Chapter 7.3

“Are you still not going to tell me?”  

“There’s… nothing to tell, ah—huh.”  

“Relax your neck and breathe. Then why are your eyes red?”  

“…I don’t know. It hurts.”  

When Su-eon groaned, Seung-jo loosened his grip slightly.  

“It’s not because I didn’t let you sleep, is it?”  

“…Maybe it’s a little bit your fault, Senior.”  

“You accepted it so readily, though.”  

Seung-jo chuckled softly and began rubbing the area where her neck and shoulders connected, his fingertips moving gently. As he adjusted the pressure, the stiff muscles in her shoulders gradually began to relax.  

“What have you been doing to be this stiff? Even a rock would be softer than this.”  

“Ah… that spot hurts.”  

“Bear with it. It’s loosening up.”  

At his unrelenting words, Su-eon let out a groan and flinched. Seung-jo pressed mercilessly into the rock-hard knots in her muscles. Despite the pain, the release felt oddly satisfying, and Su-eon endured it with a mix of groans and sighs.  

“Don’t live with so much tension in your shoulders. You don’t have to push yourself so hard like it’s life or death.”  

His casual remark made her body tense up again. Clicking his tongue, Seung-jo pressed down on her shoulders, which had risen high in tension.  

“Making a few mistakes won’t make the world collapse.”  

“…Is that your life advice, Senior?”  

“It’s a concern for you.”  

“…”  

“If you’re too rigid, you’ll eventually break.”  

As if her nerves had been freed, a tingling sensation spread to the tips of Su-eon’s fingers. Perhaps because her eyes were closed, her other senses felt sharper. Seung-jo’s low voice seemed to linger in her ears.  

Was he talking about himself when he mentioned breaking, or was it someone else’s story?  

“…Is that from experience?”  

“Well, what do you think?”  

“I’m not sure.”  

Su-eon removed the handkerchief and lifted her head. Quietly, she looked up at Seung-jo.  

“What I do know is that even if the world you live in doesn’t collapse, the world I live in could.”  

“Then you just start again from there.”  

“…”  

“Destruction isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, it can be the best thing.”  

At his seemingly playful words, Su-eon responded with a slightly unimpressed look.  

“Is that the next-generation management strategy of K.U. Group?”  

“It’s advice for the Princess’s joint health.”  

Seung-jo flicked Su-eon’s forehead lightly with his fingertip as he spoke.  

“If you keep living like that, you’ll end up with a slipped disc.”  

“…”  

His words, which were more like a curse than advice, came with a smile. How ridiculous, Su-eon thought, pouting her lips with a soft scoff.  

Seung-jo grabbed her chin, lifting it gently. His fingers massaged the area around her eyes, drawing small circles. His touch was cool and firm as it brushed against her skin.  

“Now it looks a bit better. Earlier, you looked like a red penguin.”  

Leaning down slightly, Seung-jo peered closely at her face as he spoke.  

Su-eon frowned. A penguin? Was he referring to the clumsy bird with a short neck, thick legs, and a waddling gait? The same person who once called her a princess was now comparing her to that?  

Su-eon pushed his hand away.  

“That’s enough. Thank you.”  

Her tone was curt as she straightened her posture. A low chuckle brushed past her ears as Seung-jo placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward. His lips pressed softly against hers with a light kiss before pulling away.  

“…”  

Their gazes met—hers looking upward, his looking downward. Frozen in place, caught by his gaze, Su-eon felt his breath brush her chin as his lips met hers once again.  

“…”  

She forgot to even swallow her breath, blinking once in slow motion. Her lips, lightly bitten, felt warm. Seung-jo released her, straightening her body. As he held her shoulders and gently turned her, their lips met again.  

Su-eon’s thin eyelids quivered faintly. Supporting himself with one hand against a pillar, Seung-jo cradled the back of her neck and parted her lips with his own. His tongue slipped inside, brushing against hers, exploring every corner, while softly tasting the faint sweetness of her saliva.  

As Seung-jo’s hand lowered slightly, touching the floor, Su-eon’s body fell softly onto the wooden floor of the veranda. Trapping her body within his arms, he gazed down at her. Her eyes, swollen from the kiss, her flushed cheeks, and her lips—everything about her was red, like the zinnias blooming below the stone wall.  

He pulled over the jacket he had tossed aside earlier, spreading it beneath her body. Su-eon blinked as she looked up at him, her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders.  

“Senior…?”  

“Just a little.”  

