Chapter 6
Yeon-haâs cheeks flushed bright red â as if she had just been asked âWanna come in for a bowl of ramen?â
By nature, Ji-an was cold and distant toward others. That detached manner extended to Yeon-ha as well, and she had never once crossed the invisible line he had drawn between them.
That was why she couldnât understand why he suddenly told her, âIf youâve missed the last bus, just come to my place.â
Just a little while ago, he had said with absolute certainty that he didnât like her â so how could she simply follow him home now as if nothing had changed?
âIs it because I said I donât like him anymore? So he feels safe now?â
But no, it didnât feel like mere kindness.
Whether it was the alcohol or Ji-anâs sudden suggestion, Yeon-haâs heart thudded uncontrollably in her chest as she waved her hands firmly.
âNo! I could never! How could I possibly stay at your place,â
Ji-anâs lips curved upward in amusement.
âYour body and heart both seem eager to go, though.â
Yeon-ha couldnât refute that.
After all, she had barely slept the night before, spent the morning working part-time, finished their group project in the afternoon, then rushed off to teach two tutoring sessions before showing up for the team dinner.
Her body, running purely on willpower and caffeine, wanted nothing more than to sink into a soft bed â not another sleepless night in the campus library.
And her heart, still tethered to Ji-an, longed to follow him despite her better judgment.
Ji-an leaned back casually.
âAlright then, since your body and heart have already decided, letâs try convincing your reason. Youâve got three choices, Park Yeon-ha.
One, walk thirty minutes to the library and spend the night there.
Two, pay for a taxi with both late-night and regional surcharges.
Three, stay for free at your handsome seniorâs place â you can even take a shower.
So, which one?â
There was only one sensible answer, and Yeon-ha wasnât stupid.
Caught between nervous excitement and a sense of foreboding, she bit her lip, raised her hand, and extended three fingers.
Ji-an smiled.
âSmart girl, Park Yeon-ha.â
That dazzling smile lasted only a heartbeat before he turned and started walking toward his apartment. Yeon-ha followed quietly, her steps small and uncertain.
* * *
Ji-anâs apartment was on the top floor of an upscale officetel building â far more spacious than Yeon-ha had expected.
The high ceiling gave it a luxurious feel. The upper loft was a private library, while the lower floor held two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and bath.
He led her into a simple room furnished only with a bed and a wardrobe, then went to his own room and returned with a plain white T-shirt and a pair of shorts.
âHere. Wear these to sleep.â
âOhâ thank you for even lending me clothes.â
The clothes smelled faintly of the same soft fabric-softener scent that always lingered on him. As Yeon-ha hugged the clothes against her chest, Ji-an, unprompted, answered the question she hadnât asked.
âItâs the room my younger sibling uses sometimes.â
âAh, I see.â
So thatâs why there was an extra bed in a single manâs place.
âHe has a sibling. A sister maybe? The bedding doesnât really give it away…â
She looked around idly, then asked, half-curious, half-teasing,
”is your family rich?â
âYeah.â
He didnât even bother to deny it.
Yeon-haâs lips parted, then closed again. The honesty made him seem even more distant â like someone she could never have.
âAnother reason to give up on him,â she thought bitterly.
Ji-an turned to leave, telling her she could shower and sleep since it was just his siblingâs room. But Yeon-ha stopped him, hugging the borrowed clothes tighter.
âWhat if I sneak into your room at night and⊠you know, pounce on you? Still gonna let me stay?â
Her tone was half-playful, but Ji-an merely smirked, tilting his head slightly as his gaze met hers.
âDo you really think Iâd be the one pinned under you? Considering the size and strength difference?â
Yeon-ha glanced up. He was at least a head taller, with broad shoulders and a body honed from regular workouts. One push from him and sheâd be helpless.
âIf I ever end up beneath you, Park Yeon-ha⊠itâll be because I let it happen. Not because you wanted it.â
âSo wake up from that dream.â
Then, with a small smile, he reached out and pressed his finger gently between her furrowed brows to smooth the wrinkle there â and walked out before she could answer.
Left alone, Yeon-ha pouted, hugging the clothes even tighter.
âHe really doesnât see me as a woman at all, does he?â
No wonder he could invite her over so easily in the middle of the night.
Sheâd been planning to give up anyway, yet somehow the thought still stung.
* * *
The bathroom was unexpectedly large for a single manâs apartment â spotless, and it smelled nice.
When she spotted the same shampoo and body wash scent that clung to him, her cheeks flamed.
âIf I use this, will I smell like him too?â
Heat flooded her face, her pulse quickening uncontrollably.
She shook her head violently, then stepped into the wide tub and turned on the cold water.
Anything to chase away the lingering intoxication â and the sinful thoughts creeping in with it.
* * *
The next morning, Ji-an woke earlier than usual.
All night, he had regretted his impulsive decision to invite her over.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Yeon-ha had knocked lightly on his door. Without waiting for permission, she cracked it open just enough to peek her head in.
He had been sitting against the headboard, tablet in hand.
âSleep well,â sheâd said softly before disappearing back into her room.
Her hair had still been damp, clinging to her shoulders beneath the oversized white shirt. Her cheeks were flushed â maybe from the shower, maybe from the leftover alcohol â and her lips had looked soft, faintly glistening.
Something stirred deep inside him, heat blooming where it shouldnât.
He had escaped into the bathroom to cool down, only to be met with thick steam and that familiar scent â except now it wasnât just his scent. It was mixed, somehow changed.
He exhaled heavily.
âHaâŠâ
When he looked down, his body betrayed him â rigid, uncomfortably so.
How could he react like this⊠to her?
It infuriated him. That innocent girl whoâd once chased after him like a puppy â and now his body had the audacity to respond to her?
Even worse, the faint sound of movement from her room had been enough to set him off again.
Iâm not this easy. Iâm not.
He had spent the rest of the night in self-disgust, neither working nor sleeping, simply staring at the ceiling until dawn.
Now, with a throbbing head, he went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water â and noticed a small note left on the counter.
[Thank you for the free lodging, senior! Youâll be blessed for this âĄ
I didnât know what to do with the clothes, so I left them neatly folded.
If you want them washed, bring them to me â Iâll return them clean!]
The handwriting was neat and tidy, just like her.
Ji-an opened the door to the guest room. The bed was perfectly made, not a wrinkle in sight. On top of it lay the clothes sheâd worn, carefully folded.
She was gone. At six in the morning.
He looked back down at the note, lips twitching faintly.
[P.S.
You really shouldnât invite strange women home so easily.
Youâre lucky it was me â or you mightâve regretted it.]
Whoâs the one doing the tolerating here?
Ji-an reread the words, then crumpled the note in his hand.
The faint scent that lingered in the room â his and hers, mingled together â seemed to mock him.
He picked up the white T-shirt she had worn, intending to toss it into the laundry room, but stopped midway.
He felt himself harden again â unreasonably, annoyingly.
With a low curse, he sat down on the edge of the bed.
The shirt smelled stronger here â her scent mixed with his, faint yet unmistakable.
He pressed the fabric to his face, eyes shutting against the wave of imagery it brought: Yeon-ha, hair damp, skin glistening, cheeks flushed.
A tremor ran through him.
The guilt came swiftly after â guilt and self-loathing for letting his mind wander there, to a girl who had once looked up to him like a star.
His breath came faster.
Finally, Ji-an exhaled sharply and wiped his hand with the shirt before tossing it aside â the white cotton now wrinkled in his fist.