At the man’s words, Gyeo-wool’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What? No, I didn’t steal this—”
“A lot of talk for someone stealing packages.”
Gyeo-wool pounded her chest indignantly.
“What do you mean, ‘stealing packages’? I just moved in today—!”
“You should be grateful I’m not reporting you. I’m letting it slide because I’m feeling generous.”
“Can I say something for once? I told you—I moved in today!”
By the time she managed to spit it all out, the front door had already slammed shut.
“What the hell is wrong with that guy? I came to return the package in case they were looking for it!”
Fuming, Gyeo-wool turned back around and stormed to the man’s door.
“You think I brought it on purpose? Don’t even know the situation and you’re calling me a thief? Ha! Unbelievable.”
Still seething, she kicked his front door hard enough for the sound to echo through the corridor.
Maybe that’s what triggered it, because the door swung open again almost immediately.
The man reappeared, a scowl deepening on his face—but Gyeo-wool bolted straight back to her own unit.
“Hey!”
Slamming the door behind her just in time, she broke into a grin of triumph.
“For the record, I run 50 meters in eight seconds.”
Her PE teacher had once begged her to join track and field.
Catching her breath, Gyeo-wool popped open a can of soda from the fridge. The fizzy carbonation burned down her throat and seemed to wash away some of the day’s exhaustion.
She looked over at the pile of still-unpacked boxes and drained the last of the cola in one go.
“Right. I still need to grab my tablet from the car…”
Despite her words, Gyeo-wool’s feet carried her toward the bedroom.
Everything felt like too much effort. She decided to leave it all to tomorrow’s Gyeo-wool and buried herself in the blankets.
They say you can’t sleep when you’re too tired. That must’ve been it.
She tossed and turned for what felt like hours.
“Thief. If you wanted it, you should’ve just said so. This is why you don’t try to help people who grew up with nothing.”
The memory flashed through her mind, making her curl into herself and clutch her pillow tightly.
She’d run all the way here trying to forget and leave it all behind… but somehow, she’d brought the worst parts of it with her.
“Maybe I was a thief in my past life…”
No matter where she went, the same accusations found their way back.
Memories she thought she had buried kept surfacing, making it impossible to fall asleep.
At twenty-seven, Han Gyeo-wool still felt trapped inside her seventeen-year-old self.
__________⋆ 𖤓 ⊹₊˚࿔ ❄︎ᝰ.________
Morning came early.
Stepping out of her bedroom, Gyeo-wool watched the sun rise over the ridgeline. She began her usual morning ritual: grinding coffee beans by hand and filling the dripper with a fine, even layer.
She poured the hot water in slow circles, and the grounds bloomed like a muffin top.
After letting it steep briefly, she continued pouring until the glass carafe was filled with fragrant coffee.
Pouring it into a pretty mug, she added the rice cakes her mother had sent the night before onto a tray and opened the door to the sunlit terrace.
The first reason she’d chosen to move to Cheonghae was the fresh air.
The second was this terrace.
To be honest, the terrace had sealed the deal.
Located in a slightly more secluded area of Cheonghae, the villa had four floors, with four households per floor—except for the fourth floor, which only had two units and more spacious layouts.
This terrace was an exclusive feature of the top floor.
As the scent of coffee filled her mouth, Gyeo-wool smiled without thinking.
So this is happiness.
“This is what happiness looks like.”
Yesterday’s storm had washed the sky clean, leaving perfect weather and a breathtaking view behind.
She placed the tray of rice cakes on a makeshift table made of moving boxes and leaned on the terrace railing, soaking in the sunlight without a single obstruction.
There was a serenity here she could never have found in the city.
The mountains, the trees, the vegetable fields, the crisp air—it felt like her chest had been pried open after years of being compressed.
Taking in a deep breath of pure morning air, Gyeo-wool looked over the 10-pyeong decked terrace behind her and thought,
A small garden would be nice. Maybe a cute table and chairs over there, too.
She was still lost in her thoughts when dark clouds began to gather over what had been a clear sky.
“What now? Don’t tell me it’s going to rain again…”
Unease prickled at her skin. She looked up at the sky, and sure enough—a fat raindrop hit her cheek like it had been waiting for that moment.
“The weather here is so unpredictable.”
Just as she turned to head inside, she locked eyes with the man next door, calmly sipping his coffee on his own terrace.
With its sky awning and glass folding doors, his terrace looked like something out of a fairy tale—like a greenhouse for royalty.
Large tropical plants were arranged in elegant harmony. Gyeo-wool’s jaw dropped.
