Episode 26 – Lanterns & Lies
Morning light spilled golden over Jeju's narrow streets. Vendors opened colorful stalls, scent of tangerines and fresh fish blending with steam from spicy rice cakes.
The team wandered through the local market, cameras forgotten, minds half‑free from secrets.
Dohee paused at a tiny stand selling silver bracelets etched with swirling cranes. Her fingers traced the delicate design, almost without thinking.
"You like it?" Alex asked from behind, voice quieter than usual.
Dohee startled, cheeks warming. "It's pretty."
Without a word, Alex fished out cash and handed it to the old woman behind the stall.
Dohee caught his wrist. "Alex, you don't have to—"
"Didn't ask if I had to," he said softly. "I wanted to."
The bracelet glinted between them. Slowly, Dohee lifted her arm. His fingers, careful, brushed her skin as he clasped it shut. Their eyes met — breath tangled between words unsaid.
---
A few stalls away, Guen poked fun at Kevin over candied sweet potatoes.
"You, Mr. Serious, actually eating street snacks?" she teased, eyes laughing.
Kevin bit into the sticky sweet, face unreadable, then tilted it toward her lips. "You too," he said, voice low.
She hesitated. "Kevin…"
"Eat," he ordered gently.
She leaned forward, teeth brushing the candied edge, close enough to smell the quiet scent of his cologne. For a moment, neither stepped back.
Heat bloomed between them, unspoken and dangerous.
---
Miran trailed behind, hugging a canvas tote to her chest, gaze on the cobbled street. But she felt him before she saw him.
Minjae's shadow slid beside hers, heat rolling off his sun‑warmed skin. "Still hiding, chemical girl?"
She flinched, hugging the bag tighter. "Leave me alone," she mumbled.
He smirked. "You said that yesterday, too. Didn't work, remember?"
Miran's breath caught. "You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn," he countered, voice dropping softer. "Come look."
She stayed frozen. He sighed, reaching to tug gently — not rough this time, but enough to guide her.
They stopped before a small stall selling hand‑painted fans, flowers curling over rice paper.
"One of these suits you," Minjae murmured.
Miran's heart stuttered. "Why?"
He met her gaze, eyes unreadable. "Because you always look ready to run. At least hide behind something pretty."
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "I'm not taking gifts from you."
"Who said it's a gift?" His smirk curved cruel. "Consider it… payment. For not screaming last night."
Her breath caught, words dying. Minjae's gaze softened — just for a heartbeat — then turned away.
---
Later, by the sea, the team walked along dark volcanic rocks, waves crashing white against black.
Dohee stopped to snap photos. Alex stood back, watching her. The breeze tossed her hair across her face. Without thinking, he brushed it aside.
Her breath hitched. "Thanks."
He dropped his hand quickly, ears burning. "Nothing."
---
Farther up, Kevin and Guen stood under strings of paper lanterns swaying in the wind.
"Pretty," Guen murmured.
"Mm," Kevin agreed, gaze fixed not on the lanterns but on her.
She turned, catching his stare. "What?"
"Stay close tonight," he said. "Crowds can be messy."
"And if I don't?" she teased, though her voice turned softer.
"Then I'll make you," Kevin said quietly.
Silence, warm and charged. A lantern floated down, brushing Guen's hair.
He caught it gently, fingers brushing hers as he placed it back.
"Don't make me," he whispered, voice lower.
She didn't answer — just stepped a little closer.
---
By dusk, they gathered near the water, sunset bleeding orange and rose across the tide.
Miran stood at the edge, toes nearly touching the surf. The breeze tangled her hair, carrying salt and silence.
Behind her, Minjae watched, hands in pockets. His gaze darkened, battling something unnamed.
"You'll catch cold, chemical girl," he drawled.
She startled, turning. "Don't sneak up on me."
"Hard not to. You're always off by yourself," he said, stepping closer.
Miran's throat tightened. "Because you keep— you keep doing things," she whispered, voice breaking.
Minjae's brows twitched. "Things?"
"You know what," she shot back, tears threatening.
His smirk wavered. For a second, something cracked open in his eyes — regret, confusion, wanting.
Then it closed again.
He stepped closer until their shadows merged. "Go back with the others," he ordered, voice soft but edged.
"I will," she whispered. "Just… don't follow me."
His jaw tightened, but he stepped aside.
As she passed, he caught her wrist lightly. "Miran."
She froze.
"I won't always warn you," he murmured, voice ragged.
Then he let her go.
---
Night fell. Lanterns swayed, laughter echoed. Street musicians played slow jazz.
The team shared grilled seafood under string lights, warmth pooling in small glances and hidden smiles.
Alex leaned closer to Dohee, low voice teasing. "The bracelet looks good on you."
Dohee's lips curved. "Thanks… for noticing."
Kevin brushed Guen's knuckles under the table, unseen.
And Minjae watched Miran, half‑smile shadowed. When her gaze accidentally met his, she looked away so fast she nearly spilled her drink.
He chuckled, shaking his head. Trouble, he thought. My trouble.
---
Later, back at the villa:
Miran showered, then sat on the balcony wrapped in a towel, hair damp, heartbeat still racing from every look Minjae had thrown her way.
Inside, Minjae stood by the window, watching her silhouette.
His chest felt too tight, something burning where nothing should.
Why her?
---
At the same moment:
Kevin and Guen walked along the garden path, shadows falling long.
"Kevin…" Guen started, then hesitated.
He stopped, turning fully. "Yes?"
"Never mind," she whispered, shaking her head.
Kevin stepped closer, voice softening. "Don't do that."
She looked up — words failing. For a second, it felt like he might kiss her.
But his phone buzzed. He glanced, curse barely audible. "Work," he muttered.
She nodded, forcing a smile.
But as he turned, she caught his hand, holding it just a moment longer.
---
Inside, Alex and Dohee stood on the balcony. The breeze tangled her hair again.
He brushed it back gently. "Dohee…"
She looked up, heart in her throat. "Yes?"
But the words caught.
"Nothing," he whispered.
She smiled faintly. "Me too."
---
Farther away, Minjae stepped onto Miran's balcony, silent as shadow.
She startled. "What— you can't be here—"
He leaned in, voice barely a whisper. "One more thing, chemical girl…"
Her breath tangled.
But he only tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "Stay near the others tomorrow," he murmured, eyes unreadable.
"Why?" she breathed.
His jaw worked. "Just do it."
Then he turned, vanishing into the villa's dark halls.
---
Under Jeju's thousand lanterns, laughter floated — soft armor against secrets.
And somewhere, even the strongest masks began to crack.
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