DH ✦ Ch 7

✦ Chapter 7 ✦

❦

The main house of the villa had an open structure, with the living room and kitchen seamlessly connected.

Gayoung quietly opened the front door and stepped inside. Fortunately, the man was nowhere to be seen.

She tiptoed to the sink. As she boiled the broth, cooked the noodles, and set the side dishes on the table, she took great care not to make any noise.

She placed the cooked noodles into a bowl and added the garnish. After setting the bowl on the table, she turned back toward the pot where the broth was boiling.

The broth still looked pale. She was anxious. Come on, hurry up. Please, just hurry…

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her desperate wish went unanswered.

Gayoung’s heart began to pound wildly. She glanced sideways and saw Hyun-jae standing at the top of the stairs that led down from the second floor, watching her.

He was dressed comfortably in a white shirt and loose, dark gray shorts. But maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. It was as if she had X-ray vision—his impressive physique burned itself into her mind.

She quickly turned her head back around.

“I asked what you were doing.”

His dry voice came from behind her. Gayoung responded in a timid, almost whispering tone.

“I heard you were supposed to have janchi-guksu… That’s what I was told.”

She grabbed a dish towel with both hands. The broth hadn’t fully developed its flavor yet, but it should be edible enough. She planned to pour it into the bowl and flee.

“You don’t have to. I’m not hungry.”

“I’ve already finished.”

Gayoung grabbed the pot handle with the dish towel.

“I’ll clean it up. I’ll just have some coffee…”

“Ah!”

A major accident happened.

She hadn’t realized Hyunjae had come closer. When she turned toward the table with the bowl, the pot hit his abdomen. Startled, she lost her grip.

When she looked down with wide eyes, the scene was disastrous.

The heavy stainless-steel pot didn’t tip over but dropped straight down. About half the boiling broth splashed out—right onto Hyun-jae’s foot.

Some broth splashed onto Gayoung’s foot as well, but she was wearing socks and slippers, so it was bearable. Hyun-jae had slippers on too—but they were open-toe flip-flops.

“O-oh no…”

Gayoung bent down to remove the pot, but Hyun-jae reached out and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. If he hadn’t, she might have grabbed the hot pot with her bare hands—she was that out of it.

Hyunjae, on the other hand, remained composed, even with the scalding pot on his foot.

“Back off.”

“I have to move the pot—”

“I’ll do it. Stay still.”

His command, stripped of formal speech, froze her in place.

Hyunjae slid his foot out from under the pot. His entire foot was red and swollen. Some of the skin on the top had peeled away, stuck to the bottom of the pot.

It was, quite literally, a disaster.

Once the mess on the floor was cleaned up, Gayoung crouched on the living room floor.

His scalded foot was propped up on a stool in front of her. Despite the injury, Hyunjae sat back on the sofa with a blank expression.

The situation was so dire that even her fear of him was gone. She felt too guilty to even lift her head.

Gayoung carefully and thoroughly applied burn ointment to the injured foot.

As she rubbed it in with her fingertips, Hyunjae said nothing. He should have twitched from the pain or flinched at the tickling sensation—but there was no reaction at all. He just rested his gaze on the side of her face.

His stare made her stomach twist, but Gayoung kept her focus on the treatment.

When she applied antibiotic ointment to the open wound, she winced in sympathy at what must’ve been a sharp pain.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

The man answered as if he didn’t even feel it. As she was covering the wound with gauze, he finally spoke again.

“What’s your name?”

“Yoon Gayoung.”

“That’s not the same last name as the caretaker I remember.”

She had said she was the caretaker’s niece, but her surname was different from her uncle Kim Bong-man’s. It was a point of suspicion, but she found it too complicated to explain, so she stayed quiet. Hyun-jae didn’t press and instead changed the subject.

“Why are you here alone, Ms. Yoon?”

“Their close friend passed away. They’re tied up at the funeral until the burial tomorrow, so I came to help out.”

“Did you clean the house?”

“Yes.”

Gayoung wrapped the bandage around his ankle. Even his foot was large, so it took a while to finish.

This time, she broke the silence.

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?”

“For causing your injury. I don’t know how I could ever apologize enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I snuck up on you. That’s on me.”