The man met her gaze as he brought his cup to his lips in a slow, deliberate motion. Something about the way he looked at her rooted her in place.
His posture, his eyes—everything about it felt oddly charged. Gyeo-wool curled her toes instinctively inside her rubber slippers.
What the heck? Why is he staring like that?
Now that she got a proper look, his face—partially hidden behind a black mask the night before—was even more striking up close.
Snow-pale skin that looked like it had never seen the sun, glowing eyes, a sharp nose, and lips tinted like rose petals—he looked like someone out of a movie.
“Is he… an actor or something?”
She muttered to herself under her breath.
While her gaze lingered a second too long, the rain suddenly began to pour in earnest.
“Ack! That’s cold!”
Scooping up the tray and mug in a flurry, Gyeo-wool darted back inside. As she did, she caught it—just for a split second.
The corner of his mouth lifted.
“Unbelievable.”
And then, as if it had never been there, his silhouette disappeared behind the automatic black blinds.
Once inside, Gyeo-wool grabbed a towel and rushed to the bathroom.
She hadn’t realized just how clearly her face could be seen from that close. The terraces were closer than she’d thought.
If someone really wanted to, they could probably hop the railing and step right over.
When she’d toured the place three months ago, she’d been so smitten with the spacious terrace that she hadn’t even considered the neighbor’s view.
And now, just a day in, she was discovering the first real downside.
Gyeo-wool sighed as she caught her reflection in the mirror.
Soaked hair like seaweed, a face that looked like a drowned rat.
“No wonder he smirked.”
The image of the man’s mocking expression replayed in her mind, and she clicked her tongue in frustration.
If only his personality matched that face, he might’ve made a decent neighbor.
What a shame.
__________⋆ 𖤓 ⊹₊˚࿔ ❄︎ᝰ.________
By the afternoon, the potted plants and trees she’d ordered for moving day began to arrive.
She spent a while transplanting seedlings and tidying up, and soon enough, her stomach began to growl.
She considered ordering delivery but remembered the large supermarket she’d passed on her way into town.
It was about a 20-minute drive.
Despite Cheonghae’s rural feel, the city center wasn’t far off—just a short drive away, and it was full of bright lights and bustling streets.
One thing Gyeo-wool had always wanted to do after moving out was cook for herself and enjoy a beautiful meal, nicely plated.
Today seemed like the perfect time to start that dream.
She wrote down everything she needed on a memo pad and climbed into her small white compact car—one that matched her name perfectly.
When she finally returned, her arms were loaded with groceries.
“Sigh…”
She stopped at the base of the stairs and let out a deep sigh. The elevator was out for maintenance.
Which meant she had to carry all this up to the fourth floor.
“Seriously? Can nothing go right today?”
As she swept her long hair out of her face, she remembered the man’s amused look that morning—mocking her rain-soaked mess.
It had been a while since she’d gone out, and even when she did, she couldn’t stay in crowded places for long.
A kind of trauma had followed her for years.
Her energy had already been drained by the time she got home.
“Why now, of all times?”
Time ticked by as she waited pointlessly. The sunset stretched long shadows over her toes.
The day was ending.
Her bags were heavy—too heavy—but she made up her mind and took the first step.
She was halfway up the stairs to the fourth floor when a familiar voice floated down toward her.
– “Tell the members not to worry. I’m doing fine.”
She froze and pressed herself against the wall instinctively.
– “I know I owe you an apology for that part too.”
It was the man next door.
She’d only heard him once before, but she remembered that voice well—deep, captivating, like it could pull you in.
– “I’m not going back. So stop looking for me.”
The tone of the conversation was serious. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but now she couldn’t unhear it.
Not going back?
So this place was a hideout for him too?
Well, it made sense.
Cheonghae wasn’t well-known, and this particular neighborhood was so remote that most people didn’t even know it was inhabited.
There wasn’t even a bus line this far out—you couldn’t get anywhere without a car.
As a desperate voice spilled through the receiver, footsteps echoed down the stairs—and stopped right in front of her.
Her heart froze along with her breath.
She nearly dropped everything in her arms.
“I’m hanging up.”
The man looked straight at her and ended the call without hesitation.
Shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave her a slanted smile.
“You really do have a talent for eavesdropping.”
He leaned against the stairwell, sipping his iced Americano.
“I—I wasn’t trying to!”
“Oh? Is that so?”
He looked her up and down, taking in her posture as she pressed flat against the wall, and let out a sharp scoff.
“Then why are you standing there like a rat?”
