Jun Pyo had gone to America with a heavy heart but a resolute determination to become a better man. He had taken Jae Kyung's words to heart: If you love her, love her the right way. Love her in a way that makes her bloom, not in a way that cages her.
For years, Jun Pyo had lived his life in absolutes. If he wanted something, he got it. If there was an obstacle, he crushed it. But Jan Di wasn't just "something" he could own, nor was she a challenge to conquer. She was a person—a vibrant, headstrong, and kind-hearted person who deserved a love that cherished her individuality.
From the bustling streets of New York to the quiet corners of Central Park, Jun Pyo found himself reflecting on the simple things he had never fully appreciated about Jan Di. Her laughter. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams. Even her stubbornness that had once driven him crazy now felt like something he admired deeply.
But as much as he tried to understand her, distance made him realize how little he truly knew. What was Jan Di's favorite food these days? Did she still love eating spicy ramyun as she did back in high school? What about her favorite flowers? He remembered once arrogantly handing her a lavish bouquet of roses, thinking she would be impressed. But now he wondered—did she actually like roses, or had she merely smiled out of politeness?
The more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him: loving someone wasn't just about grand gestures or extravagant displays. It was about knowing them, truly knowing them—their likes, their dislikes, their quirks, and their dreams.
So Jun Pyo began to write. Letters to Jan Di. Letters he never sent.
"Geum Jan Di, if I asked you what your favorite flower was, would you think I was a fool for not knowing? I suppose I am a fool. But I want to learn, even if it takes me a lifetime. I hope, someday, you'll let me."
Every letter was a small step toward understanding her better, even if the answers were slow to come. He didn't know if Jan Di would ever truly forgive him for the mistakes he had made or if he could ever earn her love again. But for now, Jun Pyo was content to keep trying. To grow. To become the man she deserved—not for her sake, but because it was the right thing to do.
For the first time in his life, Gu Jun Pyo was learning that love wasn't about winning. It was about giving.
Back in Seoul, Geum Jan Di and Yoon Ji Hoo were still adjusting to life in the mobile home they had won from that ridiculous contest. It was small, cozy, and surprisingly comfortable—perfect for two people who were trying to figure out their next steps in life.
It was a quiet night, the kind that wrapped the world in a serene hush. Jan Di had just stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and clinging to her shoulders. She was wrapped in a small towel, its edges barely meeting. She felt safe moving freely in the tiny space, knowing Ji Hoo had said he was going to spend time with his grandfather at the main house.
But as fate would have it, her confidence was short-lived.
Just as Jan Di opened the door to step out of the tiny bathroom, she came to an abrupt halt, colliding with Yoon Ji Hoo. He stood there, wrapped in nothing but a loosely draped towel, his lean, sculpted frame still glistening from his shower.
Her eyes betrayed her instantly.
Jan Di's gaze involuntarily traveled up and down, taking in the sight she had never anticipated seeing in her life—her best friend, Ji Hoo, half-naked. The droplets of water slid lazily from his damp hair down to his long neck, gliding over his prominent collarbone and tracing a path to his chest and over defined abs, and finally to where the towel hung loosely at his hips.
Stop looking, Geum Jan Di. Just stop! she mentally scolded herself, but no matter how much she willed it, her curiosity got the better of her. Her gaze lingered, drawn to details she shouldn't have been noticing. The slight shadow of hair on his lower abdomen, the defined V-line that seemed to lead her eyes further down, and then... she froze.
A flush crept up her face as her eyes caught on a distinct shape beneath the towel. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt heat rising from her neck to her ears. No, no, no, stop thinking! Don't even go there!
Ji Hoo, on the other hand, stood there completely calm, as if unaware of the internal battle raging inside her. His dark eyes, usually so gentle, held a quiet intensity that only added to her flustered state.
"Jan Di," he said softly, his tone laced with amusement. "Are you okay?"
She snapped her gaze back to his face, her cheeks burning. "I—I'm fine! Totally fine! I was just, uh, going to... to... my room!" she stammered, clutching her towel tighter around her.
Ji Hoo tilted his head, his lips curving into a subtle smile. "You seem a little distracted."
"Distracted? Me? No, not at all!" she blurted out, taking a hurried step to the side, but her foot caught on the edge of the doorframe, and she stumbled forward—right into him.
His hands came up instinctively, steadying her as she pressed against his chest. Her face was now inches away from his, and she could feel the warmth of his skin, and smell the faint scent of his soap. She looked up, her wide eyes meeting his calm, steady gaze.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The air between them was charged with an unspoken tension, something neither of them dared to name.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and soft, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Th-thanks," she whispered, stepping back quickly, nearly tripping again in her haste.
Jan Di clutched her towel tighter, suddenly hyper-aware of how small it was and how vulnerable she felt under his gaze. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out every coherent thought.
"I should… I should get dressed!" she blurted out, attempting to step around him, but in the cramped hallway of the mobile home, there wasn't much room.
As she sidestepped, her shoulder brushed against his chest, and the contact sent a jolt through her entire body. She practically fled to the tiny bedroom, closing the door behind her with a shaky breath. Pressing her back against the door, she stared at the ceiling as if it could offer her some sort of salvation.
What was that? What just happened? she thought, her cheeks burning. Her heart refused to settle as images of Ji Hoo—wet, bare-chested, and looking like he had walked straight out of a dream—flashed unbidden in her mind.
Outside, Ji Hoo stood motionless for a moment, a small, amused chuckle escaping his lips. Jan Di had always been adorable when flustered, and tonight was no exception.
He shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair as he stepped into the kitchen. Living with Geum Jan Di was proving to be far more complicated—and far more intriguing—than he had ever imagined.
