Seongheon sighed, a sound like a low, pained groan. He wrapped his arms tightly around Yeonwoo’s waist, anchoring her to him as if she were a lifeline, exhaling a raw, vulnerable sound he had likely never uttered in his entire life.
“I shouldn’t have sent you home yesterday. I have no idea how much I regretted it.”
Unable to push him away or bring herself to return the embrace, Yeonwoo stood frozen, looking down at him.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm she was certain he could hear. There was no way he couldn’t. She didn’t want to be found out—not like this.
“Um, Managing Director. Managing Director.”
Embarrassed, she called out to him. Seongheon slowly lifted his head.
“It seems I was the only one who missed you.”
As he gazed at her, silently demanding the same admission, Yeonwoo hesitated before finally opening her mouth.
“They say that if a person suddenly changes like this, it means their time is up.”
Ah. She should have kept her mouth shut.
“Fine. Go ahead and hold a memorial service, then. Go on.”
“I’m sorry. That was just a bit… yes, I said something unnecessary.”
It was difficult to hold his gaze while he looked up at her, his arms still locked firmly around her. The intensity in his eyes was something she wasn’t prepared to handle.
She had missed him just as much, thinking of him just as often, but for some reason, the words felt impossible to voice. Standing before him, she felt like a fool, robbed of both her expression and her thoughts.
As she stood wavering, Seongheon pulled her by the arm and sat her on his lap. Caught off guard, Yeonwoo clamped her lips shut, catching her breath.
She realized then that the moment she had been looking down at him was far safer.
Now that their eyes were level, her heart pounded with an overwhelming force, as if nothing inside her would remain intact. Through the thin layer of his robe, his firm, heated body was impossible to ignore. Every detail shimmered in her peripheral vision—the damp strands of his hair, the faint scent of his shampoo, and his thighs, which felt harder and more unyielding than the chair beneath them.
Nodding like a broken doll, she glanced at him. When their eyes met directly, her brows twitched, and she quickly pulled her gaze away.
Seongheon grabbed her cheeks, forcing her face back to meet his.
“Are you nervous, or are you uncomfortable?”
*Well. Both.*
“Are you just going to sit there like a mute? You seem to have a lot of time on your hands, Ji Yeonwoo. Though, I certainly don’t mind.”
“……Ah.”
Ah. Yeonwoo suddenly remembered the main building. If she were away for too long and someone discovered her here, it would be a disaster.
“I—I have something to tell you.”
“That’s a lead-in I don’t particularly want to hear. Can I refuse?”
He had cut her off so cleanly that Yeonwoo closed her mouth.
Seongheon let out a low, deep sigh and reached for the teapot. Parched, he sipped the steaming tea. As he moved to return the cup to the tray, Yeonwoo started to rise.
“Oh, let me help you……”
Before she could move, Seongheon pulled her firmly back onto his lap and set the teacup down himself. It was a clear message: she was not to move without his permission.
“Let’s hear it. What is it you want to say?”
As he prompted her, Yeonwoo’s lips trembled. She began to organize her thoughts, but Seongheon suddenly shifted his thighs, rocking her body.
Caught off balance, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself. Seongheon, now perfectly composed, waited.
“If it’s difficult to say, then don’t. There’s no need to force it.”
“It’s nothing else; it’s just that I’m an employee here.”
“And?”
“So… if other people find out about this, it would be a bit……”
“A bit?”
“Wouldn’t they think it’s strange?”
With her arms still around his neck, she whispered from an dangerously close distance, questioning the feasibility of their secret.
Seongheon tilted his head, watching her with a curious intensity.
“I’m sorry, but that’s Ji Yeonwoo’s concern to manage.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose that’s true.”
As Yeonwoo quickly conceded, Seongheon let out a dry, amused laugh. She looked completely out of her depth, and the sight of her desperately trying to hold herself together was undeniably endearing.
*Then let’s see how long you can hold out.*
Seongheon shifted his thighs again. As she swayed, she hugged his neck even tighter, and he clamped his arms around her waist to ensure she wouldn’t slip.
“So, what is it you want from me?”
The distance closed even further.
“That… I would like it if no one knew for the time being.”
Her voice was dazed, as if her soul had temporarily detached from her body.
“What exactly do you want them not to know? You have to speak clearly.”
His hand roamed over her waist, a slow, predatory game. Yeonwoo flinched, her voice shifting into a tone she barely recognized as her own.
“That you and I are seeing each other. Our relationship.”
“A relationship? Ji Yeonwoo, we haven’t done anything, so what kind of relationship are you talking about? You have to do something for a relationship to exist.”
