The villa was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft breathing of three bodies tangled in the sheets. Morning light crept in through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold.
Ji-hye stirred first. Her eyelashes fluttered as her cheek pressed against something warm and solid. When her vision cleared, she realized she was nestled in Joon-ho's arm, her head resting on his chest, his steady heartbeat drumming against her ear. His scent lingered on the sheets, on her skin, even in her lungs—clean soap mixed with the faint musk of last night.
For a long moment, she stayed still, just listening. Her lips curved into a soft smile.