After getting dressed, Ji Hoo stepped quietly into the cozy single bedroom they shared, his heart lightly fluttering. Jan Di was oblivious to his presence, engrossed in her reflection as she stood in front of the mirror, her hair dryer humming softly. In his hands, he balanced two glasses of warm turmeric milk, freshly delivered by his grandfather—a comforting gesture meant to soothe and nourish.
His gaze fell on her, and a flood of memories washed over him. Jan Di was wearing a pair of pajamas that felt achingly familiar. It was his late mother's pajama set, still seemingly new despite its history. He remembered how, as a child, he would watch his parents choose their outfits each morning, never donning the same clothes day after day. Yet this pajama set was one he had often seen at night, its pastel pink hue illuminated softly in the dim light of their home.
The outfit comprised a matching two-piece sleepwear set that exemplified a delicate charm. The bralette was crafted from smooth satin, hugging her figure snugly, with intricate white lace trim adorning the edges, giving it a gentle and feminine appeal. The high-waisted shorts mirrored the bralette's elegance, cut from the same silky fabric, with additional lace accents gracing the sides. Each detail of the ensemble combined to create a look that was effortlessly charming, and as he stood there, he couldn't help but admire the way it highlighted her waist, the gentle curve of her hips, and the shapeliness of her thighs. The outfit fit her perfectly, accentuating her silhouette in a way that felt both nostalgic and warming.
He cleared his throat, and as if sensing his presence, she spun around to face him. In that moment, he finally took in the full view of her figure. Her breasts were gently rounded, perfectly proportioned—neither too large nor too small—creating a graceful silhouette. Her flat stomach curved softly into a well-defined waist, emphasizing her femininity. The transition from her slim waist to her round hips was smooth and alluring, defining her shape in a way that was both captivating and elegant. Realizing his gaze lingered too long, Jan Di fumbled for the white lace robe hanging loosely over her shoulders, pulling it closed in a flurry of modesty. Her cheeks flushed as she clutched the edges tightly.
"Sunbae!" she exclaimed, clearly flustered. "I didn't know you were… I thought you'd be outside!"
Ji Hoo blinked, snapping out of his daze. "Sorry," he said, his voice calm but quieter than usual. He stepped forward and gently placed the two glasses of turmeric milk on the bedside table. "Grandfather brought these for us."
Jan Di glanced down at the robe she was holding shut, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the delicate lace trim. "I… I didn't realize these were…" She hesitated, her voice trailing off as her eyes flickered to his. "He gave me the outfit earlier. I didn't know it was your mother's."
Ji Hoo's gaze softened as he took in her words. He could see the uncertainty in her expression, the way she was bracing herself for a reaction she wasn't sure she'd get.
"It's fine," he said gently, his tone steady and reassuring. "Grandfather must have thought it would suit you. And he was right."
Jan Di's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks growing warmer. "You… don't mind?"
Ji Hoo shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "No," he replied simply. "It looks good on you."
Her grip on the robe loosened slightly at his words, though her face remained flushed. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with an unspoken tension. Ji Hoo could see how flustered she was, but he couldn't help the way his heart stirred at the sight of her—standing there, wearing something so tied to his past, and yet making it her own.
Breaking the silence, Ji Hoo gestured toward the glasses on the table. "Drink it while it's warm," he said, his tone returning to its usual calm.
Jan Di nodded, stepping toward the table and reaching for one of the glasses. But as she took a sip, her thoughts lingered on Ji Hoo's expression—the quiet way he had looked at her, not with judgment or discomfort, but with something else entirely.
Ji Hoo, meanwhile, moved to sit on the edge of the small bed, his mind still processing the unexpected sight of her in his mother's pajamas. The emotions it stirred were complex—nostalgia, warmth, and something deeper, something that made him want to protect the fleeting moment they were sharing.
The soft click of the bedside lamp resonated in the stillness, plunging the room into a velvety darkness. Only the gentle, silvery glow of moonlight slipped through the sheer curtains, casting a delicate light that danced across the small space. The bed, snug and compact, seemed to shrink the distance between them, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt almost palpable.
Ji Hoo lay on his side, his back just barely grazing the cool wall behind him. He could feel the slenderness of the mattress beneath him, and the warmth of another presence just inches away. Jan Di lay facing the opposite direction, her silhouette outlined by the soft moonlight, yet her movements were stiff and restless. The white lace overgown she wore—the fabric fine and intricate—seemed to protest against the cozy bedding, adding to her discomfort as it clung awkwardly around her.
"Stop fidgeting," Ji Hoo murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through the silence that enveloped them like a soft blanket of sound.
"I'm not," Jan Di retorted with a hint of defiance, though the tremor in her tone betrayed her confidence. She tugged at the fabric of her gown, her fingers working to smooth out the delicate lace where it creased and bunched over her legs, as if she could wrestle it into submission.
A heavy silence hung between them for a moment, punctuated only by the faint rustling of fabric. Ji Hoo glanced at her, wondering if perhaps she had finally settled. But the soft sounds of her restlessness started again, and he released a soft, resigned sigh.
"If you feel uncomfortable…" he began, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of concern. "You can remove the gown."
Jan Di instantly stiffened, her hands freezing mid-adjustment, caught in a delicate balance between what was expected and what she truly desired. "I'm fine," she replied quickly, the sharpness of her words failing to disguise the slight tremor lacing her voice, which had risen higher than she intended.
Ji Hoo shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to turn and face her back more directly. His brow furrowed slightly with empathy. "Stop being stubborn," he urged, his tone gentle yet firm, an invitation wrapped in kindness. "We're in bed. That overgown isn't meant for sleeping. It's just making you uncomfortable."
