Hello! I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to take a moment to share with you the latest chapter, even though it's a bit shorter than usual. I appreciate your understanding, and I truly hope you enjoy what I've put together for you this time. Thank you for your continued support!
The ballroom glittered with opulence—chandeliers casting warm gold light across soft satin drapes, couples twirling gracefully to the steady hum of the orchestra. But beneath the beauty, tension simmered, unseen yet palpable, waiting to explode. At the edge of the room, Jun Pyo sat at the bar, gripping his glass so hard it was a wonder it didn't shatter.
The photographs had burned themselves into his mind. Jan Di and Ji Hoo dance beneath dim lights as if no one else existed. Sharing cotton candy, their faces carefree. And then, the final photo—the one that haunted him—Jan Di and Ji Hoo standing so close their lips touching. His tongue on her lower lip while her lips parted. The tenderness in their eyes wasn't something fleeting. It was something inevitable, undeniable.
He had tried to ignore it, swallowing his jealousy with every sip of whiskey. But now, across the room, he saw Ji Hoo step toward Jan Di, extending his hand with that same quiet, unspoken longing. Something inside Jun Pyo snapped.
His heart thundered with fury, love, and heartbreak all at once. With the alcohol dulling his better instincts, he shoved the glass down on the counter, the loud clink drawing startled glances. But he didn't care.
His feet moved before his mind could catch up, staggering across the ballroom, his pulse a wild drumbeat in his chest.
Ji Hoo stood in front of Jan Di, his hand outstretched, his gaze tender but filled with restraint. He didn't just ask for her hand; he was offering her a safe place to rest—an unspoken promise that he would always be there, whether she took it or not.
Jan Di hesitated. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her breath catching. The air felt heavy between them, a magnetic force pulling her toward him. Her fingers hovered over his hand—so close to touching yet still holding back.
Before they could connect, Jun Pyo burst between them, his face twisted with rage. His hand clamped around Jan Di's arm with an intensity that made her wince.
"She's dancing with me," Jun Pyo growled, his voice slurred with alcohol and anger.
Jan Di's eyes widened with fear. "Jun Pyo, let me go!" she whispered urgently, struggling in his grasp. "You're drunk. Please, stop this."
But Jun Pyo's grip tightened, and frustration overwhelmed him. Without meaning to, he shoved her away.
Jan Di gasped, her breath hitching in panic as her heels slipped on the polished floor. Her arms flailed, trying to catch her balance—but the room spun too fast. For one terrifying second, she knew she was falling, helpless, and exposed.
"Jan Di!"
Ji Hoo was already moving before the shove even landed, his heart pounding with fear. He crossed the room in a blur, instincts sharper than thought.
"Jan Di!" The sound of Ji Hoo's voice cut through the room like lightning, sharp and urgent. He moved without thinking, every muscle in his body responding before his mind could catch up. His heart roared with alarm—an instinct so strong it drowned out everything else.
He sprinted across the ballroom, weaving between stunned guests. Just as Jan Di's balance gave way, Ji Hoo reached her in time. His arms wrapped around her waist, catching her mid-fall, holding her firmly against him as if he had always been meant to.
Jan Di gasped, her heart racing not from fear, but from the sudden warmth of Ji Hoo's embrace. The world stopped spinning as he pulled her close, his breath brushing the side of her face.
"Jan Di, are you okay?" he whispered, his voice trembling with concern. His hands stayed on her waist, steady and protective, as if he could shield her from everything—Jun Pyo, the world, even her own fears.
She nodded, but her breath remained shallow, uneven. Her fingers clung to his jacket, her body instinctively leaning into his for stability. "I—I'm okay," she managed to whisper, though her voice wavered.
Ji Hoo exhaled slowly, his forehead resting gently against hers. "I've got you," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against her frayed nerves. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Her hands slid upward, wrapping around his neck as if on their own accord, fingers brushing the nape of his neck. She pressed closer, her heart pounding against his chest, matching the rhythm of his.
