1.9

After roughly drying her hair, she left the bathroom. Junmo was at the kitchen island, chewing on a slice of bread straight out of the bag. His hair, still damp from his shower, dripped water onto his shoulders. It seemed as though the playful side of him had been washed away during his shower. The Junmo from the earlier incident felt like the real him, while the current one seemed unfamiliar.  

“It really was a mistake. Opening the bathroom door and being undressed—I didn’t mean for either of those things to happen. I mean, who in their right mind would bother putting on clothes while living alone? And you’re the one who insisted on moving in here….”  

Leeseo lowered her gaze.  

Thankfully, Junmo was now fully dressed, but the fleeting image of his body she had accidentally seen earlier lingered in her mind. She wasn’t sure where to look. Strangely, she felt more flustered recalling Junmo in just his underwear than she had when dealing with Junhyung, who had been completely n*ked. Seeing both brothers in such states within such a short time—it was as if her eyes had been overwhelmed in one day.  

“From now on, use the bathroom freely. I’ll stick to the one in the master bedroom.”  

His tone was curt and businesslike, his words as dry as his expression. In a way, she was grateful for the earlier awkward incident—it had likely softened his mood. Otherwise, she might have had to deal with an even harsher version of him.  

“When did you get home?”

“Early this morning.”  

Leeseo frowned at his reply. She could faintly smell alcohol in the air.  

“Did you drink?”  

“Yeah. Parked the car and had a few at the indoor food stall nearby.”  

His earlier playful demeanor now made sense. It must have been a combination of alcohol and sleepiness that had left him so defenseless.  

“Want some?”  

Junmo pulled another slice of bread from the bag and held it out to her. He seemed oddly confident about it, but she knew that the bread was something she had bought the day before after discovering his fridge was empty except for beer.  

“Should I make some coffee…?”

Desperate for coffee, Leeseo opened the cabinet and began pulling out the coffee grinder, dripper, and pour-over kettle, arranging them on the counter.  

“No, I don’t need it. My stomach’s upset—I just need to get something in me.”  

Junmo, holding a slice of bread in his mouth, lazily tied the bread bag shut. He didn’t even bother using the bread clip that was right there.  

“More importantly….”  

Trailing off, Junmo tilted his head slightly and looked at her.  

A brief silence followed.  

“You really came, huh.”  

He said it in a calm, indifferent tone. Leeseo studied his handsome face carefully, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. 

Was he glad I was here, or did he find it bothersome? 

His expression was ambiguous.  

“Aren’t you going to work today?” 

“No, I’m not.”  

“Are you staying home all day?”  

“Not exactly.”

Feeling uncomfortable with the prolonged silence, Leeseo had tried to keep the conversation going, but Junmo only answered her questions without elaborating. It was the worst way to hold a conversation, but his unspoken plans were easy to guess.  

Junhyung’s surgery was scheduled for the morning, so he would probably head to the hospital. While he wasn’t technically going to work, he would still end up there.

Another awkward silence followed.  

“What about you?”  

“Work? I don’t have to go in today.”  

She didn’t bother explaining why. If he ever found out what Junhyung had done at the hospital where he worked, she didn’t need to imagine his reaction—it was obvious.

Junmo shoved his hands into his pockets and silently stared at Leeseo before pulling out a chair from the kitchen island and sitting down. His slouched posture and expression made it seem like he wanted to ask something. Leeseo, avoiding his gaze, poured coffee beans directly from the bag into the grinder.  

Just as she was about to turn the wooden handle of the grinder to grind the beans, she heard the sound of the chair scraping against the floor. Suddenly, Junmo approached, snatching the grinder from her hands. A few coffee beans spilled onto the countertop and rolled around.  

“What are you doing?”  

Leeseo looked at him with a puzzled expression, demanding an explanation.  

“Why are you drinking coffee on an empty stomach?”  

“I need coffee to wake up.”  

“Eat food. Food will wake you up too.”  

Food? There wasn’t even rice. Actually, there wasn’t just no rice—there weren’t proper bowls, spoons, or even a decent pot in the house.  

As if he had read her mind, Junmo pushed the grinder toward the kitchen window and pulled out his phone. He opened a delivery app and, without looking up, asked, 

“What do you want to eat?” 

His confident tone made it seem like he could order anything and have it delivered instantly.  

“I’m not used to eating breakfast, so I don’t need anything.”  

“What do you want to eat?”  

Ignoring her response, Junmo continued scrolling through the app without lifting his head.  

“You order breakfast too?”  

Leeseo asked, just to see how he’d respond.  

“No.”  

Even as she spoke, Junmo kept flipping through the app.  

“You seem pretty good at ordering delivery for someone who doesn’t do it often.”  

“Once. When my friends barged in after a night of drinking and demanded hangover food.”  

“You’ve never cooked a meal yourself, have you?”  

“Of course not.”  

“Then let’s cook something ourselves.”  

Finally, Junmo looked up from his phone, frowning. His eyes briefly darted to the clock.  

“Why bother? We can just order something.”  

“It’s not a bother.”  

“Seriously? Ordering is cheaper. If you factor in everything, it costs less to order. It’s not just money—there’s the time it takes to prepare and cook. And then there’s the cleanup…”

“Why even think about all that? I have plenty of time and money, so I’ll cook.”  

Leeseo opened the lid of the electric rice cooker and pulled out the inner pot as if to prove her point. Junmo shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her and casually strolled over to the living room sofa.  

