Chapter 25
Im Gun-ho stood before her, his face faintly flushed, his expression oddly ambiguous. The moment Yeong-min recognized him, the place where he’d grabbed her ached.
“Hey, give me your phone.”
Without warning, Gun-ho snatched the phone straight out of Yeong-min’s grasp. He quickly tapped in a number and pressed the call button, only to hang up almost immediately, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
Just then, Hyun-ha appeared at the perfect timing and snatched the phone right out of Gun-ho’s hand. Gun-ho gasped in surprise, bewildered at being outmaneuvered in an instant.
“Stop trying to take what isn’t yours all the time. Fix that nasty habit.”
Hyun-ha tossed the words carelessly while returning the phone to Yeong-min.
“What did you just say?”
Gun-ho barked, but Hyun-ha didn’t even flinch. Instead, he shielded Yeong-min with his arm and guided her toward the back of the building. Fortunately, Gun-ho didn’t follow.
“Why am I yours?”
Once they were far enough from the commotion, Yeong-min finally opened her mouth.
“Im Gun-ho thinks you’re mine. He’s always thought that way, that’s why he bothers you.”
“It’s not like he really bothers me that much.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
Hyun-ha exaggeratedly looked her over as if to inspect for damage, then caught hold of her hand.
“Still, don’t hang around Im Gun-ho. It annoys me.”
His voice dropped ever so slightly. He wasn’t overtly threatening, nor did he leer at her—but there was something about Choi Hyun-ha at such moments that exuded an undeniable menace. It was no joke.
“Then why did you call me down earlier?”
“To eat lunch outside with me.”
He gestured toward a small glass greenhouse. Yeong-min blinked, stunned. She hadn’t even noticed it before. Inside, a wooden bench and neatly prepared lunchboxes were waiting for her.
The boxes were carefully packed: sandwiches, kimbap rolls, and slices of fresh fruit. Despite being midwinter in Seoul, the fruits were as vibrant and fresh as if just plucked.
The greenhouse itself was filled with warmth and damp air. Broad-leafed tropical plants drooped in lush shades of green. Leaves mottled with white streaks and crimson patterns gleamed in the filtered light.
Hyun-ha casually tossed a deep crimson orange slice into his mouth. Watching him, Yeong-min felt her tongue tingle with sourness. What would it taste like? She was curious, but she didn’t reach for one.
“Last night… what you said—was it just a passing comment?”
Instead of food, she asked the question that had plagued her since dawn.
‘When we graduate, I’ll get a place near the college. I don’t want to just keep freeloading off you. For now, though, I owe you and your family too much.’
Words like “debt” and “gratitude” weren’t trivial to her. When he had said them, Hyun-ha had laughed, but Yeong-min couldn’t. For her, it was a debt. If not for him, she might have been out on the streets, her house burned down, her parents gone. All she had left was the fragile lifeline of her piano skills, the one thing that had earned her a place at a prestigious university.
The lakeside greenhouse was never meant to be her permanent refuge. She knew that. Neither a confession nor a kiss, nor even childhood games could change that reality.
Without a word, Hyun-ha lowered his face toward her.
This time, it was so swift she couldn’t even think of escaping.
The scent of the scarlet orange lingered, sweet yet slightly bitter, as his lips pressed firmly against hers.
She had always thought the idea of a “first kiss tasting like something” was an exaggeration from movies. Yet the moment their lips touched, her senses exploded. She felt everything: the warmth of different lips, the soft thrill of another’s skin, the heat on the tip of his tongue, the faint sweetness of fruit clinging to his breath.
Suddenly, the bleak winter around them seemed painted in vivid colors.
Yeong-min’s fingers unconsciously brushed her lower lip, tracing the warmth. Hyun-ha’s gaze never left her, watching each tiny movement.
“What if it wasn’t just a passing comment?”
She froze, at a loss for words.
Her heart thundered violently.
“But isn’t this too strange?” she whispered to herself. Your father kidnapped me… and now you’re kissing me. And I…
Her thoughts sharpened, everything inside her chest trembling as heat flooded her face.
