TCE 20

Chapter 20

Sway, sway.

Through half-lidded, drowsy eyes, the world appeared blurry.

Like laundry strung on a line on a sunny day, the unfamiliar pressure slung over a shoulder pressed down on me, groaning, while I marveled at the strange new perspective.

“The world is upside down.”

Of course, it was my body that was upside down, but in that moment I couldn’t quite realize it.

Once I recognized I was drunk, there wasn’t much I could do. From the moment a familiar face gave up on waking me and instead slung me over his shoulder, the alcohol rose to the crown of my head.

“Ah, so this is what it means to be drunk.”

“……”

“Go slooow. Too fast.”

Chatter, chatter, chatter.

Even draped over his shoulder, my mouth wouldn’t stop. Yoon-jae could only swallow a sigh as he carried me, enduring the nonstop babbling from the restaurant, into the car, up the elevator.

Click.

After exercising patience to finally reach the front door, he set me down on the sofa, shaking me off his shoulder like dead weight.

Plop.

He hadn’t been able to carry me properly, so he dumped me down almost carelessly. But I didn’t notice, sprawled out, muttering nonsense.

“Wow, being drunk means you get escorted home. Wooow.”

“……”

“Everything’s expensive… That lamp’s British, the sofa’s German, the carpet’s…”

How she knew where his household goods were made, he couldn’t tell. Exhaling the breath lodged in his chest, Yoon-jae turned away.

At least he had gotten her home. There wouldn’t be any more incidents like before—

Like her joking around with another man.

[What are you doing?]

The words of a nameless man, who suddenly appeared and tried to take away his target, had already soured Yoon-jae’s mood, pushing it to the bottom.

[Husband.]

With one word, Yoon-jae branded his existence. Ironically, the imprint wasn’t only on the man.

[Why are you so angry?]

When he returned with her limp body draped on him, Joo-ho asked, and Yoon-jae realized with a start that he was truly angry.

Why?

It wasn’t simply discomfort toward a contractual partner. The instant that man’s hand touched Ae-jung’s shoulder, his body moved not by reason but by instinct.

By the time he regained awareness, she was already in his grasp.

Quickly, he found a justification.

“To avoid rumors.”

If gossip spread and someone recognized them, it would be a headache. He had simply prevented trouble in advance. Besides, the place itself had been inappropriate.

Above all, he was her husband—nominal though it was.

“……”

But in hindsight, a question arose.

Crossing his arms, Yoon-jae stared at Ae-jung still floundering on the sofa.

“How did you even get in there?”

The club was membership-only. He had never gotten her such a membership. So who had she gone with?

“I must not’ve worn my glasses. Everything’s blurry. My glasses… no, his glasses.”

That was a question better asked once she sobered up.

Loosening his tie, he let out a sigh. He had fulfilled his “husband role” enough for one day.

But his “wife” didn’t seem ready to let him go.

“Water…”

After a rare moment of silence, her weak, dying voice begged for water.

He nearly laughed at the absurdity, but faced with her teary-eyed expression, he couldn’t ignore her. Perhaps this too was the weight of his unwanted role.

Fetching water, he returned and crouched beside her.

“Uhh…”

With her scrunched face and dry lips, Yoon-jae clicked his tongue.

“Do you realize how much trouble you’re causing?”

“…Don’t wanna cause trouble. It tastes gross anyway.”

There was no point in conversing with a drunk.

He helped her sit up and pressed the glass into her hand. She swayed weakly, barely able to keep from spilling.

Sigh.

With yet another sigh, he guided the glass to her lips.

Gulp.

She swallowed a few sips. Her gaze met his, her black eyes—uncovered by the glasses sliding down her nose—sparkled with a memory.

That night, beneath the wall.

The fleeting touch of lips.

It wasn’t only Yoon-jae who remembered.

Drip.

A droplet of water slid from her lips down her chin, strangely sensual in the way it fell.

The stimulation shook his senses violently.

Warning.

An alarm blared inside his head. He pulled back quickly—only to be caught by a small hand.

“Can’t see.”

Her drunken weakness vanished as she yanked his tie with surprising strength.

Already close, she peered carefully at him, her lips curving upward.

“See?”

Her finger, still clutching his tie, slid to brush his shirt.

Tracing over his solid chest, she whispered:

“Every part of you… is exactly my type.”

The faint pressure of her fingers gathered heat at his chest, pulling his nerves toward her.

Drunken nonsense.

She was too drunk to know what she was saying. It was meaningless.

And yet—

“Ha Yoon-jae.”

He couldn’t stop her, couldn’t resist the brazen force of her hands.

Completely unaware of his torment, she admired the “scenery” before her, fingers trailing higher.

“There’s too much ugliness in the world. Way too much.”

“……”

“So you can’t become ugly.”

It was no joke, but a sincere plea.

From those she had lived with to everyone she had met—ugliness was everywhere. Beauty was rare.

He couldn’t understand her truth, but she smiled.

Her smile shook him, dried his throat, made his chest pound.

“Your eyes aren’t black—they’re a really deep brown.”

She chewed her lips, inching closer.

“Fun.”

Just looking at him was fun.

She draped her arms around his shoulders, leaning even closer.

From this distance, her eyes lingered on his lips—

“This…”

Her fingertip grazed his lips. He caught her hand in a hard grip.

“Ah—ow.”

She whimpered, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he warned:

“Don’t push your luck.”

“……”

“Before it stops being funny.”

His brown eyes turned dark, his tone firm. He wanted her to feel fear, if only briefly.

But instead, her mind drifted to a memory:

[Don’t do anything. Let’s just live quietly, separately.]

[But if something happens to that person—]

[Life might get a little more interesting.]

That had been Ko Woori’s last conversation with Ha Yoon-jae.

What they thought would end in mutual spite had twisted, just as he said.

Heh.

“See? Life really did get interesting.”

With a low laugh, she suddenly shoved him.

“—!”

Unprepared, he toppled back, and in an instant she was on top of him, gripping his collar.

Her soft hair brushed his cheek as she leaned close, lips still wet.

“Be careful, Ha Yoon-jae.”

“……”

“Before I devour you whole.”

Then, grinning playfully, she mimed a bite.

“No… I’ll just take one bite.”

“What? You—!”

Before he could stop her, she pressed her lips firmly against the side of his.

Smack.

Her moist lips lingered there, then she tapped his chest as if it were her own bed.

“Spared you.”

With that arrogant declaration, her breath spread across his chest.

Soon, her movements stilled, replaced only by quiet, even breathing.

Pat, pat.

Her hand absentmindedly stroked his chest.

Pinned beneath her, Yoon-jae, heart pounding painfully, could only call her name like a child.

“Joo Ae-jung.”

“Mmm… no… I’m…”

He thought she was asleep, but she murmured back, rubbing her cheek against him, whispering faintly—

“Ko… Woori…”

Her hand, which had been patting his chest, stilled completely. Only her soft breaths filled the quiet room.

Ko Woori.

[I was strangled to death by some crazy bastard, and when I opened my eyes, I was in this body. Can you believe such a thing could happen in this world?]

The memory of that fleeting confession surfaced. But why now?