Chapter 22
“Strike While the Iron Is Hot”
Was he saying he’d go watch a movie with me just because I said I liked them?
When Yeon tried to gauge Dohyun’s intentions, he, looking embarrassed, kept staring only at a trash can in the corner.
It was actually easier when he didn’t look this way because right now, his face was probably bright red like a radish.
“I’d love that.
When should we go?”
Yeon asked, half-expectant, half-nervous.
Where was the nearest theatre?
Which showtime should she book?
She needed to check her schedule.
Humming in her head, she grabbed a notepad and pen.
Finally, Dohyun shifted his gaze away from the corner and onto her.
“Strike while the iron’s hot.”
He meant today.
Shouldn’t he at least ask if she had other plans first?
Or did he assume she didn’t?
“Can’t we… take our time pulling that iron horn out?”
Yeon needed some prep time.
She couldn’t do much about her face, but at least she wanted to dress better.
What should I wear?
If she’d known this would happen, she would’ve gone shopping beforehand.
What clothes did she even have at home?
But no he wanted to strike while the iron was hot.
“Why?
You don’t want to pull it out right away?”
She glanced down at the ill-fitting suit she was wearing.
Even her wig seemed dry and lifeless today.
“No, no.
Of course, striking while it’s hot is the best!”
Yeon forced a laugh, suddenly realising how silly her concerns sounded.
She was doing this disguise thing on purpose.
Since when had she cared about clothes? Dohyun probably didn’t care either.
“Vice President, was there a movie you especially wanted to see?”
Her eyes sparkled.
She hoped he’d say that one.
After a pause, Dohyun looked at her and let out a low chuckle.
“Any movie you want to watch?”
“I like them all!”
Her eyes gleamed.
Dohyun’s lips curled into a wide smile, almost boyishly excited.
“Maybe a horror film?
Any new ones out?”
Lee Yeon’s brow twitched.
Horror was the one genre she hated.
“Probably not.”
No horror.
Please.
“What about a mystery, then?”
Yeonn blinked.
Mystery?
Doomed.
“There was that new sci-fi release, wasn’t there?”
“Yes!
I know the title!
I’ll book that one!
And for dinner may I choose?”
“Do whatever you want.”
Leaving his office, Lee Yeon nearly skipped back to her desk, happily scrolling through her phone to make a reservation.
Monday passed quickly than usual.
It was summer, and daylight still lingered.
After work, Dohyun and Lee Yeon headed to dinner.
“This is the menu you wanted, right?”
With tongs in one hand and a big bowl in the other, Dohyun leaned close to her.
“Yes, malatang!
This place is famous you’ll love it.”
Lee Yeon used the tongs eagerly, piling in bean sprouts, glass noodles, and cabbage enough for an army.
Watching her, Dohyun thought, That looks like way too much.
But she kept going, unfazed.
“Vice President, you should pick what you want to.
Want me to add things for you?”
When he hesitated, she snatched his bowl and started choosing carefully.
She examined every ingredient, picking only the freshest, stacking his bowl with more thought than her own.
Dohyun couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Why is she being so careful about this?
When she picked up the final ingredient, tofu skin, his lips twitched.
That serious expression over something so small… why did it look cute?
“All done!
Put it on the scale over there.”
A strange warmth filled his chest.
“And one order of sweet-and-sour pork, please.”
Not enough with just meat she added another dish confidently.
“How about creamy shrimp too?”
He wanted to order everything she might like.
He’d eat until his stomach burst if it made her happy.
“I’m not a pig, you know.”
So that’s how it is.
Dohyun carried the trays back after confirming the weight on the display.
“Malatang without sweet-and-sour pork just isn’t right.
This looks great.”
“Bon appétit!”
With a bright declaration, Lee Yeon dug in, lifting bok choy and slurping soup eagerly.
She really meant it she ate with such genuine delight.
Her small mouth moved constantly, nibbling without pause.
Dohyun’s gaze lingered on her lips reddened from the spicy broth.
Normally, she wore no lipstick, but now… they looked fuller, softer than he’d realised.
He shook himself.
Focus.
Just eat.
“Movie time.
We need to head up now!”
Full and satisfied, they went upstairs to the theatre.
“This movie’s ranked number one right now.
Must be amazing!”
She looked cheerful, stomach and spirit both full.
And for some reason, seeing her happy made his own mood rise.
“Are you a popcorn person?”
“What?”
He’d been thinking coffee would be enough.
“Popcorn or nachos?
Or dried squid?”
“…And ‘no snack’ isn’t an option?”
“Of course not.
Snacks are half the reason you come!
Personally, I’m more of a nacho person.”
So nachos it was.
Armed with two iced Americanos and one nacho tray, they found their seats.
Lee Yeon sat beside him, pulse quickening.
The seats felt closer than expected.
How am I supposed to focus on the movie?
She sighed softly.
Does he notice me too?
But Dohyun reclined easily, looking relaxed enough to nap.
To distract herself, she focused on the nachos.
“Vice President, let me hold those for you.”
“No, I’ve got it.
Just eat.”
She reached again, but he refused.
Fine.
She’d just eat from his hand.
Carefully, she dipped a nacho into cheese and nibbled.
Then, as the movie began, she reached absentmindedly again.
And missed.
Her finger plunged straight into the cheese.
Oh no.
She pulled it back, dripping with sauce.
She couldn’t wipe it loudly.
Best solution?
Use another nacho to scoop it up.
But again, she missed.
Instead, her hand pressed onto something soft.
Wait.
Squid?
Did they order squid?
Her gaze followed her hand.
She was smearing cheese all over Dohyun’s palm.
Frozen, she realised his hand was now sticky too.
At that moment, his face leaned close, lips brushing her ear.
“…Move your hand.”
His whisper and warm breath made her flinch.
The faint woodsy cologne she often noticed now filled her senses, sinking right to her chest.
Not now.
Focus!
“Sorry, Vice President.
Let me wipe it for you.”
She ripped open a wet wipe and, without thinking, held his wrist and gently cleaned his hand.
His hand was rough, solid, unmistakably masculine.
Warm, too.
Definitely not cold-handed…
She found herself studying his palm, tracing every line as though analysing it.
Her fingertips tingled.
The movie sounds faded into a dull hum.
When she flipped his hand to wipe the inside, his fingers curled reflexively, brushing against hers.
Still silent, he let her continue.
She glanced up, expecting him to be focused on the movie.
But no he was watching her intently.
Too long… I’ve been wiping too long.
A
nd then suddenly.
He closed his hand around hers.
Before she could react, he guided her hand aside.
“There’s nothing on the palm.”
He was right.
She’d been wiping a spotless spot the whole time.
Why didn’t he say so earlier instead of just watching?
Maybe he wasn’t watching maybe he was staring.
She felt utterly foolish.