Heat flared in Jan Di's cheeks, and she felt the unmistakable warmth creeping up her neck, grateful that the darkness concealed her blush. "I'm not being stubborn," she mumbled, her grip tightening around the fabric of the gown, as if it provided a shield between them.
"You are," Ji Hoo countered softly, his words cutting through the tension with the precision of a well-aimed arrow. "No one's going to see you. It's just the two of us here."
His words settled heavily in the air, their simplicity cloaked in unspoken intimacy. Jan Di bit her lip, feeling the fabric yield slightly under her loosening grasp, a sign of her own wavering resolve.
"It's not that easy," she whispered after a moment, her voice barely audible amidst the quiet of the night.
Ji Hoo leaned back against his pillow, sensing her hesitation, feeling the subtle shift in the space between them as a tangible weight. "It's just a piece of fabric," he said quietly, each word imbued with understanding. "You don't need to put a barrier between us when there's really no need for one."
His voice was gentle, almost too gentle for the situation, causing Jan Di's heart to skip a beat in an unexpected wave of vulnerability that she wasn't prepared for. She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the delicate lace, the very fabric that had become a source of discomfort. "It's… not about the fabric," she confessed softly, her voice teetering on the edge of uncertainty, barely rising above a whisper.
Ji Hoo remained quiet, granting her the space to gather her thoughts. He understood the delicate dance of emotions they were navigating, the intersection of fear, intimacy, and truth.
"It's…" she trailed off, shaking her head as if to dismiss the swirling thoughts that threatened to confound her. "Never mind."
Respecting her choice, Ji Hoo let out a small sigh, settling back into his spot on the mattress. "Suit yourself," he said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, lightheartedness threading through his words. "But if you wake up tangled in that thing, don't blame me."
The tension eased slightly, but the unspoken connection lingered, hanging in the air as they both wrestled with the emotions that danced just out of reach, like shadows under the moonlight.
Jan Di huffed lightly, a soft, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite her best efforts to maintain a facade of annoyance. "Fine," she murmured, her voice laced with a quiet yet unmistakable defiance that hung in the air between them like a challenge.
Before Ji Hoo could fully process her playful tone, she shrugged off the delicate overgown in one swift, fluid motion, letting it slip from her shoulders. With an unexpected flick of her wrist, she tossed the fabric directly at his face, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "There. You can have it," she declared, her voice carrying an intriguing blend of amusement and feigned irritation as she nestled back comfortably under the warm blanket.
Startled, Ji Hoo froze for a moment, the soft fabric of the gown falling over his head and draping over his shoulders like a light curtain. Blinking in surprise, he slowly reached up to pull the lace away from his face, his fingers brushing against the intricate patterns woven into the fabric. He glanced down at the gown in his hands, then shifted his gaze back to Jan Di, who was resolutely turned away from him.
"You didn't have to throw it at me," he remarked, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of exasperation that only slightly masked his amusement.
Jan Di smirked, the playful banter igniting a spark of mischief in her expression, though she continued to keep her back to him. "You're the one who said it wasn't for sleeping. Now it's your problem," she shot back, her voice playful but firm, as she settled more comfortably under the blanket, finally free from the confines of the overgown.
A brief silence enveloped them, a comfortable warmth filling the space as the earlier playful tension began to dissipate. Ji Hoo's eyes flicked to the delicate lace in his hands, then back to her, a faint smile teasing at his lips. Without saying another word, he meticulously folded the gown with care, setting it on the bedside table as if it were something precious rather than a source of playful contention.
"You're impossible, you know that?" he quipped lightly as he settled back down, pulling the blanket over himself with a small sigh of contentment.
"And you're bossy," Jan Di replied, her tone filled with warmth. A smile broke through her earlier resolve, and she tucked herself into the blanket, reveling in the newfound comfort that replaced the restrictive fabric.
A serene silence enveloped them once again, the air now tinged with the ease that companionship often brings. Ji Hoo turned slightly on his side, resting his head on his hand and watching her with an intensity that was soft yet searching. "Better now?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jan Di hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze prompting a vulnerability she seldom allowed herself to express. She finally nodded, her voice softer this time, almost shy. "Yeah… better."
A small smile graced Ji Hoo's lips as he closed his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through him at her admission. "Good," he replied softly, letting the comfort of their shared moment envelop them like a protective cocoon.
The night was still young, a deep indigo canvas stretched across the sky, dotted with twinkling stars. The soft rustling of leaves outside whispered secrets to the quiet air, creating a serene backdrop that enveloped the small, cozy room. Ji Hoo's voice broke the stillness, calm yet laced with a casual warmth that made the moment feel intimate.
"Otter," he said, playfully using the nickname that always seemed to catch Jan Di's attention. It had a way of pulling her in, a gentle reminder of the bond they shared. "Yi Jung wants to take Ga Eul camping, and he was asking if we could tag along with them."
Instantly, Jan Di's curiosity was piqued like a flame ignited by a spark. She turned toward him, her heart racing a little, eager to probe deeper into the idea of an adventure. Yet, in her excitement—or perhaps it was just her bad luck—she momentarily forgot they were sharing a single pillow. As she faced him, her face ended up dangerously close to his, their noses almost brushing against each other, a heartbeat away from an electric moment.
Ji Hoo's gaze didn't waver; he held her eyes with an intensity that seemed to render the world around them momentarily irrelevant. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he quietly assessed her reaction. "Is that okay with you?" he asked, his voice softly layered, as though he were trying not to startle her from this fragile moment.
Jan Di blinked, exhilaration coursing through her, and her heart skipped a beat before she quickly regained her composure. "To where?" she asked, attempting to sound casual, though she was acutely aware of how close they were, the air charged with an unspoken energy.
