As I walk home through the quiet streets, uncertainty clings to me like the cold. The night air bites at my cheeks, and I tug my jacket tighter around my body as if it can shield me from more than just the temperature. Every step feels heavier than the last, my thoughts looping in restless circles.
When I finally reach the tall building, my heart stumbles in my chest.
Lee Ye leans against his car beneath the dim wash of a streetlight. He is dressed to avoid attention. A dark jacket hugs his frame, zipped up neatly, and tailored trousers fall cleanly over his shoes. A black face mask conceals the lower half of his face, and a cap is pulled low, casting a shadow over his eyes. To anyone else, he would be just another tall figure waiting under a streetlight. But I know him. I would recognize him anywhere. There is something about the way he stands, the quiet confidence in his posture, the broad line of his shoulders, the unmistakable silhouette that has etched itself into my memory. Even like this, half-hidden and guarded, he is undeniably Lee Ye.
The wind slips beneath the brim of his cap and teases the strands of dark hair peeking out, brushing them across his forehead. There is something different about him tonight. Something restless. Something vulnerable that no mask can conceal. Time stretches thin as I stand there, memorizing the sharp line of his jaw above the fabric, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the tension held in his frame, and memories rush back in without mercy.
I stop walking, unable to look away, as if caught under the influence of black magic.
Then he turns, and our eyes meet.
The impact is immediate and electric. My pulse surges, and before I can gather myself, he pushes off the car and walks toward me. Not hesitantly. Not casually. He moves with purpose, long strides, eating up the distance between us until he is standing close enough that I can see the faint crease between his brows.
"Seo Yeon." he says softly.
The way he says my name. It slides over my skin and settles somewhere oh, so dangerous...
"Why didn't you text me?" I ask, forcing my voice to stay steady. "You could have saved yourself the trip."
One brow lifts, and the corner of his mouth curves. "I don't have your number."
I blink at him. "You're kidding."
He does not answer, but the faint glint in his eyes tells me he is enjoying this.
I roll my eyes and extend my hand toward him, palm up, as if offering a treat. But then confusion flickers across his face.
"Your phone." I say, trying not to smile. "Hand it over."
He places it in my hand without protest, watching me with open curiosity. I quickly type in my number, then return it to him.
"There." I declare. "Problem solved."
"Thank you." he replies, his voice softer now, almost shy as he pockets his phone. The air between us thickens with unspoken words and lingering glances that seem to stretch into eternity.
As we stand there under the glow of the streetlight, neither of us moves closer or pulls away. Instead, we share a moment suspended in time, with feelings swirling around us like leaves caught in a gentle breeze.
"Seo Yeon..." he begins, but trails off, leaving the words hanging between us like a delicate thread waiting to be tugged.
"Yes?" I prompt softly, wanting him to continue, but I also feel anxiety due to what might come next.
He looks at me intently, as if searching for something in my eyes... an answer? A sign? But then he shakes his head slightly and smiles instead. "Never mind."
I should feel relieved. Somehow, I feel disappointed instead.
"I know why you're here." I say before I can stop myself. "It took quite a lot of thinking for me to decide, but yes, I think it's best I quit as your housekeeper."
"Seo Yeon..." he begins again, heaving a deep sigh.
Silence stretches between us under the night sky, and I can't help but feel the weight of his gaze, as if boring deeply into my soul.
"I have no regrets." I break the stillness, letting the words slip out before I can second-guess myself.
His expression shifts instantly, something sharp flashing in his eyes. Concern, maybe? Somehow, whatever it is I saw makes my chest tighten painfully and in that moment, I wish I could throw myself at him and hug him tightly. If only I could seek comfort in the warmth of his presence.
"Why?" the quiet question arrives, his tone colored by a tenderness that leaves my heart aching.
"It's just something I need to do." I reply, even though my chest tightens. "I need to focus on other things."
The finality of my statement hangs in the air between us, thickening the tension.
He nods slowly, as if absorbing every word I said. But somehow, I believe he is not convinced. Silence stretches again, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. Maybe, a form of unspoken understanding that we both feel but are too afraid to address.
