Chapter 9. Habit
“Um, Executive Director….”
Still lying down, Yua fumbled along the floor in search of a flashlight. When she found a warm presence instead, she instinctively clung to it, her hand trailing up Lee Jun’s arm.
Right in front of her, his firm chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath.
“This is harassment, Yoon Yua.”
Lee Jun growled lowly, clutching her wrist tightly as if to warn her.
It was actually a relief there was no light. She bit her lips tightly, afraid he’d notice her flushed cheeks. Just then—plop—a thick droplet landed next to her mouth.
“Ah!”
The metallic tang of blood made her frown. She’d vaguely sensed the scent of blood from the moment he wiped his lips earlier.
A cold breeze blew in, possibly from a tear in the tent fabric, sending chills down her spine.
Lee Jun, supporting himself on an elbow to avoid putting his weight on her, was panting heavily.
“Don’t move.”
“You don’t move. You keep touching me.”
“What? What’s touching…”
Every time she breathed, her soft upper body pressed flush against him. Yua, flustered, tried to push him off with all her might, but he didn’t budge an inch.
Annoyed by her squirming, he furrowed his brows and muttered,
“Stop pushing, Yoon Yua. My head hurts.”
She was pushing his chest, so why was he saying his head hurt?
When she asked how long they were going to stay like this, he only groaned in pain, giving no answer.
“Don’t mess around, Executive Director Kang.”
Her sharp remark made him let out a scoffing laugh.
As she tried to shift to avoid the raindrops falling on her face, he asked with a hint of disappointment,
“Do you really not trust me?”
“Why would I?”
“…That hurts.”
Thud!
Just then, something flew in from somewhere and crashed through the tent fabric, striking the back of Lee Jun’s head with a loud thump.
Thump. His body slumped down completely on top of Yua.
As his breath tickled the nape of her neck, she instinctively drew in like a turtle. It was an especially sensitive spot for her—she couldn’t help but squirm.
“Ugh…”
She twisted her waist and pressed her toes to the ground, but Lee Jun remained limp and unmoving.
She managed to wriggle one arm free and pushed him to the side. Unlike earlier, his body rolled over easily.
“Executive Director?”
“…….”
“Director Kang. Kang Lee Jun.”
No matter how she shook him or called his name, there was no response. Panic set in.
Looking up, she saw a large plastic barrel lying outside the torn tent. It was something they’d brought for an old sewer replacement project. It must’ve blown in with the wind.
“What’s wrong with you?”
A flash of lightning lit up the area briefly.
His forehead was split, possibly by a hairpin caught in the fabric, and already swelling and red. That’s when she realized—what had been falling on her wasn’t rain, but blood.
Had he moved reflexively when the object came flying? Even if not, the fact remained: he had protected her.
Yua felt a surge of guilt and gratitude at once.
“D-Did he die…? Was it because of me…?”
That couldn’t be.
She panicked, eyes welling with tears, and began patting his shoulder repeatedly.
She didn’t want to become a woman who killed her ex-husband the moment she returned to the past.
“CPR? No—mouth-to-mouth?”
What should she do first?
Her mind tangled in confusion. Muttering, she climbed onto Lee Jun’s body and placed her hands over his chest, fingers interlocked.
In the chaos, she didn’t even realize she was straddling him—her posture now the exact opposite of earlier.
“P-Please don’t die… Executive Director! You can’t die…”
Just as she was about to press down on his chest, he groaned and murmured, grabbing her wrist.
“…Do you want me to die?”
The spot where the barrel hit throbbed dully. He opened his eyes just enough to see Yua’s tear-streaked face right in front of him.
Her nose was as red as a ripe pomegranate. The impulse to take a bite and see how she tasted was overwhelming.
“I’m not dead yet.”
“Executive Director…”
A faint lotus fragrance clung to her as she moved. Maybe that’s why—a certain part of his body involuntarily responded to the pleasant weight on his thigh.
“Don’t kill me off at your convenience, Yoon Yua.”
“…….”
“That’s a bad habit.”
Even in her daze, Yua realized what had happened.
Face burning all the way up her neck, she quickly got off his thigh. Trying to regain composure, she cleared her throat and placed a thick jacket over his lower body.
“It’s not—uh… You might be cold.”
Lee Jun, still lying flat due to his aching back and sore shoulder, swore softly.
“…Ha…”
Raising an arm to cover his eyes—that might’ve been the smartest thing he did all day.
*
As luck would have it, the storm had passed, leaving a tense silence inside the tent.
Even the sound of breathing echoed loudly. Yua bit her lip, trying to hide the awkwardness.
She didn’t bother brushing away the sleek black hair that had fallen over her forehead.
“Um—”
“Yoon Yua.”
They both opened their mouths at the same time, then shut them again like it was rehearsed.
Lee Jun, sitting up with disheveled hair, picked up the jacket from the floor and handed it to her.
“The rain’s stopped for now, but it’ll return by dawn. And with the tent ripped… shouldn’t you just go back home?”
This wasn’t a disaster duct tape could fix. The cold creeping up from the ground made their teeth chatter.
When Yua didn’t give an answer right away, Lee Jun suddenly yelped. Yua rushed to him, thinking he was in pain.
“A hospital… You need to go to the hospital!”
Earlier she’d called him Mr. Kang. She even said “you” a few times—it wasn’t bad.
But now she was back to calling him “Executive Director,” like putting up a wall. He found it annoying.
Rubbing the swollen gash on his forehead with his palm, Lee Jun groaned.
“I’m in pain, Yoon Yua.”
Dried blood trailed from his temple. Yua sighed and said, “Exactly—so go to the hospital,” her tone sharp.
Lee Jun shrugged it off, saying it wasn’t worth a hospital trip, and that rest at home would be enough.
When she got tired of insisting, she snapped, “Then at least call Dr. Kim,” and turned away.
“This is it?”
“Yeah? What more do you want me to do for someone who doesn’t want to go to the hospital?”
Blocking her path, Lee Jun spoke with a sly grin.
“You saved my life. At least drive me home.”
Yua ended up behind the wheel, driving Lee Jun to his family estate.
“It’s your forehead that’s hurt, not your arms,” she muttered, annoyed. He just smiled brightly and winced dramatically whenever she glanced his way.
“Ugh…”
As she parked the black car in front of the mansion and got ready to get out, her body suddenly lifted off the ground.
“E-Executive Director!”
Lee Jun, tall and strong, easily slung her over his shoulder.
When Yua gasped and flailed, he grinned mischievously.
“I’m hurt, Yua.”
Even his shoulder radiated warmth. As she hesitated, he sealed the deal—saying he might have a skull fracture and needed Dr. Kim.
Good thing it was deep into the night. If anyone saw her being carried into the Taegyeom family home like that, she’d never live it down.
Lee Jun climbed the stairs to the second floor effortlessly, even in the dark. The heavy musk of his room wrapped around her as she finally exhaled.
Amused, he raised an eyebrow and asked,
“What? Worried someone will see?”
As they ascended the stairs, her body had twisted awkwardly on his shoulder, pressing into his stomach. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to stifle any sound.
“You never know.”
Cautious as ever, she stood awkwardly by the door, not even sitting on the sofa or a chair.
Lee Jun leaned in, trapping her between the wall and his body, smiling playfully.
His breath brushed her cheek and nape, making her stiffen.
He whispered low into her ear, his cold, adult demeanor masking a boyish teasing tone. His eyes curled like crescents.
“So what if they see? We’ll just say we’re sleeping together.”