"In the mountains," he replied, his voice steady and warm. "I was hoping we could take a short trip there first, just the two of us. You know, to see what we'd need to bring if we went with them."
Her mind began to race as she nodded thoughtfully, picturing the stunning vistas and the untamed beauty of the mountains. "The mountains… we could maybe build a bamboo hut," she said, her voice brightening and an excited smile spreading across her face as the idea took shape in her imagination. "Something simple but cozy. Like a little hideaway, just for us."
Ji Hoo chuckled softly, amusement painting the corners of his mouth into a faint smile. "A bamboo hut? You do realize that's not exactly camping, right?" he teased, his brow slightly arched in playful disbelief.
"Well, it's close enough!" she protested, puffing her cheeks slightly in mock indignation. The laughter in her eyes sparkled as she pushed back against his teasing. "You said we'd scout the place first, right? We could build it ahead of time so it's ready when Yi Jung and Ga Eul arrive."
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "And you think we can build an entire hut in just one trip?"
"Why not?" she countered, her grin expanding as the challenge sparked between them. "With your brains and my determination, we can do anything."
Ji Hoo shook his head, a soft laugh escaping his lips, almost incredulous at her unwavering spirit. "You're unbelievable," he remarked, more amused than exasperated, the warmth in his tone reflecting how he cherished this side of her.
"And you're not saying no," she teased back, a playful sparkle lighting up her eyes. The air between them felt buoyant, alive with their laughter and shared dreams of adventure.
Their banter continued, light and effortless, filling the dimly lit room with a warmth that pushed back against the coolness of the night. Despite the closeness of their faces, neither seemed to notice anymore; they were instead lost in the delightful exchange, the prospect of an adventure unfolding before them, leaving them both breathless with anticipation.
Finally, Ji Hoo leaned back slightly, his expression becoming more contemplative. "If we do this," he said, a hint of seriousness creeping in, "you're carrying the bamboo."
Jan Di gasped, her mouth falling open in mock offense, wide-eyed and feigning shocked disbelief. "Me? You're the one who suggested this trip!" she exclaimed, shaking her head with exaggerated seriousness.
"Exactly," he replied smoothly, the steady tone of his voice matched the playful twinkle in his eyes. "I'll plan it. You'll carry it."
Their laughter mingled together in that small room, a harmonious blend of camaraderie that felt both natural and profound. As the night stretched on and the stars twinkled brightly outside, the idea of a shared adventure lingered in the air between them—a promise of something more waiting just beyond the horizon, ready to unfold with each whispered dream and excited plan.
The air between them shifted subtly, the casual banter giving way to something more intimate. Ji Hoo's arms instinctively found her waist, his hands brushing against her bare skin. The unexpected contact made Jan Di shiver, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she moved closer, as though drawn to the warmth and safety of his presence. Tentatively, her arms wrapped around his waist, and she rested her head lightly on his chest.
"If there's a lake," she began, her voice soft, "we could catch fish…"
"And swim too," he added, the words falling so casually from his lips that it took her a moment to process.
Her body stiffened at the mention of swimming, a shadow flickering across her face. She bit her lip, hesitating before she muttered softly, "You do know I can't swim anymore."
Ji Hoo didn't reply immediately. Instead, his hand gently moved to her shoulder, the one she'd injured long ago, and began tracing small, comforting circles over it. His touch was tender, and soothing, as though he were trying to erase not just the physical ache but the emotional weight tied to it.
Before she realized it, he had shifted her position, turning her gently so that she was now lying beneath him. His arm remained securely around her waist, the other cradling her shoulder. She was completely flush against him, their breaths mingling in the space between them.
Jan Di's heart raced, but she didn't mind the closeness. She didn't mind the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against hers. And yet, she wondered if he even noticed how intimately he'd positioned them—or if it was simply instinctive, an unconscious response to their growing bond.
"I will be there," Ji Hoo said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His breath fanned across her face, warm and reassuring.
Jan Di swallowed hard, her fingers clutching lightly at his shirt. "You mean… in the water?"
"I mean everywhere," he replied, his tone firm yet gentle, carrying an unshakable confidence. "If you're in the water, I'll be there. If you're scared, I'll be there. You do trust me… right?"
His words sent a rush of warmth through her chest, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. She looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and an unspoken promise.
"I trust you," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Ji Hoo smiled faintly, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Then you don't have to be afraid. Not with me."
The quiet assurance in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. She didn't know how it had happened—how she'd gone from feeling so alone in the world to having someone like Ji Hoo beside her, someone who seemed to understand her fears without needing her to explain them.
As the night wrapped around them, the room felt smaller, cozier, and infinitely safer. And for the first time in a long while, Jan Di felt a flicker of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to face her fears alone anymore.
The night deepened, the soft hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves outside the window lulling the world into a peaceful slumber. Inside the small room, Ji Hoo stirred slightly, his body adjusting to the warmth of Jan Di beside him.
In her sleep, Jan Di shifted unconsciously. At first, it was innocent—a soft sigh, a small turn. But then her leg moved, draping over his, her knee brushing against his middle.
Ji Hoo's eyes snapped open. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through him, and for a moment, he lay there frozen, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He swallowed hard, feeling her lean thigh resting against his.
Gritting his teeth, he reached down cautiously, his large hand wrapping gently around her leg as he tried to move it away. But as soon as he did, Jan Di murmured something incomprehensible in her sleep and immediately shifted it back, this time with more insistence.
Ji Hoo exhaled sharply, his body tensing. Her unintentional closeness was driving him to the edge of his composure. His pulse quickened, and he pressed the back of his head against the pillow, staring up at the dark ceiling as if it could offer him salvation.