“Still…”

“Treating the wound like this is enough. Let’s just say we were both at fault.”

There was no hint of pretense in his tone. His lack of blame, even after suffering a burn, only made her feel worse.

As she focused on wrapping the bandage, Gayoung spoke with difficulty.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Her words came from a place of overwhelming guilt. Hyunjae chuckled, a bit cynically.

“You’re still not using a subject.”

“For saving me… I meant that.”

“Do you understand how big of a deal that is?”

It was a moment of gratitude… and embarrassment. She had lost consciousness, and judging by the situation, he had likely come into close physical contact with her to administer first aid.

“I understand.”

She kept her head down, hiding her tearful expression, as she tied the end of the bandage. After finishing, she didn’t know what to do next, which only made her more flustered.

Watching her, Hyunjae asked in a light tone, almost jokingly:

“So how are you going to repay me for saving your life?”

He was generous, but he seemed to keep score. The question about her life debt left Gayoung feeling cornered.

“H-how should I repay you?”

“Let’s see…”

Hyunjae lowered his foot from the stool. Gayoung’s eyes followed the bandaged foot. Her gaze traveled slowly up his body.

When their eyes finally met, tension clenched her heart.

“What would be good…”

His dark, intense eyes penetrated hers.

They weren’t the same calm eyes from earlier. His long, slanted eyes seemed to demand something. She didn’t know what, but her naive mind interpreted it as seduction.

Her breath caught. She restarted it by swallowing.

“I’ll finish the noodles for you.”

She stood to leave, but he caught her sleeve.

“No need.”

The slight pull made her sit right back down beside him. It wasn’t so much that he pulled her—it was that her legs had gone weak.

Hyunjae’s intrigued gaze slowly traced her stiffened face.

“I want something other than noodles…”

His eyes settled on her red lips.

“Will you give it to me?”

His question was free of any hint of amusement. His intense gaze fixed on her trembling lips, like a predator eyeing its prey.

Gayoung’s mind felt blank.

She didn’t know whether she liked or disliked this. She had no will to pull him in or push him away. She was simply overwhelmed by this formidable man in front of her.

Hyunjae leaned in slowly. His words were polite, but the act was not.

“If you don’t want to, say so.”

Polite? That word didn’t belong here, not with this kind of audacity.

“I won’t force you.”

His whisper tickled her lips.

His breath smelled nice. If it had a color, it would be dark blue. That scent, like a hallucination, made her eyelids droop.

It was unconscious submission.

Hyunjae didn’t rush. He gently covered her lips with his and began to kiss her softly.

He tilted his head and slowly took in her lips, bit by bit.

Gayoung quietly complied. Even when his tongue slipped past her relaxed lips, she didn’t resist.

It was an unexpectedly tender invasion.

Even as their breaths mixed and his tongue brushed along her soft inner skin, he never lost his gentle touch. When his tongue coaxed her shy one to come forward, he waited patiently.

The feeling was so sweet, her fear began to seem ridiculous.

But when her tense tongue finally gave way and was caught by his, a sharp pleasure shot through her heart, making her shudder.

It was Yoon Gayoung’s first kiss at twenty-two.

She had turned down countless boys in high school without interest—even curiosity—in kissing. Now, she had just given her lips to a man she had only met today.

It felt like a pitifully easy surrender, but if this was the price of a saved life, then it wasn’t cheap tribute.

Her slender nape was cupped in Hyunjae’s palm.

At first, his touch was gentle. But then he tightened his grip, locking her head in place, and the kiss grew deeper and more intense.

He sucked at her soft flesh, her breath, even her saliva.

It was strange. This unfamiliar sensation was terrifying—but it felt good. So good that she wouldn’t have minded if it went on forever.

She was out of breath. Her body flushed with heat. A strange sound trembled from her throat.

Hyunjae finally pulled away.

Gayoung gasped for air with her eyes downcast. He, meanwhile, seemed perfectly calm—as if she had been the only one affected.

He reached out with a dampened thumb and rubbed her bottom lip, now even redder.

The touch was suggestive enough to make her eyes flutter shut.

Then he leaned in again and whispered in a low, husky voice.

“Wanna sleep with me?”