ALDA 03

Chapter-3  

Did It Hurt?

It was last March when she first met Cha Young-hoon.

Winter, reluctant to leave, still lingered in the air that day. The man appeared, carrying that bleak chill with him.
Without notice. Without courtesy.
His strikingly handsome face betrayed not the slightest hint of apology for the sudden intrusion.

He had called the museum director while on his way — said he’d drop by soon. The director, out on an external appointment at the time, was just as flustered.

“He’s an important guest. Make sure he’s well taken care of.”

Even over the phone, Director Song’s tone had been stern.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. That day was her younger sister Eun-ji’s elementary school entrance ceremony.
The half-day leave that Eun-hee had been officially granted for the occasion was, naturally, revoked.

She pictured her little sister standing apart, watching other children surrounded by family.
The thought of it made her chest tighten, as though she’d swallowed dust.

She’d never been an affectionate sister. Eun-ji was her half-sibling — a child left behind by their father one day. Eun-hee had taken her in purely out of duty.
But today, she couldn’t stop thinking about her. That lonely little girl must be hurting now — feeling the same familiar isolation Eun-hee herself had known all too well.

And all because of that man’s unannounced, inconsiderate visit.

“Honestly…”

It wasn’t like her to feel this kind of anger.
But she didn’t want to show it — she never did.

That was how she’d lived her whole life.
Swallowing hurt, suppressing resentment, and waiting until her emotions faded into nothing.

That day, too, she went to the garden behind the museum to calm herself.
She needed to collect herself before facing her boss’s precious guest with a polite smile.

It was a secluded spot — her secret refuge.
There stood a round granite basin up to her waist, guarding the foot of a tall, pole-like tree.

But someone was already there.
An intruder.

He had claimed the only sunny patch of the garden, standing there brazenly, flicking a Zippo lighter beneath a bright red No Smoking sign.

Clack. Clack.
The metallic rhythm grated on her nerves.

Clearly, the man had no sense of basic manners. He was definitely a first-time visitor.

“Excuse me.”

Eun-hee called out softly to the man’s back.
She took care not to let her irritation slip into her tone. She always policed her emotions, always maintained politeness.

The man turned.

A sharp gust of wind swept through, and the long hem of his black coat flared like a banner.

The air around him vibrated with something sharp, almost hostile. The moment it touched her, Eun-hee’s vision blurred.
It was happening again — that strange, sudden dizziness that had begun plaguing her recently.
Her heart lurched in fear.

When she blinked open her eyes, he was standing squarely before her.

Even with the five meters between them, his presence loomed — broad, solid, immovable as stone.
Eun-hee thought he looked like a rock carved from living muscle.

Cha Young-hoon looked down at her, coolly, as if asking without words: Well? What is it you want?

His hand moved to his jacket pocket, ignoring her entirely, groping for something inside.

A moment later, he pulled out a cigarette and slipped it between his lips.
Every movement was unhurried, bored.

And yet, in all that calm, there was not even the smallest courtesy of a reply.

Eun-hee bit the inside of her lip. The blatant disregard stung.

But she decided to remain polite.

“This is a no-smoking area.”

She even lifted the corners of her lips — just slightly.

Perfectly polite. Deliberately so, like drawing a clean boundary line between them.

Her tone might’ve been mechanical, but she kept her manners intact.

Her expectation of a simple apology crumbled with his next words.

“Is that so?”

The man answered lazily.

Then, without hesitation, he flipped open his golden Zippo.

Clack.
That metallic sound again.
A flame bloomed, red and wavering in the wind.

Eun-hee’s lips pressed tightly together as she stared at him.

Surely he wouldn’t—

Would he actually light it, after being told not to?

The insult burned hot in her chest.

Fine, then. An eye for an eye.
She met his defiance with silence.

The cold wind filled the distance between them, carrying an invisible tension that crackled like ice.

“……”
“……”

Then, unexpectedly, the man gave a short laugh. He seemed amused by her stubborn silence.
That only stoked her anger further.

“I told you,” she repeated, “this is a no-smoking area.”

“Are you an employee here?”

He lit the cigarette anyway, exhaling a slow, deliberate plume.

Eun-hee’s eyes widened.
What kind of audacity was this? She stared, incredulous.

He didn’t flinch.

That mocking smirk, that probing gaze — the way he blew smoke right at her — everything about him grated against her nerves.

A truly awful man, she thought.

She clenched her eyes shut.

I hate him.
I really, really hate him.

And then—

A faint breeze brushed through her hair.

Shh.

A rough finger pressed against her lips.

“Don’t move.”

His voice was low. Commanding.

Eun-hee’s body went rigid.

She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy, as if weighed down by lead.

The man’s hand rose, cupping her chin gently.

A shock of sensation shot through her — her body trembled like a live wire.

Instinctively, she pressed her knees together.

“Relax,” Cha Young-hoon murmured, almost soothingly.

But there was no way she could.

Her body wouldn’t move, but she struggled anyway, twisting weakly.
“…Don’t,” she whimpered, barely audible.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

Yet his breath lingered hotly near her lips.

She couldn’t see, but she could feel his breath — warm, invasive, too close.
Her breath hitched in fear.

With effort, she pried her eyes open.

And there he was — his face hovering just above hers.

“……”

Even in the dark, his eyes gleamed with a piercing light.

He’s going to devour me…

She didn’t know what that meant exactly, but the primal terror in her body understood it well.

Adrenaline surged.

She tried to sit up, but his hand was faster — he pushed her shoulders back down.

The long sofa beneath them screeched as it slid across the floor.

He pinned both her wrists above her head.

The sudden motion made her chest heave, the curves of her slender body trembling uncontrollably.

Shame flooded her.

His eyes, dark and heavy, lingered where they shouldn’t. She wanted to disappear into the couch beneath her.

It felt as though his massive body could crush her, break her apart.

Please, stop… she sobbed inwardly.

“I told you,” he said, voice low and firm, “to stay still.”

Defeat seeped into her. There was no winning this.

“You think I’d actually hurt someone who just fainted? Do I look like some kind of lunatic to you?”

“Th-that kind of talk… it scares me…”

She was terrified.

Of his ragged breathing in the darkness.
Of the strange, dangerous offer he had made before.

Young-hoon steadied his breath, then said quietly:

“I’m not that kind of man. Just… sleep. I’m only checking to see if you’re okay.”

And somehow, Eun-hee believed him. Or wanted to.
Her body wasn’t right anyway — not since the moment she’d collapsed.

She shouldn’t sleep. She knew that.

But she couldn’t fight it.
The pull of unconsciousness was too strong.

What’s happening to me…

The thought flickered briefly — then everything went dark.

When she finally opened her eyes again, the voice she heard was not his.

“Did it hurt?”

The girl who asked smiled brightly.