"It's freezing out here." I add quickly, unable to bear the tension any longer. "Come upstairs."
He hesitates for half a second, then he nods and follows me inside.
The warmth of the apartment wraps around us. I shut the door and turn on the lights. "Hye Ri is out of town." I say casually as he sits on the couch.
He nods, unusually quiet.
"Do you want anything?" I ask from the kitchen.
"Water is fine."
I bring him a glass and sit beside him. As I hand it over, our fingers brush briefly, and it feels like striking a match in a dark room. Heat sparks up my arm, and I look away quickly before my imagination betrays me. Wild scenarios of both of us kissing right there on the couch, play repeatedly in my head.
"So, what have you been up to?" I ask lightly, clearing my throat to push back the immoral scenes that just wouldn't stop appearing.
"Work." he replies, leaning back, as he takes a sip of water. "You know how it is."
I nod, the simple gesture masking a sudden, sharp hunger to know everything that's happened to him since we last spoke. "Right." I say, the word feeling empty. "Work."
"Yeah." he says with a slight sigh.
"What about you?" he asks. "Any plans?"
"I'm still figuring things out." I admit, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.
His gaze softens. "You will."
There's an earnestness in his tone that makes my heart flutter.
"Thanks." I reply, feeling warmth spread through me.
We continue talking about trivial things. The weather, for example. Our hobbies. Each laugh brings us closer and closer... But the tension remains heavy, with every glance lingering half a second too long, and every accidental brush of knees sending a subtle shock through me. The space between us feels smaller and smaller with each passing minute.
Eventually, he glances at the clock and stands. "It's late."
His voice is tinged with reluctance as he moves toward the door, and each step he takes feels like a small crack in my heart. Disappointment sinks into my stomach as I walk him to the door, watching as he slips on his sneakers. I wish the night would stretch just a little longer. I desperately didn't want the night to end...
When he straightens and turns to me, the atmosphere shifts.
Our eyes lock, and the world narrows to the space between us. The air feels heavier, warmer, and my pulse pounds so loudly I am certain he can hear it.
"Seo Yeon..." he whispers, almost like a soft plea that hangs in the air.
He steps closer.
The proximity makes my knees weak, and I stumble slightly. Before I can steady myself, his arms wrap tightly around my waist instinctively, catching me effortlessly. My front brushes against his, and the contact sends a rush of heat through me that is both intoxicating and terrifying.
For a second, neither of us moves.
His hand remains at my waist, firm and possessive, while my palms rest against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat racing beneath my fingertips.
"What are you doing to me?" he whispers, his voice rougher now. His breath brushes against my cheek, warm and uneven. "You're so beautiful. So damn beautiful it hurts."
The sudden confession leaves me speechless, and my eyes widen in shock. This is so... unexpected.
His gaze buries deeply into mine, revealing emotions that trouble me more than I care to admit. Without thinking, I lift my hand and cup his face. My thumb grazes his smooth skin with tenderness. His eyes close briefly, eyebrows furrowing as if fighting his inner demons. As if my touch alone is enough to undo him.
Oh, Lee Ye Jun...
"Whatever I'm doing to you," I whisper, "you're doing the same to me."
His eyes open, dark and conflicted. Desire flickers there, but so does restraint. I see the battle play out across his face, silent and intense.
Then suddenly, he steps back.
The loss of his warmth feels immediate and cruel.
He runs a hand through his hair and smooths down his jacket, avoiding my gaze. The tension that had been crackling between us dissolves into something awkward and unfinished.
Confusion washes over me as my heart sinks.
I stand there, my lips still tingling, and my waist still warm where his hands had been. The moment lingering in the air...
I know what's coming next. I can feel it in my bones.
"Good night." he says awkwardly, with a nervous laugh, as if trying to lighten the weight of the moment that has suddenly grown heavy with unspoken words.
Before I can respond, he opens the door and steps out of the apartment.
The door clicks shut, and silence floods the apartment.