"What have I got myself into?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. His hand hovered near her leg, debating whether he should attempt to move it again or simply surrender to his predicament.
Her soft, steady breathing tickled his chest, and her weight against him was both comforting and maddening. Ji Hoo closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to calm down, but every nerve in his body seemed to be hyper-aware of her presence.
"Yoon Ji Hoo," he muttered to himself, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Yoon Ji Hoo, get it together."
He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, but the pressure of her leg remained steadfast. She had a way of making him lose control without even trying, and tonight was no exception.
"This deserves a cold shower," he whispered, though he knew full well that getting up now would only disturb her sleep. Instead, he clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay still and let out a long, slow breath.
Jan Di sighed softly, her head nuzzling closer to his chest, and Ji Hoo bit back a groan. He glanced down at her peaceful expression, her lips slightly parted as she slept. She was utterly unaware of the chaos she was causing inside him.
With a resigned sigh, he let his hand fall back to his side, deciding that enduring the moment was his only option. "Just until morning," he told himself. "You can survive this… just until morning."
But as the night wore on, Ji Hoo couldn't help but wonder if Jan Di was testing him, even in her dreams.
Later in the night, when Jan Di unconsciously shifted away from him, Ji Hoo took his chance. He carefully slipped out of bed, the cool air brushing against his skin as he padded quietly to the bathroom.
"Finally," he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. His body was still on high alert from the earlier chaos, and he was in desperate need of a cold shower.
The icy water hit him like a wake-up call, soothing his frayed nerves and allowing him to regain some semblance of control. He stood there for a while, letting the chill do its work, and by the time he stepped out, he felt a little more like himself.
Returning to the bedroom, Ji Hoo moved cautiously, slipping back into the bed without disturbing Jan Di. He settled in, breathing a quiet sigh of relief, finally ready to get some peace.
But that peace was short-lived.
Just as his eyes began to close, he felt it—a soft touch. Her hand brushed against his chest, and before he could react, it moved lower, grazing his stomach and inching dangerously close to a place that made his entire body tense.
"Yummy…" Jan Di murmured in her sleep, her voice dreamy and innocent as her hand pressed lightly against him.
A groan escaped Ji Hoo before he could stop it, low and deep, resonating in the quiet room. His head fell back against the pillow, and he clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the blanket tightly to keep himself grounded.
"Jan Di," he whispered, his voice strained as he tried to gently move her hand away. But her grip only tightened slightly, and she shifted closer, her face brushing against his arm.
This was too much. Way too much.
"Yoon Ji Hoo, keep it together," he muttered under his breath, barely holding onto his composure. He closed his eyes tightly, his breathing uneven as he tried to will himself to remain calm.
Her hand finally stilled, and he took the opportunity to gently, but firmly, lift it and place it back at her side. He exhaled shakily, staring up at the ceiling and silently praying for strength.
As Jan Di settled back into a peaceful slumber, completely oblivious to the turmoil she had caused, Ji Hoo lay awake, his mind racing.
"What did I do to deserve this?" he whispered to himself, a mix of exasperation and amusement coloring his tone.
Morning couldn't come fast enough.
The night took an even messier turn when Jan Di, still deeply asleep, shifted once more—this time rolling on top of Ji Hoo. Her weight pressed down on him, her petite frame snug against his body. It might have been comfortable, even soothing, if not for the fact that her hand once again found its way to him, landing in a place that sent every nerve in his body into overdrive.
Ji Hoo froze, his breathing halting as he tried to process the situation. And then, as if to add to the torment, she straddled him tightly, her thighs locking him in place as she unconsciously settled into the position. Her warm breath ghosted over his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. In her dream, she seemed to be imagining a candy, mumbling something incoherent before her teeth gently grazed his earlobe.
Ji Hoo's eyes widened in disbelief. No, no, no… this is not happening.
But it was.
She bit his ear softly, her lips closing around his lobe as though she were savoring a piece of candy. And then, as if that wasn't enough, she began to suck on it.
A guttural groan escaped Ji Hoo before he could stop himself, his entire body going rigid beneath her. "She's chewing my ear instead of candy!" he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with a mix of exasperation and desperation.
He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling with wide, helpless eyes, silently lamenting his fate. What did I do in my life, God? How could you send me such a soulmate who has no idea what she does to me?
Her warm breath, her soft lips, the way she unconsciously shifted against him—it was driving him mad. He couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation.
"Jan Di," he whispered, his voice shaky as he tried to wake her gently. "Wake up, please. For the love of everything, wake up."
But she only murmured something unintelligible, her head tilting to nuzzle closer into his neck. Her hair tickled his face, her weight a constant reminder of how dangerously close they were.
Ji Hoo groaned again, this time burying his face in his hands—well, as much as he could while she was practically glued to him. He needed to do something before he completely lost his mind.
Carefully, he shifted his body, trying to slide her off without waking her too abruptly. But her grip tightened, her hand brushing against him once more, and he let out a low, strangled noise.
"This is a test," he muttered under his breath, his tone both resigned and tortured. "This has to be a test."
He closed his eyes, willing himself to stay calm, though his heart was racing and his mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts. Morning couldn't come fast enough—not if he wanted to survive the night with his sanity intact.
Ji Hoo let out a deep sigh, his patience and composure hanging by the thinnest of threads. He carefully shifted Jan Di off him, her weight pressing down on his chest making the task far more delicate than he'd hoped. She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep but didn't wake, allowing him just enough space to slip out from under her.
His feet hit the cold floor, and he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as he stared at the bed. What bed? he thought bitterly. There wasn't another one in this tiny mobile home, and sharing with her again for the rest of the night felt like a cruel impossibility.
