KMH – Chapter 11

After finishing dessert, they all took a walk around Cheongwoljae.

Jugyeong deliberately slowed her pace. Droplets flung up from the fountain brushed her cheeks again and again, but she didn’t mind.

At the front, beside Grandfather, Director Im and her husband linked arms; at the rear, Seju sauntered leisurely.

In late spring, blue moon wisteria was at its peak, spilling down in profusion to form an arched tunnel.

Seju traced the long, trailing flower clusters with unhurried fingers as he went. A gentle swell of pale violet rippled in his wake.

He rolled up the sleeve of his knit and, all at once, snapped off a branch near the top. At the same moment, hazel eyes slid down the forearm split by muscle lines.

A thick nape and broad shoulders; a back that flexed in clean, efficient lines with each movement; a narrow waist belying his solid frame; firm hips; legs like a racehorse’s, stretching on without end….

He seemed an entirely different species from Kwon Hyeontae—the man she’d met on the blind date just hours earlier, all sagging flesh and a jacket straining at the seams. Warmth bloomed, slow and dull, as those impressions burned themselves into her pupils.

As if he’d been inhaling the scent cupped in his palm, Seju suddenly whipped around. It was too abrupt; Jugyeong didn’t have time to look away. In an instant, their gazes tangled like vines.

“…….”

“…….”

Seju was the one to cut it off first. He turned away and moved on.

Only then did Jugyeong manage to let out the breath she’d been holding. The strength drained from the empty fist where her delicate bones stood out.

Not long after, Seju returned, slippers in hand, and drew closer.

She didn’t know why, but as she stared blankly at the veins raised on the back of his hand, it felt as though her sealed ears had suddenly opened.

The wisteria trembled softly in the breeze; water surged up from the fountain and fell with a splash….

Everything rushed in at once, the sounds around her growing louder by the second.

Stopping right in front of her, Seju snapped irritably,

“What are you standing there grinding your teeth for now?”

He dropped the slippers with a careless flick. The hand offering the blue moon he’d just broken off, though, was careful to the point of puzzling.

“…Don’t refuse.”

“…….”

“I picked it from your front yard anyway.”

Taking the blue moon awkwardly, Jugyeong knit her brows. Her heel stung—she was probably bleeding. Her Achilles throbbed with a sharp, chilling ache.

Seju suddenly bent his knee and caught her ankle.

“Ah…!”

A short cry slipped out. His broad back paused, swelling once, then falling. His voice, rough but low, urged,

“What are you doing? Take them off. Your shoes.”

Frozen by the sudden contact, Jugyeong looked down at him, fumbling.

What did you have to eat and grow up on to end up with hands that burned like this?

It felt like her ankle might scorch. Heat flared uselessly behind her eyes. Unlike at the table, Seju’s grip was loose as he slipped the shoe off, as if waiting for her reply.

Blood rushed back into the foot that had been pressed and trapped. Just that was enough to take her breath. It felt close to liberation. Jugyeong let out a thin, trembling exhale.

“Jesus, you’re not some damn zealot….”

As the stiffness drained from her shoulders and they finally relaxed, Seju screwed up his face and lifted his head.

“Ruined a perfectly good thing, fuck.”

His tone bristled with irritation—like he was scolding her for holding out until she bled. In contrast, the gaze that raked over the scraped skin on her ankle was hesitant, as though lost.

…Which one is real?

The attentiveness that noticed her listless eating and changed the menu to suit her tastes? Or the recklessness that, out of nowhere, told her not to ignore people and forced her into a corner?

“This looks like it’s gonna scar and last forever.”

Jugyeong felt oddly embarrassed.

The way he talked as if he were the one injured; the way he couldn’t tear his eyes from her ankle over something so trivial.

Along with that came a clear easing of the irritation and discomfort she’d felt because of him earlier.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jugyeong lightly took his shoulder and let go.

“It’s awkward staring down at you. Get up, Seju.”

That mountain-sized body surged upright in a single motion. Startled by the charge of it, Jugyeong forced herself to speak calmly.

“…Thanks. For earlier, too. In the elevator.”

As she spoke, Jugyeong clenched and unclenched her fist. The hard shoulder bone that had filled her palm so tightly was… memorable.

His chest was firm, too.

Someone who’d always bought stress balls more for their design than their practicality, Jugyeong found herself scanning him from head to toe without thinking. Even at a glance, it was a beautiful body.

Tall, clean-lined, long where it should be long….

What would it be like with everything stripped away?

“Did I come back just to change your shoes?”

Unaware she’d harbored such a thought, Jugyeong liked how naturally her voice came out. The focus in Seju’s eyes, which had been a little unfixed, sharpened.

“So you’re really back in Korea for good?”

“…….”

After a brief pause, he shot back,

“What?”

It didn’t sound accusatory—more like he genuinely hadn’t heard.

“I was wondering if you’ll be staying in Korea like the Director, from now on.”

Seju frowned right eyebrow. Then left. Scrutinizing her face closely before huffing a hollow laugh.