“Se…”  

Unbuttoning her shirt, Seung-jo kissed her cheeks and lips. As her shirt slid off her shoulders, his lips pressed against every inch of skin that was revealed. Overwhelmed by the warmth of his breath cascading over her, Su-eon felt her mind slipping away.  

The wind passed gently, rustling the trees. Fresh green leaves and chirping insects created a quiet harmony under the moonlight.  

Every time her consciousness faded and returned, Seung-jo’s lips, which lingered somewhere on her body, had moved to another place. By the time the moon had risen high above the zinnias, Seung-jo lifted his face from between her legs.  

Wiping his glistening lips with his hand, he straightened his posture and brushed back his disheveled hair. Lying beneath him, Su-eon blinked her dazed, unfocused eyes, looking up at him. The predatory gleam in Seung-jo’s eyes, dark and intense, reminded her of a raptor slicing through the sky with its sharp gaze, drunk on desire as he looked down at her.

The area between Su-eon’s legs, where he had just been moments ago, throbbed faintly, prompting her to draw her knees together slightly. Seung-jo’s languid gaze fell on her. His eyes lingered on the glistening, damp peak, and after a moment, he loosened his tie and removed his wristwatch.  

Thud.  

A heavy sound resonated by Su-eon’s head. As the arms wrapped around her back pulled her shoulders tightly into an embrace, Seung-jo entered her deeply. Su-eon gasped under him, feeling as though she were being drawn into the vastness of his body.  

Their heated skin rubbed against each other endlessly, and even the cool wooden floor beneath her back felt warm from the shared heat. Listening to the sound of their pounding hearts, which seemed ready to burst, Su-eon wrapped her arms around Seung-jo’s neck. It felt like she was embracing molten lava with her entire body.  

“Senior, Senior… ah…”  

The soft glow of the night sky shimmered like gentle waves. Su-eon, who had been following the pale light spreading faintly between the pillars, closed her eyes. She felt dizzy from the vibrating scent of fresh grass.  

The lantern hanging beneath the eaves cast a subtle glow, illuminating the two as they exchanged heated breaths.  

In a half-asleep state, Su-eon opened her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she’d fallen into a light doze, but the flow of time felt uncertain. Looking up at the eaves, she noticed that the edge of the moonlight reflecting on the smooth wooden floor had curved slightly more than before.  

“You’re awake?”  

A low voice resonated from above her head. The arms that had been wrapped around her from behind slid up to her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace. The sound of Seung-jo’s shirt rustling reached her ears.  

“You fall asleep every time we do it. So cute.”  

His murmured words, as if he found it fascinating, were followed by his lips pressing into the nape of her neck. A ticklish sensation made Su-eon shrink her neck slightly.  

“You, Senior… are you always like this…?”  

Su-eon opened her mouth absentmindedly but stopped mid-sentence. Her hazy consciousness was slowly returning.  

The most pointless and hopeless conversation between a man and a woman was about past relationships. Asking if he was always this bold would inevitably lead to wondering who else he had been this bold with. The thought process naturally flowed to his fiancée—surely, he hadn’t just held hands with her. A man who enjoyed s*x this much…  

Su-eon’s gaze lingered on the polished, antique wooden floor. She thought quietly to herself, 

I might not be the first woman to lie here.  

“…”  

But she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to say anything strange that might make it seem like she was fishing for information, nor did she want to reveal these feelings. Prodding about past relationships and reacting to every detail felt childish and exhausting just to imagine. 

I’ll never do that.

“Why did you stop mid-sentence? Always what?”  

“I want to get up.”  

Su-eon shrugged off Seung-jo’s arm, which was wrapped around her shoulders, and sat up. As she turned her back to him, Seung-jo grabbed her arm. His face, which had been smiling just moments ago, subtly hardened.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“I’m cold. I’ll go inside first.”  

Despite the heat still simmering within her, Su-eon pushed away Seung-jo’s shirt and gathered her clothes in her hands. Suddenly, her body was pushed backward.  

Seung-jo, who had pinned her down, cupped the back of her head with his palm as he leaned over her. Supporting himself with his arms pressed against the floor, he looked down at her. His gaze was quiet yet piercing, as if it were digging into her soul.  

“Why are you suddenly upset?”  

“Who said I’m upset?”  

“You.”  

“I’m not upset.”  

“Liar.”  

Seung-jo’s cool gaze quietly studied Su-eon’s face.  

“Just a moment ago, you were looking at me like you were madly in love. Now, it’s like you hate me to death.”  

“When did I ever look like I was madly in love?”  

“You called me with a desperate look on your face. The whole time.”  

Su-eon’s face flushed red as she glared at him.  

“I never did that.”  

“Really? Then let me remind you.”