Surprised, Joo Han looked around and suddenly swallowed a scream. Eun Soo was lying face down on the floor in front of the refrigerator door, with a half-drunk water bottle neatly placed in front of her hand.

He was about to ask why she was like this here, but his words got stuck. Her already short skirt was about to ride up even more.

“Ah, really!”

Joo Han quickly turned his head away, and his eyes fell on the rider jacket draped over a dining chair. It had been on Eun Soo’s shoulders when they came in earlier, but she must have taken it off and hung it here.

“Why is she doing this to me? She’s being so diversely harmful. Hey, Sun Eun Soo!”

Joo Han swiftly grabbed the jacket with one hand and dropped it over Eun Soo’s legs. Fortunately, it was able to gently cover her lower half in one go.

“I didn’t realize she was this drunk…”

Joo Han folded his long legs and crouched down in front of Eun Soo, absently scratching his cheek. His mind was in turmoil.

‘She must have held on with sheer willpower while the cameras were rolling, then collapsed. Both of us were tense all day doing things we don’t usually do… Anyway, I can’t leave her like this…’

Just then, Eun Soo’s eyes suddenly flew open. Joo Han’s eyes widened in response as he leaned back, then awkwardly adjusted his posture.

“Can you get up? You should rest at home…”

Eun Soo sat up groggily. The jacket slid down a bit, but fortunately still covered her legs well.

Looking at Joo Han but not quite meeting his eyes, Eun Soo mumbled.

“Was it the seven-year itch?”

Seven-year itch? What’s that about all of a sudden?

Joo Han furrowed his brows and tilted his head.

“Mi Rae asked if we had anything like that. She said she didn’t. So, I just…”

Eun Soo trailed off.

‘…Especially the parts that could be considered Eun Soo’s flaws, they don’t seem to be a big problem for Joo Han. It feels like he really doesn’t mind them much, or even if he does notice, he’s willing to overlook them.’

He knew and accepted such feelings.

Joo Han was originally a laid-back and cool person, but he was especially so with Sun Eun Soo. He never thought of it as a privilege or used it as an excuse to become the superior one. He was sufficiently grateful, happy, and sometimes felt miserable because of it.

‘But on the contrary, Eun Soo is a bit more doubtful. She thinks a lot too. For Joo Han, it’s just because it’s you, just because he likes you, it works, but for Eun Soo, it doesn’t work well.’

It really didn’t work well. She never doubted her feelings of affection, but as her feelings grew stronger, the shadows within them deepened as well.

Why do you like me?

How far can we go?

Emotions are invisible, but the changing situations and conditions were all too visible. The widening gap caused by these seemed impossible to bridge.

But was what she thought she knew then really knowledge?

Was what she said wasn’t true then still not true now?

“If, at that time… I mean, if we could have overcome it, maybe…”

Joo Han’s face hardened coldly as he mulled over Eun Soo’s words, which kept faltering and fading.

If she meant to say that they shouldn’t have broken up like that back then.

He felt his fingertips grow cold.

He absolutely didn’t want to hear it like this. Knowing that Eun Soo was drunk enough to bring this up, there was a high chance she wouldn’t remember tomorrow, which made it even worse.

“Don’t say it. You won’t even remember.”

Joo Han’s voice came out colder and rougher than even he expected. Eun Soo shook her head.

“No. I remember.”

Eun Soo’s gaze slowly moved from Joo Han’s eyes to his nose, then to his chin.

“I wish I didn’t… but I remember too much. The memories.”

Even as she thought her voice sounded strange, as if it belonged to someone else, Eun Soo continued to speak, half unconsciously.

“Being like this, keep telling lies, it keeps bringing back memories…”

Joo Han pressed his forehead with one hand. His head throbbed. An indescribable emotion churned inside him.

Don’t listen. Don’t take it to heart. It’s just drunk talk.

But they say in vino veritas…

“Back then… I shouldn’t have said that.”

Hearing those words that finally escaped like a sigh, Joo Han’s expression grew as cold as it could possibly be.

“You really…”

That’s exactly the kind of thing you shouldn’t say.

Joo Han stood up. He rubbed his face a few times with his dry hands and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. He thought he should just pretend he didn’t hear and bring her a change of clothes, that he should leave the room, but his mouth moved on its own.

“If you’re going to keep talking, say it properly. What do you regret, why are you doing this? Whatever you’re saying you shouldn’t have done, let’s say you didn’t do it. Then what changes?”

Eun Soo’s eyes, which had widened slightly in surprise, lowered heavily.

After quite a long silence, Eun Soo put her hand on the floor and stood up. She staggered slightly but steadied herself by grabbing the nearby refrigerator.

A small flash of light sharply pierced Joo Han’s vision for a moment. It was light reflecting off the ring on Eun Soo’s finger.

“You’re right. Nothing would change even if I said it… I’m sorry for saying unnecessary things.”

“Sun Eun Soo.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Joo Han’s eyes twisted as he watched Eun Soo turn away from him. His jaw clenched tightly.

“Why again.”

At the low, almost growling word, and the hand grabbing her arm, Eun Soo turned back in surprise.

“Really, you, why again!”

Joo Han’s hand, which had been tightly gripping Eun Soo’s arm, fell limply.

“Please don’t say you’re leaving in front of me. When I hear those words, I dream. In my dreams, I hear you saying you’re leaving again, and I’m still there again.”

This wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean to shout either.

Joo Han’s lips were chewed between his teeth.

“…Let’s go together. I’ll take you home.”

Joo Han walked past Eun Soo, who was standing motionless. Heading towards the entrance, he realized Eun Soo wasn’t following and turned his head. Then he froze.

Drip, drop.

Joo Han’s heart sank as he saw tears falling down Eun Soo’s cheeks.

His mind went blank. He felt like he should say something, but his chest to his throat felt so tight he couldn’t open his mouth.

Drawn as if by magnetism, Joo Han stood in front of Eun Soo. Tears welled up in Eun Soo’s unblinking eyes and fell in a torrent. It was like a gray screen with the sound turned off.

Joo Han stretched out his arms. He wrapped them around Eun Soo’s shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. He thought she would push him away, but Eun Soo remained still like a doll. Joo Han’s chest silently grew damp.

Why are we doing this?

What’s fake, and what’s real?

Joo Han pulled Eun Soo slightly away from his chest. He was still holding her arms just below her shoulders.

I didn’t understand you then, and I still don’t understand you now.

But, then and now, I still only know you.

Joo Han’s head tilted downward. He paused for a moment, close enough that their noses almost touched, then pressed his lips against Eun Soo’s.

A sad and sweet taste of tears.

Feeling the soft, melting sensation, Joo Han exhaled the breath he had been holding. Eun Soo’s lips parted without resistance, and Joo Han delved into the gap.

Eun Soo’s hands, which had been hesitating in mid-air, grabbed the hem of his clothes near his waist, then moved to his back. As her careful touch enveloped his broad back, Joo Han’s upper body was drawn to Eun Soo as if it had been waiting, pressing even closer.

Something welled up while simultaneously a deep sense of relief spread. Like returning to where one should be after wandering far away.

Eun Soo’s tightly closed eyes turned a rosy red, and Joo Han’s eyelashes, which had opened slightly in disbelief, trembled finely.

After a brief moment of awkwardness as if it were their first time, their lips locked in a familiar angle and their tongues intertwined dizzily. A tingling sensation surged as lights flickered behind tightly closed eyes. In an instant, as if turning back time, it was hot again like back then.

Following old habits and instincts, they traced, embraced, and sucked on each other’s deep and tender places. The intimate sounds made each time wet skin touched and separated sparked like electricity, igniting fires here and there.

The temperature of desire grew hotter, becoming uncontrollably persistent. Breath sounds, so deeply mixed that it was impossible to distinguish whose they were, escaped roughly between frantically swallowing and being swallowed.

After a long while, their lips finally parted. Rapid breathing continued for some time. Joo Han’s t-shirt, which Eun Soo had been clutching, was terribly wrinkled, and Joo Han’s hand had tangled in Eun Soo’s hair, cradling the back of her neck.

Their eyes met amidst the still sticky mingling of breaths.

After gazing at Joo Han’s eyes, brimming with countless emotions, Eun Soo slowly closed her eyes. At the same time, the strength seemed to leave her body with a thud.

“…!”

Joo Han quickly caught Eun Soo as she was about to collapse.

“Eun Soo.”

Instead of a response, only faint breathing could be heard. Eun Soo’s body, leaning limply against him, was hot as if she had a fever.

A long sigh escaped from Joo Han’s lips, unable to fully embrace or let go of Eun Soo.

Kim Joo Han’s scent.

In her half-sleep, Eun Soo had such a thought. Olfactory memory is quite peculiar, often vividly reviving very old memories or something long forgotten with just a whiff of a familiar scent.

The faint aroma rising from the soft place where her nose was buried now reminded her of Joo Han’s clothes that she used to borrow occasionally or the bed they used to lie on side by side…

“Gasp…!”

Eun Soo sat up abruptly. She had hoped it wasn’t the case, but she really was wearing someone else’s clothes and lying in someone else’s bed.

The loose short-sleeved t-shirt with a familiar logo was Joo Han’s. Although it was her first time in the bedroom, given the circumstances and the smell, it was definitely Joo Han’s bed.

‘This isn’t a dream… Damn, why isn’t it? It should be a dream…!’

Feeling like she wanted to cry, Eun Soo threw off the blanket and first checked the time before leaving the room. She had expected to face a storm of scolding or an icy glare, but Joo Han was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t in the living room, the kitchen, or anywhere else in the house.

“What? Did he go out…?”

Come to think of it, there had been no sign of anyone outside even before she opened the door.

Her first instinct was to use this opportunity to flee home, but she would see him at work anyway.

Sighing as she paced the living room, Eun Soo took out her phone and made a call. After three or four rings, Joo Han’s voice, slightly hoarser than usual, came through, and she immediately asked:

“Where are you?”

―At the studio.

“How sneaky to leave alone. You should have woken me up. I don’t remember well how I fell asleep… Did I make any mistakes?”

After an anxious silence, a sigh that sounded like it might blow the phone away came through.

―Should I say you did to make you anxious, or should I say you didn’t to make you anxious?

“Hey, are you joking?”

―Does it sound like a joke?

Eun Soo winced and lowered her eyes. When there was no sound from the other end of the line, she thought the call might have disconnected and was about to pull the phone away from her ear when a quiet answer came through.

―You did, make a mistake.

The color drained from Eun Soo’s face.