TCE 33

Chapter 33

Having come home unusually early from work, Yoonjae took a brief look around the house.

It was quiet.

The house was big enough that someone could be inside without you knowing, but the silence stretching from the entrance to the living room felt different from usual.

Truthfully, a house without warmth wasn’t something unfamiliar to him.

The only difference was the place. Since high school, Yoonjae had lived alone, and aside from Mrs. Kim, no one ever came and went from his home. All the better, since he hated noise and fuss more than anything.

But this house was prepared for two people to live together.

Even if it was a contract with an expiration date, this was still the home of a married couple, filled with affection and his own space.

[There couldn’t be a better place for a newlywed home.]

As naïve Mrs. Kim had put it, this was a newlywed house, and it had always been full of affection.

Loud, sometimes frivolous, at times so unreasonable it could make him lose patience—yet all those traces of that woman filled this place. Never once had it sunk into such stillness before.

That was why the silence felt strange.

He didn’t feel her presence—not even the subtle sense of someone being there without coming out to greet him.

Had she gone out early? Even the house seemed to be filled with a chill.

“……”

Joo Ae-jeong.

In just a few weeks, the presence of this woman had turned the silence he’d known for decades into something awkward. He brushed a hand over his mouth.

And assessed himself coldly.

“Crazy.”

With scathing self-judgment of his own strange symptoms, Yoonjae moved.

His head was a mess. He was always a thinker, but today it was especially tangled.

‘Unnecessarily.’

Rather than go to the study, he headed straight to his room.

The method he chose to wash away his tangled thoughts was a shower. He thought if he bathed, he might regain a clearer mind.

But what greeted him was a silent showerhead, as quiet as the rest of the house. Not a single drop came out of the faucet that had worked just fine in the morning.

Creak, creak.

He twisted it this way and that, checked the showerhead itself, but all he heard was the sound of the valve turning inside.

The spotless bathroom fixtures that gleamed without a scratch—yet not a drop of water came out.

A true example of a flashy but useless thing.

“Phew.”

Leaving behind the squeaking faucet that felt almost like it was mocking him, Yoonjae gathered some clothes and headed out to the living room.

And that was why he was in the living room bathroom—where the whole incident of the two of them facing each other naked began.

Complete with bonus eye contact, close enough to see clearly without glasses.

“……”

Her eyes, frozen in disbelief as though time had stopped, captured Yoonjae.

It was a fleeting moment when the sense of time itself blurred.

There had been moments of closeness before, but today felt deeper—perhaps because of the circumstances, or the place.

The room heavy with the scent of Ha Yoonjae’s skin.

The bed sheets carrying his fragrance.

And the touch of bare skin that couldn’t pull away, because of the arm he hadn’t yet withdrawn from around her.

Just a towel separating them—too thin, too fragile. Enough to make a mess of both their heads.

Dangerous.

It was a feeling sensed instinctively. Not fear, but a trembling born from the awareness of imminent risk. Yet neither of them thought to flee.

The moment she faced his still-damp face, it didn’t even feel real.

Drop. Drop.

Water beaded on him and fell onto her skin.

Slow, deliberate drops seeped into her, soaking them both. In the silence, every drop pressed more strength into the hand clutching her towel.

Embarrassment at their nakedness, shame—somehow, those felt like separate issues now.

Tight.

It was a flow where anything could happen and no one could be blamed. What snapped her out of it was the throb in her ankle.

Her lips parted with a gasp as she tried to ease the pain of a slight twist, and for the first time she blinked, breaking eye contact with Yoonjae. She spoke.

“What… are you going to do?”

Even a child wouldn’t say something so foolish after breaking the silence.

Of all things, why blurt out something like that?

But to her surprise, he responded with unexpected mercy.

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“If you don’t want to handle it.”

Handle what?

Yet obediently, without knowing why, she closed them tight.

Damn it.

Her gaze, which had been constantly brushing against Yoonjae, was now hidden. But with her eyes closed, her pale face became all the more defenseless—so defenseless that one wrong move could push things past the limit.

At last, he pulled his arm out from beneath her.

Sssh.

In the process, the towel covering her shifted slightly, revealing the line of a white leg.

No—more than that. The narrowed vision he’d been forcing himself to hold back finally widened, taking in her form.

Beneath the towel that strained to do its job, her bare body was drawn out in his mind.

Wet hair clinging to her shoulders, the slender legs stretched out below the towel, and the soft curves that showed themselves even when hidden.

It all teased a man’s instincts mercilessly.

