KMH – Chapter 9

Even as her breath kept catching in her throat, Seju’s body scent surged in like a tide. He felt more intrusive—more uncomfortably present—than ever. Jugyeong broke into a dry cough, hacking weakly.

“Why is this kid so bad at understanding what people say….”

Muttering as if he had a headache, Seju tightened his grip. His touch was so rough that, beyond the merciless pressure on her lower abdomen, it felt as if her insides were twisting. Cold sweat welled up, her vision blurring—

Seju slammed his body forward.

Jugyeong’s limbs rattled as if she’d been struck. She jerked her head up.

“Cheon—Seju…!”

Pinned against him, her entire body was lifted. Jugyeong stared down in a daze.

Her feet were far too far from the floor.

As if parched and irritated, Seju wore an arrogant scowl, then flicked his brows like he’d just remembered something.

“Oh. Right. I’m Seju.”

Trembling, Jugyeong grabbed his shoulder. She couldn’t push him away at all. His solid frame stood as if nailed to the ground. Glancing at the back of her hand, Seju gave a thin smile.

“Feels good to suddenly snap back to your senses, huh?”

Like hell it did—the retort surged all the way to her lips. But her drained neck kept swaying unsteadily.

“Jugyeong.”

If it weren’t for Seju, she would’ve calmed down ages ago.

“Ha Jugyeong.”

If he weren’t here, she would’ve already pulled herself together and hit the emergency call button.

“Spacing out? Answer me. Yeah?”

But because of Seju, she hadn’t collapsed.

The moment she finally admitted that, the furnace-like heat pouring off his body became bearable.

Jugyeong forced open her bleached-out vision and looked at him.

He still looked like a stranger. She gave her head a small shake, forcing open eyes that wanted to crumble.

“Inhale on one, exhale on two.”

Jugyeong nodded, her chest hitching like she had hiccups.

“You can do it, right?”

Seju asked again and again, either unconvinced by her nod or unable to see it at all.

“Huh?”

She had no strength left—so even irritation wouldn’t come. Earlier, she’d been too startled and flustered to notice, but now she understood: Seju hadn’t been driving her like that just to intimidate her.

After working her dry lips a few times, a voice that barely sounded like her own slipped out.

“…Yeah.”

Seju, who’d been alternating his gaze between her eyes, finally eased back a little.

“One.”

At the low cue, Jugyeong inhaled.

“Two.”

She exhaled urgently.

Maybe two rounds.

Seju, looking impatient, pressed her.

“Jugyeong, I’ve been speaking Korean this whole time, same as you, right?”

“…….”

“I told you to push from your gut—against my hand.”

Jugyeong was doing her best in her own way. Seju frowned, studying her, then spoke.

“One.”

Jugyeong expanded her lungs as much as she could.

“Two.”

She let it all out, forcefully.

Then she quietly met Seju’s eyes.

Only then did his face brighten.

“See? You can do it.”

Her body relaxed along with his. The tingling pain that had been buzzing through her limbs like blocked blood flow began to fade. She focused on meeting Seju’s gaze and steadying her breath.

Color was just starting to return to Jugyeong’s pale face when—

Wait.

…What is this?

For a while now, there’d been a heavy, solid presence under her grip. Sitting astride Seju’s thigh, Jugyeong looked down belatedly, realizing she’d been kneading something absentmindedly.

What filled her hands so fully, asserting itself so boldly, was—

A chest.

Someone else’s.

If she had to be specific—Seju’s.

Jugyeong didn’t have any nasty habit of fondling her own chest during bouts of shortness of breath. Honestly, that would’ve been better.

Her face drained as soon as she recovered. She swallowed hard, then carefully lifted her gaze.

Their eyes met dead-on.

“…….”

“…….”

The center of Seju’s sharply sculpted nose slowly flushed red. He turned his head aside, cleared his throat loudly, then slid a sidelong look back at her.

“Well—when someone can’t breathe and is gagging like that, they might, unintentionally….”

“…….”

“…Grab someone else’s tits and all.”