The moment stretched between them, delicate and unbreakable. They began to sway without realizing it, bodies moving to the music in perfect harmony
They stood frozen in the moment, the noise of the ballroom fading into nothingness. Ji Hoo didn't move, afraid to let go too soon, as if releasing her would mean losing her forever. His hands, warm and firm on her waist, gave her a sense of safety she didn't know she needed.
Slowly, almost involuntarily, they began to sway to the soft rhythm of the music. Ji Hoo's touch was gentle, never forceful, a silent reassurance that she was safe with him. And Jan Di? Her hands drifted upward, wrapping around his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his neck with a tenderness she didn't even realize she was capable of.
The air between them thickened, filled with unspoken emotions. They weren't just dancing—they were holding onto something far more fragile. The slow rise and fall of their chests synced as they moved, each breath shared in the small space between them.
Jan Di's heart was in turmoil, her mind battling against the emotions surging through her. She was supposed to love Jun Pyo. She was supposed to belong to him. But in Ji Hoo's arms, everything felt different—too natural, too right.
Tears welled in her eyes, not from anything Ji Hoo had said but from the realization crashing down on her: She didn't want to pull away. For all the moments she had fought against her feelings for Ji Hoo, for all the times she told herself that Jun Pyo was the one—here, in this moment, she couldn't lie to herself any longer. Being with Ji Hoo felt like breathing after drowning.
Ji Hoo could feel the shift in her, the way she melted into him, her breath quickening against his neck. His heart ached, knowing that this moment was fleeting—that the reality beyond this dance would soon pull her away from him again. But for now, he held her close, savoring the weight of her in his arms and the way her hands clung to him as if she didn't want to let go.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky. "Jan Di-ah," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I've tried to stay away... but I can't anymore."
Her breath hitched, her tears spilling over as she closed her eyes. "Sunbae…"
He tightened his hold on her, the desperation in his heart leaking into his voice. "Stop me," he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers. "Please, Jan Di… if you don't, I won't be able to."
Her tears slid down her cheeks, mingling with the warmth of his breath. She knew she should pull away but she couldn't. Not when everything about this moment felt so heartbreakingly perfect.
Their lips brushed together—light and fleeting, just the ghost of a kiss that lingered in the air between them. Yet, in that ephemeral moment, everything she had kept tightly wound within her began to unravel. The gentle caress ignited a spark within her, awakening emotions she had long buried beneath layers of doubt and hesitation.
It was more than just a simple touch; it was infused with unspoken promises and yearnings that had hung heavily in the silence. Each heartbeat echoed with the weight of what was shared in that brief encounter: it bore the essence of a confession, a silent plea for understanding, a bittersweet farewell to the barriers she had constructed, and, paradoxically, a hopeful beginning.
In that instant, the world around them faded, leaving only the intensity of their connection—raw, tender, and profoundly transformative.
At the edge of the grand ballroom, Jun Pyo stood completely frozen, his heart breaking quietly within him as he watched them sway together in perfect harmony. For the very first time, he began to understand the depth of what he had always feared. Ji Hoo's love wasn't about winning her over or taking possession of her heart. It was about simply being there for her—patient, unwavering, and steadfast in its support.
Yi Jeong and Ga Eul, standing just a few steps away from the couple, had also stopped dancing, their movements frozen in time as they exchanged knowing glances filled with a profound understanding of the situation unfolding before them.
"Ji Hoo doesn't love her in a way that seeks to possess her," Yi Jeong murmured softly, his voice barely rising above the soft music that filled the air. "He loves her enough to let her go, to set her free, if that's what truly makes her happy in the end."
Ga Eul's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the bittersweet nature of the moment. "That's precisely what makes it so beautifully poignant—and yet so painfully heart-wrenching," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
At the bar, Woo Bin shook his head slowly, a quiet smile playing on his lips as he observed the scene. "Ji Hoo's love doesn't demand anything in return. It simply exists, unwavering and true, without the need for conditions or expectations. It just is, in its purest form."
Ji Hoo let out a shaky breath, his emotions overwhelming him as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against Jan Di's for what felt like an eternity. "If this is all I get from you—just this fleeting moment—I promise I'll carry it with me in my heart forever."