Ji Hoo grabbed a pillow from the bed and glanced around the room. His gaze fell to the floor, and he resigned himself to his fate. The floor it is, he thought. It wasn't ideal, but at least it was far enough from Jan Di to keep him sane.
But first, he needed another cold shower. Desperately.
Standing up, he padded back to the bathroom, his body tense and his mind reeling from the chaos of the night. The icy water hit him again, jolting his senses but giving him the clarity he desperately needed.
"Yoon Ji Hoo, you're better than this," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing softly in the bathroom. He took a deep breath, focusing on the chill of the water, letting it cool not just his body but his overworked mind.
Once he felt composed enough, he dried off and grabbed a fresh blanket from the storage cabinet. Returning to the room, he glanced at Jan Di, who was now sprawled across the bed, her limbs taking up most of the space.
"Of course," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. He spread the blanket out on the floor next to the bed and laid down, his body immediately protesting the hard surface.
He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. "This is my life now," he whispered to himself, his tone dry.
As the night stretched on, the room grew quieter, save for the soft sound of Jan Di's breathing. Despite everything, Ji Hoo found himself smiling faintly. Even in her chaos, she had a way of making his life more colorful, more alive.
What am I going to do with you, Geum Jan Di? he thought, his eyes finally closing as exhaustion overtook him.
And as he drifted off to sleep on the cold, hard floor, he couldn't help but feel that, chaotic or not, he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
Ji Hoo barely drifted off to sleep on the hard floor when fate—or perhaps God's sense of humor—decided to test him further.
One moment, he was vaguely aware of the soft rustling of the blanket above him; the next, he felt Jan Di's weight tumble down from the bed. The fall was graceful in the worst way possible—her back pressed firmly against his chest, her head nestling into the crook of his neck as if it belonged there.
He froze, his body stiff as a board, unsure of how to react. Her soft voice broke the silence, murmuring sleepily, "It's cold…"
Ji Hoo's heart skipped a beat. For a fleeting moment, he thought she had woken up. But then her hands found his and pulled them forward, placing them against her stomach and… higher.
His brain short-circuited.
"Jan Di," he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained as his mind raced for a way out of the situation. But she didn't respond, still lost in her dream, her breathing soft and even.
As if things couldn't get worse, her hand pressed his firmly against her chest, trapping him there. Ji Hoo's breath hitched, his pulse thundering in his ears. He tried to pull his hand away gently, but her grip tightened, and she nuzzled closer, her body perfectly aligned with his.
His other hand, still on her stomach, twitched slightly as he fought to remain composed. This cannot be happening, he thought, closing his eyes tightly and taking slow, deliberate breaths.
"Yoon Ji Hoo, you need to move. Now," he muttered to himself under his breath, though the effort was proving nearly impossible with her warmth against him.
Her soft hair tickled his neck, and her scent—light, sweet, and entirely Jan Di—filled his senses. She sighed in contentment, her body melting into his as if they were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.
Ji Hoo's jaw clenched as he willed himself to think rationally. She doesn't know what she's doing. She's asleep. Just stay calm.
But then, as if on cue, she shifted slightly, her leg brushing against his, her grip still firm on his hand.
He let out a low groan, unable to suppress it. What did I do to deserve this?
"Jan Di," he tried again, his voice soft but firm, hoping to wake her. But she only mumbled something incoherent, her grip loosening just enough for him to slowly, carefully extricate himself.
His body screamed at him to stay, but his mind overruled, demanding distance before he lost whatever shred of control he had left.
Once free, Ji Hoo sat up on the floor, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled shakily. He glanced at Jan Di, who had curled up where he had been moments before, her expression peaceful and innocent.
He shook his head, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips. "You're going to be the end of me, Geum Jan Di."
Pulling the blanket over her, he resigned himself to sitting against the wall for the rest of the night. Sleep was clearly out of the question.
Jan Di's soft cries pulled Ji Hoo out of his thoughts like a sharp blade slicing through the quiet of the night.
"Sunbae…" she whimpered in her sleep, her face contorting in distress as her body began to twist and turn. "Save me…"
Her words hit him like a jolt, and in an instant, Ji Hoo was by her side. She was trapped in a nightmare, her breathing uneven and her hands clutching at the blanket as if searching for something—or someone—to anchor her.
"Jan Di," he called softly, kneeling beside her trembling form. Her cries grew louder, her head shaking as though trying to escape the vivid images playing out in her mind.
"I'm here," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he reached for her. "Calm down, it's okay. I've got you."
Her tossing didn't stop, so without another thought, Ji Hoo slipped his arms under her and lifted her gently off the floor. She felt so small and fragile in his embrace, and he held her close, his heart aching at the sight of her tears even as she slept.
He carried her back to the bed, carefully laying down with her still cradled in his arms. She clung to him instinctively, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as though it were her lifeline.
"It's just a dream," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "You're safe. I'm here."
Her breathing began to steady, though soft whimpers still escaped her lips. Ji Hoo ran a comforting hand up and down her back, his other arm wrapped securely around her waist. He could feel the tension in her body slowly ebbing away, her trembling subsiding as she nestled against him.
"Jun Pyo… the car…" she mumbled, tears still slipping down her cheeks.
Ji Hoo closed his eyes, his heart tightening at the mention of the accident. He knew how much it had scarred her—how the weight of that moment had lingered in her heart.
"It's over now," he said softly, brushing her hair away from her damp face. "You're safe. He's safe. No one's going to hurt you."
She seemed to respond to his voice, her cries quieting further as her body relaxed in his hold. Ji Hoo stayed like that, holding her tightly, his warmth enveloping her as he hummed a soft, calming tune.
