What company bought up the architects?" Sunghoon frowned at me.

"S.Park Labels," I sighed at him and he hesitantly nodded before going silent.

"This is my fault then," he muttered in realization, "did you know when you started working for me?"

"Yes," I nodded at him, "and I was there the day you fired each and everyone of them."

"So you knew I was the reason your dad had to close his company, yet you still worked for me?" he questioned me and I simply shrugged.

"You didn't know what would happen when you did it," I waved it off and he let out a small hum.

"I'm buying the paintings," he stated and I widened my eyes at him, "it's the least I can do. I know someone who likes art and would pay a lot for them."

"Just take them," I shook my head at him, "I don't need money for them."

"Sieun?" he spoke up and I hummed before looking back at him, "where do you owe money?"

"The nursery home, funeral service, landlord," I shrugged at him, "I've nearly paid off the nursery home by now."

"I didn't sign your resignation contract," he stated and I arched a brow at him, "If you want to work the month out after this week, you're welcome to do so, I'll promote you to assisting maid, so you'll help me with my work more than you'll clean and so on, and I'll double your salary so that you can pay some of it off."

"You don't have to do that mr. Park," I shook my head at him.

"We're not at work right now," he pointed out to me and I simply nodded.

"But you're still of higher rank than me," I reminded him, "I'll call you by your name when we meet outside of work under your usual circumstances, but right now you're in my apartment and I'll treat you as your rank, so you don't feel like you got too adapted to this environment."

"I don't care Sieun," he calmly stated, "I don't want you to call me mr. Park or sir outside of work."

"Noted."

"Now it's my turn to ask a question," I stated and he arched a brow at me, "why the pumpkin flower?"

"Your dad used to call you Pumpkin. I found it fitting," he simply shrugged.

"Thank you."