Now that she thought about it, the once-empty kitchen counter was cluttered with items. The fridge was the same. When she had opened it earlier to grab some water, she had been startled. Rows of large and small containers of side dishes were neatly arranged inside. The fridge door was packed with milk, juice, and sparkling water. She didn’t even need to open the vegetable drawer to know it was full of fruits.  

“Ah!”  

Before he could sit down on the sofa, Leeseo let out a short scream.  

The loud thud of something hitting the floor was followed by her cry. Reflexively, Junmo turned his head toward the kitchen. It seemed she had bumped into the chair he had just vacated. She was rubbing her knee with her palm, biting her lower lip as if it hurt a lot. He was about to dismiss it, thinking it might bruise, but her expression made him change his mind.  

“Let me see.”  

“It’s fine.”  

She tried to pull her leg away when he insisted on checking.  

“Your face says it’s not fine.”  

Without waiting for her permission, Junmo grabbed the hem of her pants and raised it slightly. It was so quick that it was hard to even call it lifting—she immediately pulled her leg back, causing the fabric to fall back into place.  

“What’s this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did someone hit you?”

“Who gets hit at my age…? Ow! Oppa!”

She was about to retort but ended up shouting in shock. It was because of Junmo’s sudden and unexpected action.  

Before she could react, he had lifted her and placed her on the kitchen island. He did it effortlessly, as if it required no strength at all. At first, she thought he was joking, but his serious expression said otherwise. Without hesitation, he rolled her pant leg up to her knee.  

“This… this…. And this—what are all these?”  

Junmo pointed to the faint and dark bruises scattered across her shin with his long fingers and spoke. Leeseo let out a short sigh.  

“I just bumped into things. When I try to do something in a hurry, I get too flustered…. You saw it just now, didn’t you?”  

Junmo clicked his tongue. She had always been careless, even as a child, but this was worse than he had imagined.  

He gently held her kneecap with his entire palm and softly rotated it. The warmth of his hand wrapped around her knee, and Leeseo closed her eyes tightly. The warmth was almost tearfully comforting. But it didn’t last long—Junmo pressed his thumb firmly on the area above her knee.  

“Ow! That hurts.”  

Leeseo frowned.  

“Of course, it hurts. You hit it hard enough to make a loud thud. I’m surprised the chair survived.”  

Junmo continued examining her knee with care, ignoring her complaints. There was no sound of bones grinding against each other, nor did it seem like cartilage was torn.  

“It doesn’t look like it’s injured, but it’ll swell. I’ll bring you some medicine tonight.”  

Leeseo was about to say she didn’t need any medicine but clamped her mouth shut. She looked up and accidentally met Junmo’s gaze, which had been fixed on her all along.  

“What’s the reason?”  

As if he had been waiting for this moment, Junmo finally spoke.  

“What… reason?”  

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. 

Was she really going to feign ignorance?  

It hadn’t been for nothing that he had gone to the family home in Hannam-dong. His mother had summoned him, but he also needed to confirm something. For a moment, he had wondered if his mother had orchestrated this as some kind of surveillance, but he quickly dismissed the thought. His mother didn’t even seem to know that Leeseo had moved in.  

“Are you not going to tell me? The real reason you moved into my house.”  

Leeseo carefully rolled down her pants, which had been bunched up to her knees, taking more time than necessary to smooth out the wrinkles. She needed to buy herself some time.  

But Junmo wasn’t the type to let things slide.  

She wasn’t going to France, but in a month, she planned to leave. To leave Oh Soohyun, Hannam-dong, which had embraced her when she was young, and even Junmo. She felt like she could finally do it now.  

One month.  

She wasn’t asking for much. She didn’t even want to fix the feelings that had gone awry between her and Junmo three years ago. Even if she tried, Oh Soohyun wouldn’t let it slide. If she attempted it, she’d only end up being treated like an object or a parasite.  

“If I tell you the truth, will you believe me?”  

“Let’s hear it.”  

“What I said about leaving is true. It’s also true that I have a month left.”  

“And the rest?”  

Leeseo took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and looked directly at Junmo before slowly opening her mouth.  

“You’re curious about why it had to be your house, right?”  

“Yeah.”  

“There are days like that, you know. Days when emotions suddenly hit you like a tidal wave. I went to an exhibition. It was a showcase for up-and-coming artists. Not a masterpiece, not even a particularly remarkable painting…. But when I saw a painting of two blurry figures from behind… I started crying.”  

The moment she saw that painting, Leeseo thought of her mother, Yoon Heejeong.  

The indistinct colors, the flowing lines, the free-spirited composition—it was the complete opposite of her mother’s style.  

Still, just in case, she had checked the caption next to the painting with teary eyes. Naturally, the artist’s name was unfamiliar.  

She had known it wouldn’t be her mother’s work. But even so, the wave of loss she felt upon confirming that fact was indescribably overwhelming.  

The next day, she returned to the gallery, hoping to see the painting again, but it was gone. It had probably been purchased by Madam Hwang of the Geumo Group, who had been eyeing it beside her.  

“That’s it?”  

When Leeseo fell silent, Junmo frowned as if he couldn’t understand. His expression seemed to ask, ‘What does that have to do with this situation?’

“Yes.”  

Junmo raised an eyebrow skeptically. It seemed he still didn’t get it. Maybe he thought there was a deeper motive hidden behind her actions.  

Leeseo slowly tucked her hair behind her ear.  

“I’ve always been alone, but that day, being alone felt unbearable.”  

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words that had been circling in her mind: 

That’s when I thought of you, oppa.

Instead, she gazed off into the distance.  

Junmo didn’t take his eyes off her as she stared into the distance. No, he couldn’t look away. Her pale profile was like a hangnail under his skin, constantly scratching at a corner of his heart.