Episode 19
There had been times when Junyoung, trying to escape her mother’s dawn outbursts, had run out of the house and stood like a restless ghost at the edge of their dark neighborhood. A couple of hours later, she would return to find her mother buried under a blanket, fast asleep.
Her mother was the kind of person who didn’t know how to worry about the daughter she’d driven out like that. And yet, the way she had lost her mind over Junyoung staying out overnight had seemed… strange.
It must’ve been because her mother assumed she had spent the night *with a man.*
Junyoung had seen her mother’s ID card before. At some point, her mother had aged so rapidly that it no longer felt odd, but in truth, there was only a seventeen-year age gap between them.
The reason Junyoung avoided being curious about her father was because she had decided he couldn’t possibly be a decent human being. After all, he’d gotten a girl even younger than Junyoung pregnant and then taken no responsibility.
If he’d died in some tragic accident, then it was nothing more than another irritation piled on top of an already miserable life.
Whether it had been love or something else, her mother—pregnant at seventeen—had completely lost control seeing her daughter come home after spending the night with a man. Perhaps she had seen her younger self reflected in that moment.
Someone like that wouldn’t have been able to sell her body to a man for money.
*Oh Hyesu, you absolute idiot.*
Junyoung clicked her tongue in irritation. Then her ears perked up at the faint sound of rustling grass, like footsteps.
She immediately grabbed her pen and began scribbling vocabulary in her notebook. Soon after, the door opened.
“…”
The breeze that flowed in carried with it the faint scent of Beomjin. Junyoung didn’t even look up, as if she hadn’t noticed anything at all.
Beomjin, staring blankly at her hand scrawling cursive across the page, let out a small yawn and walked over to the sink like nothing had happened.
“Ramyeon?”
“Not hungry.”
“Two eggs?”
“I said I’m not eating.”
She bit back her words sharply, but Beomjin didn’t seem to care. After washing his hands, he noisily began pulling out packs of ramyeon. When she heard the sound of the fourth pack being taken out, Junyoung spun around and snapped.
“Hey! I said I’m not eating! Eat it all yourself!”
Beomjin turned toward her slowly, his gaze chilling. But Junyoung wasn’t the type to back down. Meeting his stare with equal intensity, her eyes seemed to say, *Bring it on.* Beomjin raised one brow in mild amusement.
“You’re in a mood, huh?”
“Yeah, I am. So what? Got a problem?”
She spoke firmly, cutting her words like a knife. Beomjin opened his mouth as if to say something, then shook his head with a sigh.
“You’ve grown up, huh? Now you’re even taking out your frustrations on me.”
“Frustrations?”
“You’re still pissed about what happened on the rooftop, aren’t you?”
*He really doesn’t get it.*
Junyoung turned her entire body to face him, her lips pressed tightly together.
“It’s not because of that. But since you brought it up, let me ask—what the hell did you need to talk to Oh Hyesu about?”
“Talk about?”
His nonchalant tone as he filled the pot with water grated on her nerves. She glared at him coldly.
“You pulled her aside, said you had something to say, and left me there.”
At that, Beomjin raised an eyebrow and glanced back at her briefly. Junyoung’s glare sharpened, but instead of flinching, he smirked faintly and leaned against the sink, his posture casual.
“So what is this—an interrogation? Like I’m a cheating husband?”
“What the hell? Cheating? You think words like that even fit whatever this is between us?”
Her voice rose as she sprang to her feet, incredulous. Beomjin frowned.
“Then what the hell is this… ah.”
As realization flickered across his face, Junyoung’s eyes widened. He gestured toward a drawer.
“There’s still painkillers in there. Take one if you need it. But eat first.”
“I’m not on my period.”
“God, can’t you ever just shut that mouth?”
“Who started it? You’re the one who brought up period pain.”
Her mocking tone made Beomjin inhale sharply, the corners of his eyes narrowing. It sounded like his patience was about to snap, but Junyoung didn’t budge an inch.
Their stares clashed in the air, unyielding.
In the end, it was Beomjin who broke the silence with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, his voice muffled and low as it slipped between his fingers.
“I couldn’t acknowledge you up there.”
Junyoung’s tense expression faltered for the first time. Her round eyes blinked twice in surprise.
“Why not?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Would I ask if I knew?”
She shot back without hesitation. Beomjin clicked his tongue and turned away.
“Then stay ignorant.”