In that instant, Jan Di felt a deep understanding wash over her. She realized that regardless of what lay ahead for them—regardless of the twists and turns life might throw their way—this dance they shared would remain with her, forever etched into the fabric of her heart, a permanent reminder of what they once had.
It was a moment filled with quiet intensity. Unconditional feelings swirled around them, unbroken and pure. This memory would linger on, cherished and eternal.
A deep, almost palpable sigh escaped Ji Hoo's lips, the sound merging with her own breath in the stillness of the moment. The air between them felt thick with all the words that had never been spoken, laden with a longing that hung heavily in the atmosphere. His eyes searched in earnest for hers, brimming with a multitude of questions and hopes that flickered like fleeting shadows. Yet those same eyes were weighed down by the heavy burden of uncertainty and the fear of what the next moments might bring. Jan Di felt her heart race furiously, trapped in a tumultuous tug-of-war between the solace offered by his warm embrace and the undeniable reality that awaited them just outside the confines of this ephemeral moment.
"Jan Di," he murmured softly, his forehead gently pressed against hers, forging an intimate connection that seemed to suspend time itself. "I've been wanting to tell you for what feels like an eternity… but I hesitated because I didn't want to put you in a situation where you felt you had to choose between paths, between us."
In that instant, Jan Di felt the weight of his heartfelt confession settle heavily between them, a tangible force heavier than any expectation or sense of obligation. It was as if the very air was charged with his sincerity, resonating deeply within her. The gentle flicker of hope ignited inside her, a resilient flame that battled bravely against the swirling fears in her mind, fears that loomed like ominous storm clouds ready to unleash their fury.
"I don't want to choose," she whispered, her voice barely rising above the soft melodies of the surrounding music, yet it carried the profound weight of her heart's truth. "But… I honestly don't know what to do or how to navigate this."
A flicker of sadness crossed Ji Hoo's face, yet mingled with it was a profound understanding that spoke volumes. "Then just stay with me, even if it's nothing more than for this fleeting moment," he replied softly, his gaze unwavering, locked onto hers with an intensity that seemed to transcend words. "Let's not dwell on the future right now. Just focus on the present, just this dance."
As the music swelled around them, wrapping them in a warm, inviting embrace, it seemed to cast a spell that could easily melt away the world outside, isolating them in their own intimate bubble. In that enchanting moment, surrounded by the twinkling lights and the gentle sway of bodies moving together in unison, Jan Di felt an undeniable pull towards him. She wanted to stay right there, forever lingering in the precious space that existed between them, a realm where the chaos of life fell silent and time was rendered meaningless.
The air in the porridge shop the next day was thick with unspoken tensions, an almost tangible weight hanging over the small tables. The sun filtered through the window, casting soft rays that danced over bowls and plates, yet the warmth felt far removed from the chill of concern wrapping around their hearts.
Yi Jeong sat at their usual table, his shoulders slightly hunched as he traced the rim of his bowl with a fingertip, lost in a sea of contemplation. His brow furrowed, reflecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He was caught between frustration and sorrow, struggling to piece together the events of the night before, when everything had spiraled out of control. Each trace of his finger was like a physical manifestation of his thoughts, a slow rhythm that barely scratched the surface of the deeper feelings churning within.
Across from him, Ga Eul fidgeted with her food, her chopsticks hovering above the steaming rice, untouched. Her brows were knitted tightly together, the concern etched into her features. She could feel the heaviness of Yi Jeong's silence, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on her as well. Last night's chaos replayed in her mind—the sharp gasp of Jan Di as she fell, the flash of panic in Ji Hoo's eyes as he lunged to save her. It was a moment frozen in time, a haunting image she couldn't shake off.
The door creaked open, and Woo Bin stepped inside, his usual swagger replaced by an unusual solemnity. He slid into the booth beside Yi Jeong with a heavy sigh, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for answers among the familiar surroundings. His expression was more serious than usual, the playful banter absent, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Did you hear from Jan Di?" Yi Jeong finally broke the silence, his voice low and heavy, each word laden with concern. He turned to Woo Bin, his gaze piercing and expectant, desperate for news. "Is she okay?"
