Chapter 9
The house was filled with heavy silence.
The second hand of the clock ticked past twelve o’clock and one second, as though time itself had grown unbearably heavy, like being stranded on the moon.
Am I dead?
Did it catch me?
What if the man covering me right now turns into a ghost’s face?
Clinging desperately to the shoulders of the man beneath her, Seola gathered her courage and asked:
“…Han Suhyeok? You are Han Suhyeok, right?”
The man slowly raised his head.
It was definitely Suhyeok’s face!
Carefully, Seola reached out to touch it. Her trembling fingertips trailed down along his brow bone, brushed his cheek, then slid like a brushstroke across the bridge of his nose, tracing down to the curve of his lips.
“You really are Han Suhyeok, right? You’re not some ghost pretending to be him, right? Right?”
“I’m me. Cinderella.”
Suhyeok let out a small laugh, only to have his breath catch mid-chuckle.
“I’m glad to see you!”
Seola threw her arms around his neck, clutching as though she might break him.
To say she was glad—in the middle of this—was absurd.
And yet, it was true that every moment tonight felt stranger and newer than the last, impossible to grow used to.
Still, Suhyeok smiled.
And then…
“Are you okay?”
Seola blinked at him in confusion, not understanding.
“Can you bear it?”
At that, the pain finally surged. For the first time in her life, a sharp ache spread from the very core of her body.
The terror and adrenaline had numbed it until now, but all at once the sensations returned, making tears bead in the corners of her eyes.
Suhyeok brushed them away with his thumb, then pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.
“Now… with your soul in it. Like a real married couple.”
The moment he spoke, his body began to move with rhythm.
Seola curled her toes tight, biting down on the pain.
A searing ache mixed with a dizzying, almost pleasurable thrill that coursed through her from head to toe.
Her heart pounded madly, thumping hard against his chest.
Suhyeok’s hand slid down her slender waist—so slim he could almost grasp it all at once—before lifting her lightly.
“Hhht—”
When he pressed deeper, tighter, Seola bit down hard on her own hand over her lips to keep from crying out.
“Does it hurt?”
Suhyeok panted, slowing his pace just enough to read her expression.
Her nod was enough to reassure him, but it didn’t calm his surging desire.
“But… I’m happy. Because it means I’m alive…”
To feel pain—and to be able to say it hurt—what greater joy could there be?
Even while she claimed it hurt, her words of happiness made Suhyeok want to kiss her mouth instantly. He restrained himself only barely, instead sinking his teeth into the curve of her neck.
“Ah!”
That hurt too.
So it was happiness.
She could hardly believe that just an hour ago, she’d been so lost in despair she couldn’t find a shred of hope.
Now, their heated gazes held each other’s eyes.
Thank you…
Though her breathless voice couldn’t release the words, she was certain the gratitude reached his heart.
Suhyeok had once told her—thanks, apologies, things like that—he’d understand even without them being spoken. He hadn’t been lying.
So there really are people who can understand without words…
Their quickening breaths tangled together, weaving the air tighter and tighter between them.
Just as Seola’s expression softened in relief, surrendering herself to this fragile joy—
Drrrrr… drrrrrk…!
The bookshelf against the wall suddenly began to rattle, as though struck by an earthquake.
Seola instinctively turned her gaze toward it, but Suhyeok quickly covered her eyes with his hand.
“Don’t look.”
So he had remembered the shaman’s warning he’d pretended to ignore earlier.
“Shhh…”
He pressed a finger to her lips, then sealed it with his own kiss.
Pretend it didn’t happen.
Just like the moment earlier when they’d avoided the shaman’s demand with a kiss.
Only this time, it was slower… stickier.
His calm, languid gaze as he looked down at her helped her heartbeat settle back into rhythm.
“Look only at me.”
Seola forced herself to keep her eyes locked on his, struggling to regulate her ragged breathing.
Thud!
A heavy book slammed against the wall right beside the bed, making her lashes tremble.
“If you don’t think you can handle it… then don’t look at anything at all.”
As his lips pressed against her eyelids, she naturally let her eyes close.
It was obvious now—the ghost’s plans had gone up in smoke.
After carefully preparing night after night, it was about to take its bride to the afterlife—only for her to be stolen away before its very eyes.
And so, its fury began in earnest.
Bang! … CRASH! Thud-thud-thud!
Books and objects flew off the shelves like fireworks, slamming against the walls near the bed.
With every shatter and crash, Seola’s shoulders flinched tighter and tighter.
Suhyeok pulled her trembling body more firmly into his arms.
BANG!
Just before a scream could tear from her throat, he sealed her mouth with his own.
The windows burst open, the night wind swirling madly through the house, sending everything lightweight flying.
The lights flickered on and off like a strobe, while more objects hurtled through the air.
Clearly, everything was being aimed at the bed.
And yet, none of it struck them.
Instead, as if breaking the laws of physics, each flying object curved midair, veering away and crashing against other walls—never the bed.
While Seola wept silently into his chest, Suhyeok kept his composure.
The bizarre phenomenon unfolding before him was so extraordinary it nearly pulled his attention away from the woman beneath him.
The occult fanatic inside him was practically ecstatic—his dopamine spiking off the charts.
He barely resisted the urge to turn and witness the spectacle directly.
And then—
“…!”
He felt fingers brushing against his back.
“Are you scared?”
The fingers belonged to Seola.
Suhyeok looked down at her, surprised.
“My back… I’ve always been most afraid of my back…”
Even trembling with fear, she wrapped her shaking arms around his back.
Her words—Are you scared?—fell on his heart like sparks, spreading a sudden warmth.
This wasn’t the kind of line a man usually heard in bed.
Is she… worrying about me, right now?
He’d thought of this act as nothing more than survival—a desperate attempt to feel a connection in the face of death. Something out of fiction.
But this? To be moved?
This fragile girl, lips quivering with fear, still worrying whether he was scared…
“If I do this… maybe you’ll feel less afraid…”
She stretched her thin arms wide, palms pressed against his back, stroking him softly as if to comfort him.
Her dark eyes shone with determination, as though she intended to stand guard against the ghost’s ruthless assault.
A faint smile tugged at Suhyeok’s lips.
She’s so small… and yet with these slender arms, she’s trying to protect me by holding my back…
Clumsy, yes. But adorable. And painfully tender.
How many nights had this small body spent alone, paralyzed with fear?
“Ah—no!”
When another object shattered violently against the wall, Seola instinctively pulled him closer, shielding his head with her hands.
“….”
And then, panting, she trembled even harder than before.
Suhyeok gazed down at his “fake bride” of the night.
At least for tonight… she’s mine.