“Oh my……”
At her long, ragged sigh, Seongheon shook with silent laughter. He moved his hand from the nape of her neck and adjusted his thighs again, forcing her to stay put.
“A secret relationship, sure, that’s fine. I should consider Ji Yeonwoo’s situation. After all, it’s my lover’s situation.”
“Ha…… thank you……”
Since yesterday, she felt moved every time he asserted his authority over her.
“Then, will Ji Yeonwoo consider my situation as well?”
Yeonwoo couldn’t answer readily; her instincts whispered that a single wrong word could lead to chaos.
Seongheon asked again, his tone turning business-like and cold.
“Even between lovers, there must be a fair exchange. I don’t like requests made empty-handed.”
*Yes. I know, but.*
“I’ll look after Ji Yeonwoo’s situation, so you should consider mine.”
“…….”
“Answer me.”
“That is……”
“Say it loudly.”
“Uh…… yes……”
As she answered in a drained voice, Seongheon stared at her intently.
“You understand? Even though you don’t even know what my situation is.”
Ah. She should have asked what the Managing Director’s situation was. The problem was that she had skipped it, assuming she understood perfectly well.
Just as her eyes widened at the realization, Seongheon pulled her closer and tilted his head, kissing her.
It took a long time for her to surrender, to close her eyes and follow his lead.
His hand clinging to her back, his breaths growing ragged, and the heat radiating inside her mouth were all a dizzying blur. She could feel his entire presence, and it seemed as though his breath, spreading across her face, was staining the entire room.
Still kissing her, Seongheon stood up. Yeonwoo, lifted easily in his arms, was carried to the center of the bed.
He wouldn’t let go of her lips, making it impossible for her to find her own balance. Yeonwoo finally managed to pull away as she lay on the bed, her eyes fluttering open in surprise to find him looming over her.
She had lost her voice; words simply wouldn’t come. Seongheon hovered above, trapping her between his arms. The orderly atmosphere she was accustomed to was gone, replaced by the instincts of a lion at the top of the food chain, deciding the fate of a startled rabbit.
“I want to sleep with you right now.”
A thirty-five-year-old man was far more direct than she had imagined.
“I’m not in a calm enough state to be considerate of my lover’s circumstances.”
Trapped, she could only blink. Her lips, flushed and swollen, trembled.
Words failed them. They only looked at each other.
After watching her for a moment, Seongheon reached out to touch her uniform. The silence he maintained was his way of giving her one last chance to choose.
Frozen, Yeonwoo swallowed hard. Every time his hand passed over her, her resolve seemed to snap and break.
“I’m disappointed. You didn’t say a single word about missing me.”
As Seongheon muttered lowly, burying his face in the nape of her neck, Yeonwoo retorted breathlessly.
“I missed you. I missed, I missed you.”
“You didn’t even make a single phone call first.”
“That’s because I was worried you might be busy……”
“Worried I’d be busy, so you couldn’t call. That’s nice. Then, continue to be considerate of my position in the future, too.”
Just like now.
Seongheon grew increasingly bold, acting as if there was nothing to stop him. Yeonwoo, unable to resist, hugged his neck tightly.
*Can I really digest all of Seongheon’s feelings, he who is starving for a single word that I missed him?* she wondered.
What was so special about those words?
What was so special about that greeting that it could consume his entire heart?
She had no idea how far this man’s devotion went, nor where she truly stood. In the meantime, her lips were bitten and her eyes squeezed shut, over and over.
When she opened her eyes again, shaken by emotions she had never before encountered, he was looking at her with an expression she had never seen.
……I don’t know him.
And he doesn’t know me.
Yet, in this current situation, where her instincts are drawn to a stranger, what on earth is this feeling?
Lost in a terrible confusion, Yeonwoo wore a look that showed she was barely holding onto her sanity.
Swimming between dizzying thoughts and flushed sensations, she let out hot breaths through her teeth. This—this sudden, desperate surrender before they even really knew each other—what should she call it?
The more she wrestled with her thoughts, the more trivial things vanished, and at the end of her questions, one word became clear.
One word born in a moment where everything was primitive.
“You can open your eyes.”
Yes, love.
Love, which grew silently, piercing through the pile of confused, messy reality.
If it were anything else, it wouldn’t make sense. There was no other way to explain a heart that wanted to be as close as it wanted to be far.
“Breathe.”
“…….”
“Leave it to me.”
As if waiting, Yeonwoo’s breath finally burst out.
Seongheon looked down at her.