Ga Eul looked up from her untouched meal, her eyes reflecting a deep well of worry. "I was so scared for her last night," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "When Ji Hoo caught her… It felt like everything just froze. His instinct kicked in without hesitation, like he knew she was in danger even before it happened."
Woo Bin leaned forward, his intensity shifting. "Yeah," he replied, his voice tight with the rawness of the memory. "It's like he could feel her falling before she even lost her balance. That's a kind of connection you don't find every day—something deeper than words."
"It's heartbreaking to see how easily Jun Pyo lost control," Yi Jeong added, shaking his head in disbelief. His expression darkened as the recollection of Jun Pyo's reckless behavior flooded back. "He was so consumed by anger and jealousy that he couldn't see the destruction he was causing. It's like he was blind to everything but his own feelings."
Ga Eul sighed deeply, her heart aching at the thought of Jan Di's pain. "That push was so reckless," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Jan Di didn't deserve that. I just wish Jun Pyo could realize that love shouldn't hurt like that. It's supposed to uplift and support, not push you down."
"Love shouldn't feel like a threat," Woo Bin interjected, his eyes narrowing as he felt the anger rising within him. "Jun Pyo is so wrapped up in his jealousy that he doesn't even see what he's doing to her. Ji Hoo, on the other hand, stepped in without a second thought. He made it clear he wanted to protect her, not control her. That's the kind of love that truly matters."
"Exactly," Yi Jeong said, his voice thoughtful yet heavy with realization. "Ji Hoo doesn't see Jan Di as something to possess or win. He respects her choices, even if it means stepping back. That's true strength—being able to let go when it counts the most."
Ga Eul nodded, her expression softening, but her worry still lingered. "And it makes me wonder how much longer this can go on," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jan Di deserves to be happy, but there's so much chaos around her. It's not fair to put her in that position, to make her feel like she has to choose between two worlds."
As they sat in the midst of the bustling shop, their thoughts woven together in shared concern, the weight of the previous night lingered in the air, a quiet reminder of the fragility of love and the scars that jealousy could inflict. In that moment, they all knew one thing for certain: they would do whatever it took to shield Jan Di from the chaos, to give her the strength to choose her own path and the freedom to find her happiness.
That same morning at Yoon Residence—in the courtyard, the morning sun streamed through the windows of the small mobile house parked just outside Ji Hoo's mansion. Inside, the air was filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the quiet rustle of pages being turned. Ji Hoo and Jan Di sat side by side on the small cushioned bench beneath the open window, the breeze carrying in the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling gently in the distance.
Their medical textbooks lay open between them, marked with highlighters and sticky notes, as they reviewed for the upcoming entrance exam. Ji Hoo leaned back against the window frame, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His gaze was calm, moving between his book and Jan Di, whose expression was a mixture of focus and frustration. She tapped the end of her pencil against her lip, biting it occasionally whenever she hit a tricky concept.
Ji Hoo quietly watched her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. In moments like these—when her brow furrowed in stubborn determination and her lips pursed in concentration—he saw the parts of Jan Di that she tried to hide from the world. The grit, the effort, the vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. And it made him want to protect her even more.
"You're stuck, aren't you?" Ji Hoo asked gently, shifting slightly to face her.
Jan Di blinked, startled from her thoughts. "Huh? No, no, I'm fine," she mumbled, waving him off, though the crease between her brows deepened. She tapped her pencil on the page, then sighed. "Okay, maybe just a little."
Ji Hoo chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. "What part?"
She exhaled, flipping her notebook to a section on anatomy. "I keep mixing up the cranial nerves. I swear they're deliberately designed to confuse me."
Ji Hoo leaned in closer, their shoulders brushing. "It's easier if you think of them as steps in a journey," he said, tracing the diagram on her page with his fingertip. "First, the olfactory nerve—sense of smell. What's the first thing you notice when you walk into a room?"
"The smell," Jan Di muttered, nodding slowly.
"Exactly. Then the optic nerve—vision. After smelling something, you look around. Makes sense, right?"
Jan Di glanced up at him, her frustration melting into a reluctant smile. "How do you make everything sound so easy?"
