🔊 TTS Settings
“Ah! I’m so sorry.”
Startled, Ivela pressed a hand against the man’s chest and quickly sat up. Even in a situation like this, she couldn’t help but notice how solid his chest was, like that of a trained warrior. She could tell just from the glimpse of his chest through the open collar of his shirt, and the wet fabric made the firm texture of his skin vivid against her palm.
As the sky, previously blocked by her face, opened up again, raindrops began to beat down on his face. Without much sign of irritation, he wiped the water from his eyes and sat up halfway, bringing their faces close again.
“Are you all right?”
“Do I look all right to you?”
“…What?”
Ivela widened her eyes, taken aback by his unexpected retort. He wasn’t exactly shouting, but his tone was laced with unmistakable annoyance.
“My back hurts like hell. My clothes are filthy. And the rain stinging my face is just the cherry on top.”
“I’m sor—”
“And on top of that, with you sitting like that, it’s heavy down there too.”
“……”
Her guilt at his complaints lasted only a moment before she began to process his last remark. Her sitting position, beneath her, the man, and the heavy pressure poking her from below.
“Ah! I–I’m sorry! Someone was chasing me, and I just ran without thinking—”
Realizing what had happened, Ivela scrambled off him. Absurdly, she hadn’t even registered that she’d been sitting on his lower body until he mentioned it. Whether it was because he was distractingly handsome, or because she was too shaken from the chase and rain, it didn’t make a good excuse either way.
How had she not noticed at all? This had never happened to her before, and all she could do was let out a sheepish laugh at herself.
“You’re the one who was in danger, but somehow I’m the only one who got hurt.”
The man gave her a crooked smile, subtly blaming her. He stood slowly, unbothered by the rain soaking him through. His tall, well-built frame instantly filled her vision. As he tried to brush the mud off his clothes, he winced, clearly hurting his back.
“Oh, that looks worse than I thought.”
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“It’s not just a little pain.”
His muttered words pricked at Ivela’s conscience. The back of his coat was covered in mud, only deepening her guilt. It wasn’t intentional, but the state he was in was mostly her fault.
“Where do you live?”
She raised her voice to be heard over the pouring rain.
“Far.”
“Then…”
Ivela hesitated. There was no shelter nearby, he was injured, and both of them were soaked and filthy. She couldn’t just leave him there after causing all this.
“Would you like to come to my house?”
The man didn’t seem dangerous—and even if he was, she wasn’t afraid. She’d learned swordsmanship as a child and basic marksmanship on the battlefield. Unless he was some elite soldier or warrior, she could handle herself.
“Do you have food there?”
Without even pretending to be polite, the man shamelessly asked. Ivela felt uneasy but, drenched to the bone, she didn’t have many options.
“Probably…”
She thought of some bread, cheese, and a few pieces of fruit as she answered.
He bent down and picked up her fallen luggage in both hands.
“Lead the way.”
He tilted his wet face toward her, urging her forward.
For someone who’d claimed his back hurt, he carried the luggage surprisingly easily.
“Here, dry yourself.”
Ivela handed him a clean towel from the shelf. She tried to act composed, but her mind was a tangled mess. His body and clothes were soaked, his coat was caked in mud, and he was injured. She had spare clothes at home, but he obviously didn’t.
“Do you live alone here?”
He asked casually while drying his face and neck. As she hesitated to answer, his eyes swept around the room. The single bed, two chairs, bookshelf, and desk clearly revealed it was a space for one person.
“Yes. I live alone for now. A vicious dog came into the house, so it ran away.”
“That’s the opposite of me. I was looking for a sly cat that ran away.”
“Out there, earlier?”
“Yes. That’s a path it usually takes.”
He answered offhandedly while taking off his dirty coat. He didn’t seem like the type to worry over a small cat, but apparently he was more attentive than he looked. Her wariness eased slightly.
“Cats are free-spirited. They’re hard to find.”