“Guess kneeling to change shoes earns this much interest.”

Thinking about it, from his perspective, it probably was absurd. She’d been curious for a while now but hadn’t had the chance to ask. Or the leeway.

Jugyeong smiled in a way that mirrored his, as if hiding her awkwardness. Seju’s face, which had been faintly set, warmed with color.

“Honestly… I was really surprised earlier. When I ran into you in the parking lot.”

Cutting her off, he suddenly grabbed and flapped his knit hem.

“Fuck, is it hot….”

A half-beat later, he added,

“Ah—the parking lot. No, you looked ready to bite someone’s head off.”

Was it getting hotter? Maybe it was. Late May meant summer was close. Jugyeong nodded, releasing the tender flesh she’d been biting inside her mouth. Her hand on his shoulder tingled.

“I see. You must’ve had business nearby, too.”

“But didn’t you say you’d set up a house?”

“…Not a house, just living alone.

Seju, still tugging restlessly at his knit, suddenly lifted his brows.

“I’m about to get really sensitive, so don’t nitpick every word I say.”

At the random warning, Jugyeong let out a snort of a laugh and lowered her gaze.

His feet are huge….

Her slippers looked like children’s shoes by comparison.

Her expression shifted subtly.

…Is everything about him big?

Glancing at Seju’s hand back, wrapping one forearm, she spoke.

“I’ve been living on my own for a while. It’s too far to commute from my grandfather’s place to the office.”

“How far is ‘too far’?”

“Um….”

It wasn’t a difficult question. Yet she stalled, staring intently at the hem of his pants. As her mind sketched the calves and thighs hidden beneath the fabric, her stomach tightened, faintly.

Immediately after, she thought calmly:

‘I must really be losing it from lack of sleep lately…. ‘

The way she kept getting curious about Seju’s naked body.

Here. At Cheongwoljae.

Practically asking to be struck by lightning.

She knew all that—and still couldn’t let it go.

Just then, Seju—who had been maintaining a restless silence, frowning then relaxing, rubbing his earlobe, running a hand through his hair, and kneading the nape of his neck—finally spoke.

“Hey, Ha Jugyeong. I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you keep looking me up and down?”

Her eyes, which had been rolling all over his body, stilled. For a moment, she felt as if she’d been stripped bare.

Her face burned, but it was fine. She just hadn’t realized it was obvious enough for Seju to notice. Rubbing her hot nape, Jugyeong slowly met his gaze.

“…Was it that obvious?”

“You’re practically licking me with your eyes till I can’t breathe—how would I not notice…?”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, ah, shit….”

So he caught her.

That she’d been peeping from the moment he changed her shoes.

She hadn’t known Seju was aware of her gaze at all—he hadn’t shown it. Since she’d already been caught, trying to smooth it over with lies would only make it more ridiculous. Jugyeong confessed honestly.

“Guess that’d feel uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to.”

“Just… well. Moderately.”

For something ‘moderately uncomfortable,’ he didn’t look all that bothered.

“Anyway, must’ve been surprised—a guy I thought lived alone was suddenly eating at Grandfather’s.”

Jugyeong tossed the comment out without much thought and glanced around.

Grandfather disappearing around a garden corner; Cheongwoljae where every season came and went gently; the tops of her feet freed from the sling-back heels that had pressed into her skin; the fountain’s shadow cutting across Seju’s feet and her own.

As she took it all in, a voice, sunk deep and heavy, dropped onto her crown.

“…You.”

“…….”

“Did you know?”

“…….”

“That I’d be here.”

Jugyeong frowned and looked up. Somewhere, a lukewarm breeze passed through. The strands of her hair that had fluttered low behind her settled slowly. His prominent Adam’s apple rose and fell at the same pace.

In that moment, Jugyeong realized—

She’d been wanting to know ever since she’d accidentally grabbed his chest in the elevator.

If touching Seju again, if being crushed beneath that massive body one more time, might make her head feel lighter… she’d harbored that reckless hope.

Lately, Jugyeong often thought of her father. She thought of her mother, who couldn’t smile the way she used to after her failed marriage. And Jugyeong didn’t want to be like that.

“…….”

“…….”

In the past, she would’ve thought first about the consequences—about what words and actions would bring in their wake. If you couldn’t clean up after it, you shouldn’t do it. Responsibility. Adulthood. That’s what those meant.

Maybe it was because too many unexpected things had happened in a single day. Or because the bridge of Seju’s nose had grown visibly red….

Her calculations failed.

All she felt was laughter bubbling up. The instant she heard his question, she wanted to go crazy and blurt it out.

The vast grounds of Cheongwoljae felt like a roadside rockfall barrier. The fountain’s shadow dividing her feet from Seju’s looked like a sign that read Caution: Falling.

She couldn’t see why she shouldn’t cross that line.

Grandfather was already out of sight.

Driven by impulse, Jugyeong turned her head toward the breeze. She swept her hair back, bit her nail, then let it go.

At last, Jugyeong looked Seju straight in the eye.

And said,

“Seju.”

“…….”

“Sleep with me?”