Episode 11
Youngin forced her heavy eyelids open as if a boulder was pressing them down.
Her mind felt foggy, her body limp and sluggish. As her blurry vision slowly cleared, an unfamiliar ceiling came into view.
*Where… am I?*
Her gaze drifted across the room, scanning her surroundings carefully. Then realization struck.
*Why am I here…?*
Fragments of memory floated to the surface as she struggled to piece them together.
She vaguely remembered Haeyoon supporting her out of the private room. Then, Cha Seonghyeok’s face in the driver’s seat flickered through her mind.
Just then, a familiar voice pierced her daze.
“Awake?”
That voice told her this wasn’t an unfamiliar place at all—but one she hadn’t been to in a long time.
Her memory jolted back three years.
Cha Seonghyeok, always full of energy no matter how relentlessly he pushed her the night before.
*”You never exercise, so I’m just helping you get a workout.”*
She could almost hear his shameless words echoing in her ears.
Caught up in the memory, Youngin suddenly snapped back to the present and sat bolt upright.
*No way!*
Her wide eyes darted downwards in alarm.
The moment she saw she wasn’t naked, the tension in her hunched shoulders melted away in relief.
“What are you doing?”
But before she could fully relax, Seonghyeok moved closer to the bed, making her instinctively scoot back.
Her back hit the headboard just as he perched on the edge of the mattress. A fresh, crisp scent—like a cool forest—drifted into her nose, a smell that suited him perfectly.
“Why? You think I’d take advantage of someone blackout drunk?”
“…”
She wanted to say *“It’s not impossible”* but the words caught in her throat. The problem was that her true feelings were written all over her face.
A faint crease formed between Seonghyeok’s brows.
“What do you take me for?”
“…”
She knew better than anyone that Cha Seonghyeok wasn’t the kind of man to stoop so low. And yet, she’d dared to suspect him. Feeling guilty, Youngin lowered her gaze like a child scolded for misbehavior.
“I’m not trash. I’d never touch a drunk woman—unless she wanted me to.”
At that, Youngin’s head shot up, indignation flaring in her eyes.
“As if I’d ever want that!”
“You never know with people. Don’t be so sure.”
*Not another argument…*
Even the thought of sparring with him again made her feel exhausted. With a deep sigh, she dropped her gaze—only to realize Seonghyeok wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Her eyes, which had lingered on his firm chest out of sheer habit, flew downward in a panic.
“…Could you put some clothes on?”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him like this before, but the familiarity only made her embarrassment worse now that she noticed.
“I just got out of the shower. I came to check on you in case you woke up.”
As Seonghyeok started to rise, he noticed her eyes fixed on the bottle of water in his hand. A small smile tugged at his lips as he twisted the cap and held it out to her.
“Drink.”
Youngin didn’t refuse. She couldn’t.
Her lips were parched, her throat dry and burning. Even if this had been handed to her by her worst enemy, she would’ve taken it.
The sound of her gulping filled the quiet room.
When her head finally fell back into place, two-thirds of the water was gone.
Seonghyeok tore his gaze away from her slender, pale neck with effort. The faint flicker of heat in his eyes quickly dimmed.
He took the bottle from her hand and downed the remaining water himself.
Finishing whatever Youngin left behind was second nature to him—not because he was easygoing or hated wasting things.
If anyone else handed him leftover food or drink, he’d take it as an insult. But with Youngin, it felt different. Hers was the only “foreign” saliva in the world that didn’t repulse him.
Thanks to Seonghyeok defusing the tension so naturally, Youngin momentarily forgot what they’d been talking about—or that he was still shirtless.
As her thirst eased, questions began bubbling up in her mind.
“Sunbae, why am I here? I was with Haeyoon…”
“I told her I’d take you home. You agreed.”
He corrected himself immediately.
“Actually, it wasn’t ‘agreeing.’ You *chose* me.”
Youngin’s eyes went wide.
“I… I did?”
“When Haeyoon asked who you wanted to go with, you said my name. Loud and clear.”
“…”
She furrowed her brow, digging through her memory. Nothing came to mind.
“If you don’t believe me, ask Haeyoon.”
But she didn’t need to. She didn’t think he was lying.
Still, the thought that she’d chosen Cha Seonghyeok—*even unconsciously*—left her deeply unsettled.
She’d tried to convince herself her feelings were nothing but leftover attachment to a relationship she’d already severed. This blew that flimsy excuse apart.
Facing the feelings she’d been desperate to ignore wasn’t pleasant. It felt like she’d exposed her bare soul—not just to him, but to herself.