Minutes passed, and soon her breathing became slow and even, signaling that she had finally slipped into a peaceful sleep. Ji Hoo didn't let go, afraid that even the slightest movement might stir her nightmare again.
Instead, he lay there, watching her, his fingers gently combing through her hair. Her face, though still streaked with tears, was calm now—soft, innocent, and beautiful.
I'll always save you, Jan Di, he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on her peaceful expression. Even if you don't realize it.
As the night deepened, Ji Hoo tightened his hold on her slightly, his own eyes growing heavy. And for the first time in hours, the room felt calm—like the storm had passed, leaving only the quiet solace of their shared presence.
The morning sunlight seeped gently through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow across the small mobile home. Jan Di stretched lazily, her body feeling unusually well-rested. She blinked at the sight of the wet bathroom floor but shrugged it off, assuming Ji Hoo had taken an early shower.
With a small smile, she turned her attention to the still-sleeping figure on the bed. His face was half-buried in the pillow, his copper hair tousled and falling over his closed eyes.
"Sunbae overslept..." she muttered, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes.
Quietly creeping closer, Jan Di bent over him, her long, damp hair falling in a cascade across his face. "Wake up, Sunbae!" she called cheerfully, her voice light and teasing.
Ji Hoo stirred, his brows furrowing slightly as the cold wet strands tickled his skin. He groaned softly and turned his head away, trying to escape the unwelcome sensation.
But Jan Di was determined. Sweeping her hair back, she leaned over him again, this time draping her hair purposefully and holding it in place. "Sunbae," she sing-songed, "you always said you liked my long hair. Look, isn't it nice and silky?"
He let out a low, exasperated groan but refused to open his eyes, burying his face further into the pillow.
Jan Di huffed, crossing her arms as she straightened up. "Fine, be that way," she said playfully. "I'll just surprise you with your favorite pancake breakfast. Then you'll have no choice but to wake up."
With that, she turned on her heel, her wet hair swaying behind her as she grabbed her clothes and headed toward the tiny kitchen.
Ji Hoo peeked an eye open as she walked away, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He watched her for a moment, the way she busied herself with her thoughts, completely unaware of everything that had transpired the night before.
She's something else, he thought, closing his eyes again. He'd give himself a few more minutes of peace before joining her for breakfast.
Jan Di stood back, admiring her work. Each plate was a masterpiece: two fluffy, golden-brown pancakes drizzled lightly with syrup, a pair of perfectly fried eggs with gleaming yolks, two juicy sausages, a generous serving of baked beans, and crispy, golden home fries.
"Perfect," she muttered with satisfaction, giving herself a small nod. She added a final touch—sliced fruits arranged neatly in a small bowl on the side.
Glancing at the table, she frowned thoughtfully. "What about drinks?" she mused. Deciding to cover all bases, she prepared a full spread: fresh orange juice, a pot of coffee, and a steaming cup of tea, knowing Ji Hoo's unpredictable tastes.
"Sunbae won't have any excuse not to eat now," she said to herself, placing the drinks carefully on the table.
Just as she was about to wake Ji Hoo again, she remembered she hadn't checked on his grandfather yet. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she headed toward the main house, expecting to find him enjoying his usual morning routine.
Instead, she found the place eerily quiet. A small note was stuck to the fridge.
Jan Di,
I had an emergency at the clinic early this morning. If you can, please make some food and deliver it to me later. I'll be busy for a while.
Grandpa.
Jan Di sighed, folding the note and tucking it into her pocket. "Grandpa and his emergencies," she said with a fond smile. She glanced back at the guest house she'd come from and muttered, "Looks like Sunbae is eating alone this morning."
She hurried back, taking care not to disturb Ji Hoo as she prepared a second set of food for the clinic. Once everything was packed neatly, she returned to the table where Ji Hoo still hadn't moved from his spot on the bed.
"Sunbae," she called softly, placing a hand on her hip. "Breakfast is ready, and I have to leave soon to deliver food to Grandpa."
Still no response.
Jan Di rolled her eyes and marched over to him, lightly flicking his forehead. "Yoon Ji Hoo, if you don't wake up now, I'm eating your pancakes."
That finally earned a response. Ji Hoo stirred, blinking up at her with sleepy eyes. "You wouldn't dare…" he muttered groggily, his voice low and hoarse from sleep.
Jan Di grinned, crossing her arms. "Oh, I would. And then I'd tell Grandpa you refused to eat the amazing breakfast I made for you."
Ji Hoo sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair as he sighed. "You're too persistent for your own good."
"Call it determination," Jan Di teased, already moving to bring the plates to the table.
Ji Hoo nodded, dialing the number for Secretary Park as he settled back against the bed, the lingering tiredness in his voice from being woken so early. "I'll have Secretary Park deliver the food to Grandpa. That way, we can be on our way without worrying about the delivery." His finger hovered over the phone, waiting for the call to connect.
Jan Di, who was busy with arranging the breakfast plates, turned toward him, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh...so we're still building the bamboo hut?" She clasped her hands together, her eyes lighting up with the same enthusiasm she'd had when they first talked about the camping trip. "Pretty please!"
Ji Hoo couldn't help but laugh softly at her eagerness. There was something about the way she expressed her excitement—so genuine, so carefree—that made him want to indulge her every whim. His gaze softened as he watched her, then returned to the phone in his hand as it began to ring.
"Secretary Park, I need you to pick up some food from the house and deliver it to the clinic. Make sure to double-check everything before you leave. Jan Di and I will be heading out soon for a camping trip." He paused, glancing at Jan Di who was now practically bouncing on her toes, waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, we're still building the bamboo hut. We've got all day," Ji Hoo said after he finished giving his instructions to Secretary Park, his lips curling into a faint smile at the hopeful expression on Jan Di's face.