“…….”

“That’s… possible.”

Her face burned so hot she could only blink.

Then, suddenly, what lit up her mind was none other than a stress ball.

A fidget toy with a unique texture that provides a grounding effect by repeatedly gripping and releasing it to discharge excessive emotional and physical energy caused by stress.

So, basically, right now—Cheon Seju’s chest—

Jugyeong’s expression turned subtly strange.

Come to think of it, the terror of being trapped hadn’t lasted long at all. That was because Seju had pushed her through it before she could even get her bearings. Swept up like that, gasping, she’d suddenly grabbed someone else’s chest.

…Not that she’d intended to, but still.

As if entranced, Jugyeong clenched and released her hand, recalling the sensation.

Firm. Solid. Appropriately full.

…Does he work out?

If he does, he must be serious about it.

You don’t get a chest like that for free.

Without realizing it, Jugyeong narrowed her eyes slightly, studying Seju’s chest area.

It was strange. At home, she had piles of squeeze balls in every shape and design imaginable, but none of them captured her attention the way Seju’s chest did.

“I wasn’t going to take it this far, but….”

Seju spoke then, his voice sounding both flustered and tightly restrained.

“…Aren’t you staring a little too hard at someone else’s pecs?”

“…….”

“I’m feeling pretty humiliated right now.”

Jugyeong let out a short, flat “Ah.”

For someone claiming humiliation, his lightly flushed face didn’t look entirely displeased.

Tilting her head in doubt, she watched Seju immediately tense, his jaw tightening.

He flicked his eyes at her like he wanted her to move.

“You’re making me tense my abs.”

“…….”

“Get off.”

Jugyeong hesitated, then lightly tapped his shoulder. He had to pull his thigh back from between her legs for her to stand properly.

“Seju. Thank you.”

“For letting you have some eye candy?”

“…No. For helping me breathe.”

Seju stepped back after pressing the emergency call button, snorting as if to say you’re welcome.

They stood side by side, quietly staring into the darkness.

The personal silence stretched.

Unexpectedly, Seju spoke first.

“…Hey, Ha Jugyeong.”

From Seju, who’d grown into a full-fledged man, there was no trace left of the past. She’d felt that all along, starting in the parking lot.

That was why she’d never expected to hear, again, the exact same tone he used to call her name every summer vacation—kicking the tip of his shoe into the villa’s lawn.

“Being trapped… does that still scare you? Even now….”

Jugyeong was overcome by a strange mix of familiarity, confusion, and an uneasy sense of relief.

Because of that, she noticed only belatedly the low mechanical hum and faint vibration rising from the floor, climbing up her spine.

After a beat, Seju and Jugyeong turned to look at each other.

Like a lie, the lights flicked back on.

Squinting, each turned their head away—then looked back at the other.

Without thinking, Jugyeong reached out and brushed a strand of hair off Seju’s shoulder. If it hadn’t been for him, she would’ve been left alone in that endless darkness—so it wasn’t difficult at all.

Then, as if nothing were wrong, she finally spoke the reply she’d been mulling over inside.

“…Yeah. But it’s better than it used to be.”

All of it was true. Even now, on the verge of thirty, being trapped somewhere still made her feel like she might die. But she knew the fear didn’t last forever. And she knew there was no medical diagnosis called death by fright.

“You’ve got hair stuck here.”

As Jugyeong held up her palm, Seju pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his cheek. His side tensed, then he sucked in such a deep breath that his shoulders lifted—before letting it all out.

“Hey. Do I still look like some kid trailing after you everywhere?”

Seju snapped.

Jugyeong blinked, caught off guard.

When had he ever… followed behind her?

He’d picked fights, sure.

Mirroring him unconsciously, Jugyeong scrunched the skin beneath her eyes—then relaxed it.

At the same moment, they both turned to look outside as the elevator doors slid open.

“Oh—are you two alright? That must’ve been scary.”

Beside the building manager clutching his cap, a repairman stood up, toolbox in hand.

The repairs were finished.