“It’s fine. I know where it is.”
“That’s good. I hope you find it soon—and without getting scratched.”
He answered her with a warm smile. The pure smile suited him well; even when expressionless, he was handsome, but when he smiled, it had an easy charm that lifted the mood.
He hung the coat over a chair and grabbed an apple from the table. He really must have been hungry, considering how quickly he’d asked about food earlier.
“I’ll give the coat a quick wash. Hand it over—and your shirt too. I can dry them by the fire.”
His clothes were soaked through, dripping onto the floor. Feeding him wasn’t a problem, but letting him eat like that wasn’t an option. Luckily, she had lit the fireplace earlier to dry out the damp house, and there were still embers. She could warm his clothes enough for him to wear them later. Solving this practical issue would also give her time to change clothes in peace.
“The bathroom’s over there—!”
She was about to tell him to change when her words died in her throat. Before she could finish, he set the apple down and, without hesitation, pulled his shirt over his head.
It happened so quickly that Ivela didn’t even think to look away. Her gaze was drawn upward, as if enchanted, and didn’t come back down.
His chest was like a shield, his abs were neatly defined, his sides sculpted like stone. It was like a landscape of valleys and cliffs displayed on his body. Her gaze traveled up his firm skin until it landed on the two peaks of his chest.
“Isn’t that a little too obvious?”
He frowned and stepped toward her.
“My skin’s crawling from how much your eyes are roaming all over me.”
“I–I wasn’t trying to stare, you just took it off so naturally that I—”
She babbled excuses she didn’t even understand herself.
A strange thing—she didn’t feel fear or discomfort at a stranger undressing in front of her. She found him attractive, even familiar. It wasn’t a normal reaction, and that unsettled her.
“You can stare if you want. But…”
He leaned one hand against the wall beside her.
“I want to stare too.”
His lazy voice fell, and his gaze slid down her face. Whether playful or serious, his eyes made her skin prickle as if burned. Reflexively, she looked down at herself—at where his gaze had landed.
Oh no.
The rain had soaked her thin white clothes until they clung tightly to her body, outlining her shoulders, arms, collarbones, and cleavage in sharp detail. In some ways, it looked even more provocative than outright nudity.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm. He was completely unbothered; she didn’t want to be the only one flustered.
“If you want to look, use your imagination. The outline’s pretty clear already, isn’t it?”
Her bold comeback took him off guard; his pupils dilated in surprise. For the first time, his composed expression cracked. She felt a thrill at having thrown him off balance.
Before heading to the bathroom to change, she added one final, decisive remark:
“For the record, they’re bigger than that apple you were holding.”
“Ha!”
He let out a startled laugh, and at the same time, the front of his pants noticeably tented. The wet fabric made it even more visible. The sheer size made her catch her breath.
Her confident position flipped in an instant. She turned her gaze away quickly, but the image burned into her mind refused to disappear. Unaware that her face and neck had turned bright red, she forced herself to speak coolly.
“Would you move your arm, please?”
She reached to push his arm away, but he beat her to it, dropping his hand from the wall and grabbing her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve already seen it all in your head. But you can’t taste with your mind, can you?”
“What did you just say?”
His suggestive words made Ivela tense up. As she glared at him, he suddenly let go of her wrist and stepped back. Ignoring her expectant stare, he casually picked the apple back up.
He rubbed the apple slowly between his palms—not as a meaningless gesture, but deliberately, almost provocatively.
“……”
She was speechless. His behavior was absurd and infuriating, but she couldn’t muster the courage to scold him.
Then, holding the apple in one hand, he took a big, loud bite—crunch—without breaking eye contact, as if daring her to look away.
For some reason, a sharp pang shot through her chest at that moment.
As she froze, he chewed the apple leisurely, then noticed some juice on the back of his hand. He stuck out his tongue and slowly licked it off.
“Tastes good,” he said with a satisfied smile.