Junyoung’s eyes stayed fixed on his back as he set the pot of water on the burner. Suddenly, like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place, her thoughts aligned, and her lips curved upward slightly.
Leaning her neck forward, she slowly approached him.
“I *hate* when people stop mid-sentence. What is it, huh? Was it because you were afraid someone might figure us out if you called me over, so you used Hyesu as a smokescreen?”
Beomjin muttered under his breath, “Us, huh…”
The frustration that had been simmering in her chest melted away, leaving behind a mischievous smile. She moved in closer to him.
“What? What’s so bad about us? From the moment you threw that basketball, everyone’s been linking us together anyway. Even Oh Hyesu asked if there was something between us. And…”
Her words trailed off as Seungwoon’s face flashed through her mind. He was different from Hyesu. Where Hyesu’s words had been casual, Seungwoon had seemed certain of something.
Beomjin tore open the ramyeon packets and glanced at her as she hesitated.
“If you were that worried, you shouldn’t have meddled in my business in the first place.”
“I *told* you, it’s a sleep habit.”
“Then even in your dreams, you should’ve minded your own business.”
As she raised her eyebrows playfully, Beomjin gave her a look that made it seem like he wanted to shut her mouth with his hand. Instead, he sighed and turned back to the pot.
He always put the seasoning packet in first. Watching him shake out the powder, Junyoung asked,
“But why? Why would it be such a big deal if people knew we were close?”
“You really don’t know?”
Beomjin’s words stopped midway as if he’d realized what her reply would be. Junyoung tilted her head with an impish grin.
In truth, she already understood. Their connection was tied to this house. If people started paying attention to them, this place might be exposed too.
Losing this house was the one thing that couldn’t happen.
“It wouldn’t do you any good to be associated with me.”
Junyoung’s eyes flicked up at his dry, matter-of-fact tone. He wasn’t even looking at her, his gaze fixed on the water tinted red by the seasoning.
It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.
Junyoung leaned a little closer, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.
“Why? Because of your reputation? I don’t care about that.”
“I do. And so do other people.”
Beomjin furrowed his brow and gently shoved her head back.
“Now move. You’re gonna burn your hair.”
Pushed back, Junyoung pouted as she turned away. Her face felt hot from standing so close to the flame.
*Why is this?*
She should’ve felt her irritation fade by now, should’ve been able to sit quietly and focus on her book. But she didn’t want to leave Beomjin’s side. Her chest felt light and fluttery.
Clearing her throat, she peeked over at him.
“I mean, how could you just leave me like that? What if those guys hadn’t let me go so easily?”
Beomjin let out a scoff, shaking his head.
“You? You, who kicked me? No way you couldn’t get out of there.”
“That’s *you*. You don’t try anything weird with me.”
The words slipped out before she realized how they sounded. She quickly glanced at Beomjin.
“Weird?”
His eyes, which had been on the pot, slowly turned to her. His thick brows sharpened into a hard line, and his voice came out low and rough, scraping like gravel.
“What kind of ‘weird’ things?”
A chill ran down Junyoung’s spine. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look at her like that before.
His long, clear-cut eyes and dark irises weren’t any different from usual, but somehow her entire body went rigid, sensing the barely restrained violence in his gaze.
*How the hell was I just bickering with someone like this a second ago?*
“Did those bastards do something to you?”
His voice was almost lazy, but there was a sharp hook in his tone, like it was ready to snatch her by the throat at any moment.
Even without raising his voice, Beomjin’s mere use of coarse language was enough to make the air feel heavy.
Junyoung swallowed hard, retreating a step. Her lips parted awkwardly.
“They… called me pretty.”
A crease formed between Beomjin’s brows as he fell silent for a moment.
“…What?”
“I’ll just have one egg. Make it spicy.”
Junyoung blurted the words like she was reading a script, then strode over to her chair and plopped down. She thought she felt his gaze following her, but she flipped open her book and gripped her pen as if nothing had happened.
His attention finally shifted back to the pot.
*My heart. What the hell is wrong with my heart?*
It was pounding like she’d just run a marathon. Her face was probably beet red, the heat creeping all the way down the back of her neck.
*Get it together, Yoon Junyoung. Seriously. Get a grip.*
Taking slow, silent breaths so Beomjin wouldn’t notice, Junyoung stared fiercely at the squiggly English words on the page.
Normally, she prided herself on solving any problem quickly, but for the first time, her mind was drawing a total blank.
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