Ji Hoo gave her a small shrug, his gaze steady. "Because I've spent so much time trying to make things easier for myself."
Her heart softened at his words, recognizing the quiet effort behind his calm demeanor. Ji Hoo never made a show of his struggles, but she knew he carried his own burdens, always bearing them quietly. And yet, here he was, helping her make sense of things when she felt lost.
They fell into a comfortable rhythm, reviewing material with lighthearted ease. Ji Hoo would point out small mnemonics and tricks to help her remember difficult sections, and Jan Di, in turn, would mutter snarky comments that made him chuckle under his breath. The morning felt light, even as the pressure of the looming exam weighed on them.
As the minutes ticked by, Jan Di's anxiety started to ease. She found herself stealing glances at Ji Hoo whenever he wasn't looking, grateful for his presence. He had a way of grounding her, pulling her back to herself when her worries threatened to overwhelm her.
"Thank you," she said softly, after a long silence.
Ji Hoo glanced up from his book, his expression warm. "For what?"
"For always being there."
He held her gaze for a moment, his heart stirring at the honesty in her words. "I always will be," he said quietly, meaning every word.
For a brief moment, the world outside seemed to fade away—the stress of exams, the tension with Jun Pyo, the complicated feelings she couldn't quite unravel. Here, in this tiny mobile house with Ji Hoo beside her, everything felt simple and safe.
Jan Di exhaled, her heart lighter than it had been in days. They went back to their notes, their hands brushing occasionally as they flipped through pages, the warmth of the morning sun filtering gently through the window—reminding them that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.
Outside the mobile house, hidden behind a cluster of trees and a meticulously groomed hedge, Yoon Seok Young, Ji Hoo's grandfather, crouched awkwardly. The morning light caught in his round spectacles, but he didn't seem to care that the lenses were slipping down his nose. His eyes sparkled with a mischief that seemed unfitting for a man of his status—or his age. Like a small child caught up in a secret adventure, he peeked through the leaves at the pair inside the mobile house, his heart thumping with excitement.
He adjusted his position, nearly toppling over, but managed to keep his balance. A delighted grin spread across his face as he watched his grandson and Jan Di sit close together by the window, heads bent toward their textbooks. To the untrained eye, they appeared to be studying, but to Yoon Seok Young—who prided himself on his keen sense for romance—there was something much deeper happening. He could see it in the way their shoulders brushed, in the warmth of their glances, in the subtle way Ji Hoo tilted his body toward her, as if drawn by an invisible string.
"Ah… young love," he whispered to himself, clutching the small branch in front of him for balance. His eyes crinkled with amusement as he spotted Ji Hoo stealing a glance at Jan Di when she wasn't looking. "Just like his grandmother and me. The poor boy doesn't even realize he's a goner."
As he crouched lower to get a better view, a twig snapped under his foot, and he froze like a deer caught in headlights. His heart raced—not out of fear but from the sheer thrill of his secret observation. For all his years as a respected man of influence, nothing quite rivaled the satisfaction of playing the spy, especially when it involved his grandson.
Inside, Ji Hoo seemed to sense something, his head lifting slightly, his gaze shifting toward the window.
Yoon Seok Young ducked instinctively, flattening himself against the hedge, a gleeful grin spreading across his face as his heart raced with childlike excitement. That was close!
After a moment, Ji Hoo shrugged off the strange feeling and turned back to Jan Di, who was chewing her pencil in thought. Yoon Seok Young exhaled in relief, sneaking another glance through the leaves.
As he observed them in silence, something tugged at the old man's heart. Ji Hoo had always been distant, a boy who seemed more comfortable with silence than with people. For so long, Yoon Seok Young had worried that his grandson would end up lonely, shut away from the world in a shell of his own making. But now, seeing Ji Hoo with Jan Di—seeing the way his eyes softened when he looked at her—Yoon Seok Young felt hope stir in his chest.
"He's finally found someone who sees him," he murmured to himself. "Someone who can pull him out of the shadows."
Jan Di's laughter drifted through the open window, light and genuine. It wasn't loud or extravagant—it was the kind of laugh that sneaks up on a person when they're truly comfortable. Ji Hoo's soft chuckle followed, low and warm, and the sound of it made Yoon Seok Young's heart swell.