“That aside… how did you even see me there?”
She forced her face into an indifferent mask, though her lips twitched nervously.
“At the lounge bar.”
“What were *you* doing there?”
“Meeting a friend.”
“Meeting a friend… and yet you asked me to have dinner with you last night?”
“I got bored after you turned me down. So I moved my plans up to yesterday.”
Youngin let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“And you make *me* sound cold for refusing you on such short notice.”
“Fine, I’ll give you more notice next time.”
He smiled faintly and added:
“Let’s have dinner tomorrow.”
Youngin shot him a sideways glare, annoyed by how quick he was to seize the moment. She decided to change the subject.
“Was the lounge bar the original plan with your friend?”
“No. The place we planned was somewhere else. But people said this new spot was trendy, so I switched it last minute.”
“Liar.”
“Yeah. I lied.”
Then, without hesitation, he confessed:
“I went because I was worried. That jerk Ji Seungchan—I was afraid he’d try something with you.”
“Why would that matter to *you*? Whatever that jerk does, it’s none of your business.”
“You already know why, so why ask?”
“…”
Youngin bit her lip.
She hadn’t asked because she didn’t know. She’d asked to tell him not to care. But instead of backing off, he doubled down.
“Don’t play drinking games anymore.”
“I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t exactly refuse when everyone was involved.”
It wasn’t like she’d had time to resist. With Haeyoon there, she felt safe—and before she knew it, penalty shots had hit her hard. She wouldn’t let it happen again. But still, part of her felt unjustly accused.
“If you really have to, call me. I’ll be your black knight.”
“…”
For a moment, Youngin imagined Seonghyeok swooping in as her “black knight.” The thought of everyone’s jaws dropping almost made her laugh.
“If you don’t call me, then from now on only drink with me.”
“I quit. I won’t drink anymore.”
“…”
Seonghyeok swallowed the words *“you don’t need to quit”* before they left his mouth. A selfish part of him wanted to see her disarmed and vulnerable like this again.
“Anyway, why bring me *here*? You know where I live.”
“If I’d dropped you off at home, wouldn’t your family have freaked out? I wouldn’t care, but I figured you would. So I brought you to my place. Was that wrong?”
*Waking up drunk in an ex-boyfriend’s bed isn’t exactly normal…* But when she pictured her sister screaming and fussing, she found she couldn’t blame him for his decision.
“Bringing me here was fine. But your house has a guest room.”
“Why would I put you in the guest room? You’re not a guest.”
“Then what am I? An acquaintance?”
“You’re neither a guest nor an acquaintance. You’re… much closer than that.”
“We *were* close. Not anymore.”
Youngin’s voice was sharp, cutting off any room for misunderstanding. She needed him to understand that what they had was over—and needed herself to believe it, too.
If she didn’t stop him now, it would only get harder later.
Not that it would matter. He wasn’t the type to stop.
“Fine. Not now.”
Seonghyeok was the kind of man who knew how to take one step back to move two steps forward.
At least when it came to Chae Youngin.
Technically, she wasn’t wrong. Their closeness was in the past—not the present. But she hadn’t mentioned the future. If he was being precise, they were *about to* be close again.
“You didn’t treat me like a host, either, so let’s call it even.”
Youngin jumped on the bait he’d tossed out.
“What did I do?”
“You kept calling me ‘hey, you’ and ‘ya.’ Not very guest-like.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“I did?”
That was the second time she’d asked that today.
“Who else? Don’t remember a thing?”
“…”
Her darting eyes suddenly froze. A faint memory of her speaking informally to him surfaced.
Noticing her expression, Seonghyeok smirked.
“So you *do* remember.”
“No. Not at all.”
She denied it flatly. If she’d known he’d use it against her, she wouldn’t have done it in the first place.
“Then I guess you don’t remember confessing your love to me either.”
Her eyes widened so much they looked ready to pop out.
“When did I ever do that?!”
“You claim not to remember, but you sure sound defensive.”
“I would *never*!”
She clung to that certainty as if her life depended on it.
“Then maybe I confessed to you?”
“…”
Youngin had no energy left to argue with his playful nonsense. She clamped her mouth shut.
Chuckling, Seonghyeok rose to his feet.
“Go wash up.”
“I can wash up at home.”
“Then come out for breakfast. I ordered bean sprout soup—you like that.”
“…”
Youngin silently watched him leave the room, amazed by how much he remembered, then got out of bed.
(Continued…)
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