Hyun-ha saw it all: her confusion, her trembling, her first love rising like a crimson flame.
He reached out, just as she had done, and touched her lips. His fingers were sticky with the orange juice, clinging to the softness of her mouth.
Yeong-min quickly pulled his hand away, but their fingers tangled, the juice transferring between them.
“I told you, it was a confession. Now it’s your turn to answer. I can wait—but only until graduation.”
His grip tightened, and for an instant, she wanted to pull free.
“Don’t go. Stay with me.”
His whisper melted her resistance. The strength left her hand.
“You still have to play for me.”
There was a raw plea in his tone, not mere words of politeness. She could feel it. In Hyun-ha’s eyes burned a fierce, desperate heat.
Her lips, still tingling, parted again against his. The sticky sweetness of fruit lingered. She swallowed her realization with the taste.
Choi Hyun-ha needs me.
A shiver ran through her chest, spreading outward like a spark that could not be contained.
From the doorway, faint strains of piano leaked out, music spilling like juice from a split fruit. The sound was damp and resonant, tugging at the listener’s heart.
Min-chan, passing by, stopped in his tracks, drawn like a sailor to a siren’s call.
Inside, sunlight poured onto Baek Yeong-min as she sat at the piano. The sight stole his breath.
Her profile, lifted toward Hyun-ha, was like a painting—beautiful, luminous. Her brown eyes shone like liquid gold. She looked nothing like the dark, shadowed girl he had first met months ago.
He watched as Hyun-ha leaned close, tugged by her hand toward the piano. They exchanged playful banter, light-hearted yet startling.
Then Hyun-ha suddenly turned, his sharp gaze piercing the doorway.
Min-chan flinched and ducked aside, pressing against the wall, hand over his mouth to stifle his breathing. Even though he hadn’t been caught, a cold chill ran down his spine.
Hurrying away, he replayed the scene in his mind.
“…Ha.”
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his lips.
The worst possible scenario.
He rushed downstairs toward Joo-ran’s room.
“What did you see?”
Joo-ran, arranging her hair in the mirror, asked casually. Stray strands were tucked neatly into elegant curves.
“That girl… isn’t she supposed to leave soon? Graduation’s coming up, yet it looks like she plans to stay here forever. She won’t listen to anyone, huh?”
“Madam, it’s worse than that. I’m afraid the young master—”
He leaned in and whispered. Joo-ran’s face paled immediately.
“Hyun-ha? With that girl? At night?”
“Perhaps it’s just a fleeting interest. She’s the same age, a little pretty. Maybe he’s just curious.”
“Ridiculous! Do you know how many pretty girls he’s had around him? He’s not some foolish boy who gives his heart lightly. If he were, I wouldn’t have suffered all these years!”
Joo-ran’s voice rose with fury. Min-chan quickly gestured for her to lower her tone. Her face twisted in rage before loosening into bitter exhaustion.
“…Ugh. I’m sick of this. It’s disgusting.”
She chewed her lip, muttering darkly. Then she snapped her head up.
“And that man still hasn’t been found?”
Min-chan immediately understood she meant Yeong-min’s father.
“They’re still searching.”
“Of course. If Father thinks he’s dead, he’ll want a body, at the very least. You know his temper—he won’t let the investigation fade until there’s proof. The Commissioner is in his pocket, after all.”
The old chairman, enraged by his grandson’s kidnapping, had vowed vengeance. If he had his way, he would drag the culprit’s corpse into the open.
Joo-ran pressed her temple, sighing.
“At this rate, I’ll be the one Father kills.”
Her tone turned chilling, a whisper seeping with malice.
“We can’t let that girl be. Hyun-ha’s impossible to control. So before things get worse… we have to deal with her.”
Her eyes gleamed like sharpened blades.
“Kill her or break her. Either way.”
Her teeth ground audibly, filling the air with menace.
Outside, a warm breeze stirred the garden. The gray winter had passed, and blossoms of every color burst open across the branches.
Spring had arrived.
The sweet scent of magnolias filled the air. Yeong-min drew in a deep breath. The magnolias had fallen, and now cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Across the schoolyard, pink branches swayed gently in the wind.
