A Gentle Intruder (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15

“Why do you keep holding my hand?”

Da Jung tugged her sleeve free and muttered under her breath. Then, making a bit of a fuss with her suitcase, shopping bags, and plastic bags, she hurried inside, carefully avoiding Kyung Jun’s gaze.

“Did you get everything right? You always forget one or two things.”

Kyung Jun’s lingering gaze settled on Da Jung’s face for a long moment before fading away. After a brief silence, he seemed to make up his mind and spoke in his usual playful tone.

“Yoon Da Jung, what do you take me for? I’m flawless, okay? Look—three pairs of sleep socks, five sleep pants.”

Kyung Jun pulled out the groceries one by one and placed them in front of Da Jung. She checked them against her notepad, switching her gaze between the items and her list.

“No, you idiot. Five pairs of sleep socks, three sleep pants.”

“I thought you said five pants.”

“When did I ever!”

“Wow. You’re the one who messed up—and now you’re doubling down.”

Kyung Jun clicked his tongue. Da Jung glared at him with aggrieved eyes, then reached for her phone.

“Who’s doubling down? Let me check the message—it clearly says…”

While playfully tussling over the plastic bag and her phone, Da Jung suddenly lost her balance and toppled straight into Kyung Jun’s arms. In that brief moment, she instinctively tried to steady herself by reaching for the floor, but her hand caught the plastic bag and slipped even farther.

Kyung Jun caught Da Jung with his arm before she could fall sideways and pulled her into his embrace. Flustered and unsure where to look, Da Jung quickly wriggled free and blurted out,

“Fine! Okay, let’s just say you’re right. You did good shopping.”

Then she gathered her belongings and went into the bedroom, neatly arranging everything in the storage cabinet. From behind her, Kyung Jun’s indifferent voice echoed.

“Will I use the room on the second floor?”

“…Lee Kyung Jun. Are you staying over?”

“Is that even a question? Should we drink beer and sleep in the living room?”

A short silence followed.

“…No. You’re a guy.”

Da Jung came out of the room and sat down on the sofa. Kyung Jun opened the fridge and popped a sausage into his mouth.

“It’s weird—kind of nice but also kind of annoying. Why are you suddenly drawing lines with me?”

He slammed the fridge shut and turned to look at Da Jung, his gaze deep. His slightly raised eyebrows and protesting expression looked unusually serious. The smile usually present on his face—the one that made him popular with girls—had vanished, leaving behind a dry, solemn impression.

“It’s not about drawing lines. I came down here alone to rest. To clear my head.”

“Do I bother you?”

“…A little.”

Da Jung summoned her courage and spoke. She reminded him that her reason for coming here in the first place was burnout—that watching life and death every day had exhausted her completely. She admitted she still hadn’t fully come to terms with her father’s and older brother’s deaths. As she spoke, she deliberately denied the gentle look in his eyes that kept surfacing between her words.

She didn’t want to admit she cared about him far more than she’d realized.

“You said you’d come every week.”

“Don’t anymore. I can manage fine on my own.”

“So you’re telling me to just leave again today?”

“…Stay and hang out. But sleep at another pension.”

Kyung Jun crossed his arms and looked down at Da Jung at a slight angle. The heavy silence pressed down, and Da Jung quietly averted her eyes.

“Da Jung-ah, we fell asleep together in the living room not even long ago.”

“…”

“Yeah. If you really hate it that much, I’ll look up a nearby pension and book it—but I’ll be disappointed.”

His flat, even tone sounded sincere.

“And I was planning to drink, too. You expect me to drive all the way to that reserved pension afterward?”

Kyung Jun staying over was as light as a feather—or rather, not even an issue at all. Da Jung knew exactly where her real distress came from: she was preoccupied with the man in Room 101.

Why am I like this?

Even the feelings she refused to acknowledge were nothing more than a teasing breeze. Da Jung squeezed her eyes shut. The realization that she’d fallen for him far more quickly and deeply than she’d planned filled her with confusion.

How could she possibly leave him in just a month with a heart this fragile…?

She resolved to become stronger—more resolute.

‘Guys on casual dates have zero patience.’

She erased the voice fluttering in her chest and looked at Kyung Jun. He was staring at her with a slightly downcast expression.

She felt uneasy, guilty for disappointing an old friend. She ignored the flickering emotion in his eyes. She owed him no explanation, nor did she need his understanding. After all, she and that man from Room 101 were nothing—whereas Kyung Jun was her longtime friend.

“…Fine. Stay over.”

“Yes! Saved on room fees.”

When Kyung Jun’s gentle smile returned, Da Jung faintly smiled back.

Yet a lingering unease drifted inside her chest. She couldn’t even name this uncomfortable, restless feeling—only that it felt stifling.

Kyung Jun asked about trash disposal, grill use, and cleaning the sink, but Da Jung, lost in her own thoughts, barely responded. Then a shadow fell long against the wall—Kyung Jun, leaning against it, offered her a morning coffee.

He shimmered—like heat haze on a spring day.

She must be losing her mind. Just then, her phone gave a brief buzz.

[This is Lee Jae Ho.]

Kyung Jun, who had been sorting through their luggage, must have dropped something heavy—it thudded loudly to the floor. Thankfully, that noise helped Da Jung quietly conceal her own heart pounding just as loudly.

Right—what had fallen wasn’t her heart, but Kyung Jun’s luggage.