Caught between restless desire and unexpected yearning, he finally rose, ending the dangerous tug-of-war.

Flutter.

“Mmph—ah!”

As he stood, Yoonjae grabbed the blanket and quickly threw it over her body.

She flailed in surprise as her face was suddenly covered, but Yoonjae didn’t hesitate—he swiftly got dressed.

Then he approached the bundle of blanket with just her head poking out.

“Ha Yoon—!”

Once again, he had no intention of listening to her words. He tugged the blanket from the other end and wrapped her tightly.

Cocoon-like, he lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder.

“Ugh!”

Ignoring her groan from the pressure in her stomach and the blood rushing to her head, he carried her straight toward her room.

“Wait—hold on… why like this, again—ugh.”

Just like that drunken night long ago, she was treated like baggage once more. Her half-complaint was met with a sharp rebuke.

“Quiet.”

The firmness of his tone made her afraid he might actually toss her to the ground if she spoke again.

Sensing that, she went limp, subdued. After a short walk, he set her down on her bed and left immediately.

Click.

“…Phew!”

As the door closed, she wriggled free from the blanket cocoon and poked her flushed face out.

Whether it was from being upside down or for another reason, her face was bright red. She blinked and muttered, lips jutting in a pout.

“Really… so mean.”

Ungrateful words, perhaps, but they were the only “defense” she could muster.

Hurriedly dressing, she cautiously opened her door and peeked into the hall. Before long, she spotted Yoonjae standing in the living room.

“……”

Noticing her peeking out, he motioned with a flick of his hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, she hobbled out carefully.

Step, limp. Step, limp.

“…Seriously.”

Seeing her limp slightly—not badly injured, but clearly sore—he let out a sigh.

But she didn’t know the reason for his sigh, and only fiddled nervously with her glasses.

Clicking his tongue, he jerked his chin toward the sofa.

“Sit.”

She obeyed quickly, no excuses to give, and sat.

Her twisted ankle ached faintly, making her wince, but she clasped her hands neatly on her lap, not wanting to annoy him.

‘Is he going to sue me?’

Her anxious eyes seemed to imagine such a future, and Yoonjae came closer.

Then he sat casually on the edge of the expensive wooden coffee table and lifted her foot onto his lap without asking.

“Uh…!”

Her mouth opened in shock, but before anything foolish came out, she understood his intent.

Surprisingly, he was checking her ankle. He examined the swelling, pressing gently, then spoke.

“Doesn’t look too bad.”

It wasn’t just a careless statement—he seemed to really know what he was doing, checking the muscles and ligaments.

And indeed, after a while, the ache had eased a lot.

Yet his fingers carried a strange sensation that made her feel ticklish elsewhere—an indescribable stirring from deep within.

“Wait here.”

As her fingers clenched slightly at the sofa from the odd feeling, Yoonjae set her foot down and stood. He opened a cabinet in the corner of the living room and pulled out a first-aid kit she hadn’t even known existed.

He took out an elastic bandage.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

His hands moved with practiced ease as he wrapped her ankle.

Not just winding it carelessly—he started from the sole of her foot, carefully wrapping up to the ankle. She couldn’t help but be impressed.

“You’re really good at this. Feels like I’m at a hospital.”

“I learned.”

“Huh? Did you fall a lot or something?”

He didn’t look the type at all.

He paused briefly while tearing some tape, then resumed.

“Maybe.”

Such an ambiguous answer made her bite her lip. She looked down at his face.

His usually neat hair had fallen loose, making him look younger. And he wasn’t wearing his usual crisp, formal clothes either.

‘…It suits him.’

He’d thrown on something light and casual, clearly whatever was easiest to grab.

This unpolished side of Ha Yoonjae—so rare to see—drew her in. She wanted to keep staring.

So much so that it felt greedy.

“Do you spend every day figuring out how to cause trouble?”

When he finally looked up and asked, she was so intent on watching him that she couldn’t dodge his gaze.

“Joo Ae-jeong.”

“…Ah.”

Startled, she pulled her foot back slightly.

“No way. It’s just luck.”

“Luck?”

“Yeah. Every time I’m in danger, Ha Yoonjae is there.”

The words slipped out uncalculated, born of the strange, ticklish warmth inside.

For a moment, his shoulders dropped. The rigid line that always seemed ready for battle relaxed. He rested his elbow on his knee.

His eyes fixed on her without a blink.

“You really think that?”

She never understood everything he said, and didn’t always like it. But this time, she answered firmly.

“Is that so wrong?”

Her bold return made his gaze waver.

Then his lips curved faintly.

“Not at all.”