Jan Di clapped her hands together excitedly. "Yes! I've been thinking about it all morning. Imagine, we could even make a little fireplace inside the hut! Maybe we can try roasting marshmallows, or—"
Ji Hoo raised a hand, chuckling softly. "Okay, okay, I get it. Calm down, Jan Di." He could see her gears turning as she fantasized about what the day might hold. The thought of building a hut together, surrounded by nature, seemed to spark something in her that he couldn't resist. Despite his usual calm and reserved nature, he found himself caught up in her excitement.
"You're really serious about this bamboo hut, huh?" he asked, his tone playful yet warm as he moved closer to her, setting his phone down. "I thought you might forget about it by the time we get there."
"I could never forget!" she responded, giving him a mock glare. "I'm serious, Sunbae. It'll be fun! I'll make sure we have the best hut in the entire mountain." She spun around, her hair swishing as she caught sight of the pancakes on the table. "But first, we need to fuel up. Who's going to help me eat all this?"
Ji Hoo raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "I'm not sure I'm hungry enough for all of that, but I'll try to keep up."
Jan Di grinned mischievously, "You better. You won't want to miss out on my cooking." She grabbed the first plate, carrying it over to him with dramatic flair. "This one's yours. Enjoy the pancakes before I change my mind."
Ji Hoo chuckled, accepting the plate with a shake of his head. "Alright, alright, I'm not arguing with the chef." He took a bite of the pancakes, his eyes closing in satisfaction. "Not bad," he muttered. "You might just be better at this than I thought."
Jan Di grinned at the compliment, plopping down beside him with her own plate. "I told you! This is the start of a perfect camping trip. First pancakes, then bamboo huts, and maybe, just maybe, some adventure."
He glanced at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, let's make today count then," he said, setting his plate down and standing up. "We'll get the food delivered, grab our gear, and hit the road. Bamboo hut, here we come."
As they sat across from each other at the sunlit breakfast table, the aroma of freshly made pancakes surrounded them, creating an inviting atmosphere. Ji Hoo, savoring the warm and fluffy pancakes drizzled with maple syrup, couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. However, his enjoyment was momentarily interrupted when he caught sight of Jan Di, her deep brown eyes intently focused on him. Curiosity piqued, he looked up from his plate, wanting to decipher the look on her face.
"What is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Jan Di leaned slightly forward, her expression shifting from casual interest to one of genuine concern. Her brows furrowed, adding a delicate crease to her forehead. "Sunbae, what happened to your ear?" she inquired softly, her voice almost a whisper, as if she were afraid to disturb the moment.
Ji Hoo's heart skipped a beat at her gentle words, realization washing over him like a cold wave. He had completely forgotten that she might notice the small red mark on his ear. Abruptly, he raised his hand to touch it, feeling the slight tenderness from the unexpected bite sustained the night before. Images flooded his mind: the warmth of her presence beside him, the way she had unknowingly nipped at his ear in her sleep—an innocent act that now resonated with a deeper significance.
Without hesitation, Jan Di reached out, her fingers brushing against his ear with a feather-light touch. The warmth of her skin sent a jolt of electricity through him, igniting something he thought he had long kept under wraps. "Did a mosquito bite you?" she asked, her genuine concern shining through, blissfully unaware of the true source of the mark.
Ji Hoo's breath hitched in his throat, the sensation of her gentle fingers grazing his skin overwhelming him in ways he hadn't anticipated. It was astonishing how something so innocent could evoke such a torrent of emotions within him. He found himself closing his eyes, desperately trying to regain control over his racing heart.
"Sunbae?" Jan Di's voice was soft and worried, yet there was an undertone of playful curiosity hidden behind her gaze as she detected the shift in his demeanor.
In a moment of instincts, Ji Hoo's hand moved to cover his ear, wishing to shield it from her probing fingers. "It's nothing. Just a little irritation from last night," he managed to say, his voice slightly strained, betraying the turmoil within. He struggled to meet her gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks from her unexpected touch.
Jan Di, clearly unconvinced by his reassurances, narrowed her eyes playfully and leaned in closer, a teasing smile dancing on her lips. "Sunbae, you're acting strange," she remarked, unaware of the weight of the situation. "Are you sure a mosquito is all it is?"
Her fingers brushed against his ear again, this time lingering a moment longer, as if she were trying to assess the situation more carefully. The knot in Ji Hoo's stomach tightened in response, a whirlwind of warmth, guilt, and longing swirling inside him. The love he felt for her pulsed through his veins with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying, making it hard to focus on anything other than the closeness between them.
He found it increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact, his pulse racing at the intimacy of the moment and the innocence of her touch. The pressure of all the emotions he had kept buried began to build inside him, leaving him struggling to repress the waves of affection that threatened to spill over.
"Sunbae..." Jan Di's voice softened, a hint of realization creeping into her tone as she recognized his growing discomfort. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she said quickly, withdrawing her hand and flushing slightly as she glanced away. "I just... wanted to make sure you're okay."
At that moment, Ji Hoo couldn't contain the warmth and affection surging through him. He finally mustered the courage to meet her gaze, offering her a faint, sincere smile that conveyed more than he could articulate. "It's alright, Jan Di. Just... be careful next time. Mosquitoes, right?" He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood while desperately trying to mask the deeper emotions swirling within him.
Jan Di seemed to accept his attempt at deflection, the uncertainty in her eyes fading slightly. Yet, there lingered a knowing glint, a hint that she understood there was more to the story, as she leaned back into her seat and picked up her fork again. "Alright, Sunbae. If you say so," she replied, a hint of mischief dancing in her voice, leaving both of them enveloped in a moment that felt charged with unspoken feelings.