He adjusted his glasses, his grin widening. "That's it, Ji Hoo-yah. Let her in. Let her be your light."
For a moment, the older man allowed himself to indulge in a quiet fantasy—Ji Hoo and Jan Di building a life together, sharing quiet moments like this one, filling the spaces between them with love and understanding.
Just then, his knees began to protest, aching from the crouched position. With a groan, he tried to straighten up, but the hedge seemed to conspire against him, snagging the hem of his robe. He wobbled precariously, waving his arms like a windmill to keep from falling face-first into the grass.
The commotion caught Ji Hoo's attention. He turned toward the window, frowning slightly, just in time to see a familiar figure emerge clumsily from the bushes.
"Grandfather?" Ji Hoo's brow furrowed as he recognized the sheepish look on Yoon Seok Young's face.
Jan Di leaned over, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Was he... spying on us?"
Yoon Seok Young dusted himself off, putting on his most innocent expression as if he hadn't just been caught red-handed. "Spying? Me? No, no. I was... merely inspecting the foliage! Lovely hedge, don't you think?"
Ji Hoo pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh, while Jan Di stared, incredulous.
"Really? Inspecting the hedge?" Ji Hoo's voice was dry, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.
"Absolutely," Yoon Seok Young insisted, puffing out his chest in mock indignation. "I take my gardening very seriously."
Jan Di finally burst into laughter; the sound was light and infectious, and even Ji Hoo couldn't help but join in. The old man's antics were so absurd, so endearing, that it was impossible to stay annoyed.
Yoon Seok Young smiled, satisfied with the result. He had always known that laughter was the best way to bridge hearts, and today was no exception.
"Well then," he said, clapping his hands together with exaggerated cheer, "since I'm already here, how about some breakfast? Studying on an empty stomach is never a good idea."
Ji Hoo shook his head, still smiling. "You're impossible, Grandfather."
Jan Di grinned, feeling lighter than she had in days. "Breakfast sounds good."
With that, the three of them made their way toward the small kitchen inside the mobile house, the morning sun casting a warm glow over them. As Yoon Seok Young shuffled in behind them, a soft smile lingered on his face.
He knew there were storms ahead—heartaches and challenges neither Ji Hoo nor Jan Di could foresee. But for now, in this moment, they were together. And sometimes, Yoon Seok Young thought, that was all anyone really needed: someone to sit with in the sunlight and laugh with over breakfast.
And as far as he was concerned, Ji Hoo and Jan Di were well on their way to finding that kind of happiness—one quiet, stolen moment at a time.
Meanwhile, at Gu Jun Pyo's luxurious mansion, the curtains remained drawn, letting in only the faintest threads of morning light. Jun Pyo lay sprawled across the bed, still tangled in last night's clothes, his mind haunted by fragmented memories. His head throbbed from the alcohol, but it was the emotions from the night before that weighed heavier.
Every time he closed his eyes, Jan Di's terrified expression flickered like a ghost before him—her wide eyes, her breath hitching, and the way she'd stumbled backward from his reckless shove. Then came the image of Ji Hoo catching her in a blur of movement, as if he had known instinctively that she needed him. They had danced afterward, swaying in each other's arms like the world around them didn't exist. That was what cut Jun Pyo the deepest—the connection between them, as seamless and effortless as breathing.
And then the photographs.
He could still see them, sharp and vivid in his mind, just as his mother had intended: Jan Di and Ji Hoo, laughing and close as if he didn't matter at all. His lips curled bitterly. He knew those pictures had been sent to drive a wedge between them, to plant doubt where love should have been, but it didn't make the ache in his chest any easier to bear.
His fists clenched, twisting the bedsheets beneath him. He hated how easily his mother manipulated him and how she always found the right buttons to push. But more than that, he hated himself for falling for it—again. For drinking too much, losing control, and hurting the one person who had stood by him through everything.
How could I shove her? His heart twisted painfully at the thought. No matter how much jealousy roared inside him, he had never wanted to hurt Jan Di like that. But it had happened, and now the memory of her fear was a splinter lodged deep within him, refusing to be ignored.