[Are you thinking about me?] [Why does it feel like only I’m thinking about you?] [Yoon Da Jung, are you secretly a player?] [Don’t play games like that. No matter how many fish are in that pond, I’m still the best one.]

What was he even saying? Though she couldn’t fully grasp his meaning, Da Jung felt oddly flustered.

Had she really been waiting all this time for a text from the man who’d taken her number? Even her own heart puzzled her these days. Emotions were such liars—fickle and unpredictable.

[I am thinking about you.]

She sent a brief reply.

[Am I the only one?] [I’m thinking about you quite a lot—the fact that you’re alone with another man, how casually he touches you.]

Her arm holding the phone felt as if it were floating far away. Her whole body seemed to lift off and fall endlessly through space. It was a strange kind of falling—scary because she wondered if the landing would be soft or hard.

The player here was Lee Jae Ho. A master manipulator.

[I feel like ringing your doorbell.] [Should I come over?]

Just as Da Jung, startled, opened the chat window and hesitated over her reply, fingers twitching—

“Hey! Yoon Da Jung! What are you doing—why aren’t you answering?”

“Oh.”

Da Jung snapped her head up.

“Sorry—I got a message from a friend.”

She quickly locked her phone and looked up at Kyung Jun, who stood holding scissors and tongs.

“I’ve been asking—where are the charcoal and grill?”

“In the storage shed behind the building.”

“Got it. I’ll go get them.”

She reopened her phone. Her heart raced. She almost expected Kyung Jun to come back in, grab her phone, and demand to know who had her so distracted. Even though she knew he wasn’t that kind of friend, she felt inexplicably nervous. This harmless act somehow felt like she was doing something wrong—her chest fluttered.

She wanted to reply, but didn’t know what to say.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type something, yet no words came. If she told the man she cared about that she’d be careful, it might give this ambiguous relationship some concrete meaning—and that frightened her.

But if she didn’t reply, what if he got upset? He absolutely couldn’t come over.

She didn’t want him to find out the man in Room 101 was Lee Jae Ho.

“Da Jung-ah! It’s all ready. Come out—I brought beer.”

[A friend’s staying over.]

She quickly typed a rather dry reply and stood up. As she took beer from the fridge and placed it on a tray to carry out, she still felt unsettled. After staring at her phone for a moment, Da Jung finally added one more line.

[I’m sorry.]

**

The man sitting on the sofa with a slightly fierce expression let his gaze linger on the chat window.

I’m sorry.

In those plain four words, he could see the woman’s troubled face—hesitant, conflicted, blurting out a truth born of indecision. He could almost picture her cheeks flushing without her realizing it, flustered and at a loss.

Separate from his own irritation, the simple fact that Da Jung was apologizing felt like a surprisingly sweet comfort to Jae Ho. That a friend was staying over had somehow become something worthy of an apology to him. A dull ache spread across his chest.

“You really do care.”

He let out a quiet chuckle.

When Kyung Jun’s car arrived, Jae Ho was on the second-floor terrace.

She really does smile beautifully, he murmured to himself, capturing Da Jung’s every movement in his eyes. Her open, carefree smile flew brightly toward Lee Kyung Jun, who couldn’t hide his excitement—and even raised a mischievous hand to ruffle her hair.

Jae Ho clenched both fists. Then, when Kyung Jun stretched out an arm to drape it over her shoulders and took her hand, Jae Ho’s blood rushed so hard to his head that he couldn’t think at all. Only later did he realize he’d already half-turned his body, ready to pry them apart.

In that fleeting instant, what caught Jae Ho’s pupils was Da Jung’s gaze—tilting her head slightly to look his way. In that glance, tossed awkwardly into the air as she tried to pull away from Kyung Jun, lay her heart, already leaning heavily toward him.

And so, he could endure it. Because this was precisely the affection he’d longed for.

[I’m sorry.]

This message, too, was just another extension of that truth. How absurd—even his anger bowed its head like ripe rice stalks. Despite still being annoyed by Lee Kyung Jun’s very existence, Jae Ho managed a small smile.

“Should I make it more annoying?”

Just then, Manager Byung Hoon called.

[Hyung! I’m going crazy!]

“What now?”

[What do you mean ‘what’?! How can you even ask that? You locked me up in this countryside!]

Jae Ho could picture Byung Hoon jumping around, even without seeing him.

[Seriously, there’s literally nothing to do here! They shut off all the lights at night! I’m tired of staring at the ocean! Can’t I just visit you, hyung? Please, I beg you—hyuuuuuung!]

Jae Ho let out a soft chuckle.

[Hyung, hyung—okay, if not that, then at least talk to me about your love life! Is the Perfect Fate Project going well? How was the first meeting? Was the plan a success?]

Had the plan really succeeded?

The image of her clear face surfaced—her round eyes widening twice their size before the blazing sunset. Her expression had said, How can I possibly meet the Lee Jae Ho of my dreams here?

The eyes trying to hide their trembling.

The hands holding back their excitement.

You’ve met your fated man—so what are you so afraid of that you can’t take a step closer?

He concluded he couldn’t yet call it a success. Finally, Jae Ho gave Byung Hoon an errand.

“Do one thing for me, Byung Hoon.”

Byung Hoon, thrilled even at this small task, happily agreed and hung up. The deepening sunset caught Jae Ho’s eye, and he cracked the window open slightly.

A smell drifted in.

From Room 102, the sharp scent of smoke from preparing charcoal stung his nose. His mood twisted sourly. It looked like they were planning a cozy, romantic evening together.