As the storm of thoughts swirled through his mind, the door to his room creaked open, followed by the unmistakable sound of light, playful footsteps. Jun Pyo groaned inwardly, already knowing who it was.
"Monkey?" he muttered hoarsely, not bothering to sit up or even open his eyes.
"Still calling me that, huh?" Ha Jae Kyung's voice was bright, full of teasing energy, as she strolled into his room uninvited—exactly as she always did. "I figured you'd be in a state today. What did you do last night? Fall into a barrel of whiskey."
Jun Pyo cracked one eye open and found her standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, a smirk dancing on her lips. She was dressed in a chic white blazer and ripped jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun. Somehow, she always managed to look effortlessly put together.
"I didn't invite you in," he grumbled, rubbing his temples.
"You never do." She plopped herself down on the edge of the bed, making herself at home. "But that's what makes it fun."
He shot her a half-hearted glare but didn't protest further. This was how things had always been with Jae Kyung—whether he wanted her there or not, she had a way of inserting herself into his life with reckless abandon.
"So?" She poked his arm. "You gonna tell me why you look like a kicked puppy, or do I have to guess?"
Jun Pyo groaned and rolled onto his back, flinging an arm over his face. "Don't ask."
Jae Kyung leaned closer, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Oh, it's that serious, huh? Did it involve Jan Di?"
The tension in Jun Pyo's body answered before his words did. She gave him a knowing look. "I'll take that as a yes."
He exhaled deeply, staring up at the ceiling. "I messed up, Monkey. Big time."
Her teasing demeanor softened slightly, and she crossed her legs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Okay. What happened?"
Jun Pyo's jaw tightened as the memories flashed through his mind again—his shove, Jan Di's stumble, Ji Hoo's arms catching her just in time. "I hurt her." His voice was low, filled with regret. "I pushed her, and she almost fell. Ji Hoo... he saved her before anything happened, but I—" He broke off, shaking his head as if trying to shake loose the guilt clinging to him.
Jae Kyung's brow furrowed, her playful grin fading entirely. "You pushed her? What the hell, Jun?"
"It wasn't intentional!" he snapped, sitting up suddenly, his eyes burning with frustration. "I was drunk and stupid, and I—" He trailed off, the anger draining out of him just as quickly as it had come. "I was jealous," he admitted quietly. "Ji Hoo was there, and those damn photos my mother sent... It just got to me."
Jae Kyung studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You know, jealousy is one thing, but this? This is something else." She shook her head. "You've got to figure your stuff out, Jun. Jan Di deserves better than to be caught between you and your emotional explosions."
Jun Pyo buried his face in his hands. "I know," he whispered. "I know."
Jae Kyung's voice softened, a rare moment of seriousness slipping through her usual playfulness. "You really care about her, don't you?"
"More than anything," he muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.
She sighed, leaning back on her hands. "Then maybe it's time you stop thinking about winning or losing. It's not about Ji Hoo or those stupid photos—it's about Jan Di. You need to ask yourself if you're loving her the right way."
Jun Pyo peeked at her through his fingers, his expression conflicted. "What do you mean?"
Jae Kyung gave him a sad smile. "If you really love her, Jun Pyo, you have to learn when to fight for her—and when to let go."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. He stared at her, stunned into silence.
Jae Kyung stood up and dusted off her hands. "Anyway, that's your problem to figure out. I've got a meeting to crash. But seriously, think about it, okay?"
Jun Pyo nodded numbly, watching as she headed toward the door, her usual energy returning with every step.
"Oh," she called over her shoulder with a grin, "and maybe next time, don't shove the girl you love. Just a thought."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Jun Pyo alone with his thoughts. He sank back into the bed, her words echoing in his mind.
Loving her the right way...
For the first time in a long while, Jun Pyo found himself wondering if holding onto Jan Di the way he had been was the right thing—or if the greatest act of love might be learning how to let her go.
I truly hope that you enjoyed the chapter and found it engaging. It was important for me to convey the themes and character development effectively, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it.