"Mr. Hyun-woo!" Jiyeon called as her father shoved another box of kimchi into the car's trunk, balancing it carefully among neatly stacked side dishes. Harin clung to his arm, watching his every move like a little child.
"Good food makes a good mind," her father said, dusting his hands on his trousers before resting them on Jiyeon's shoulders. His voice softened. "Who will feed you when I'm not there?"
Before Jiyeon could answer, his eyes flicked toward Jung-suk, who was crunching down on a cucumber with exaggerated disgust.
"Definitely not him," her father scoffed. "All he does is eat."
"Yah! You'll miss me when she's gone," Jung-suk shot back, pulling a face as he climbed into the car.
Jiyeon laughed, but her smile trembled. She tightened her grip on her father's arms. "Appa, I'm not a baby anymore. I can take care of myself. And please—don't cry when I'm gone. That's what I hate most. That's what scares me most."
Her father's embrace was immediate and crushing. "You're still my baby," he whispered.
A single tear slipped down Jiyeon's cheek. She wiped it quickly before he could see.
"Hurry it up, lovebirds," Jung-suk teased from the car window, his tone light, though his eyes flickered with something softer. "The driver's waiting."
Reluctantly, Jiyeon pulled away. Her father searched her face one last time.
"Everything is packed?" he asked, almost to himself. Then louder, to Jung-suk: "Take care of our Jiyeon. Don't let her go, no matter what."
The engine roared to life. Jiyeon kept waving as the house grew smaller in the distance, her father's figure blurring until it disappeared.
"Come here, princess," Jung-suk murmured, opening his arms. His grin was playful, but his voice carried quiet warmth.
Jiyeon hesitated, her chest tight. "How will I ever get over my fear if you keep coddling me?"
Still, she slid into his embrace. His hand found the crown of her head, patting gently, and with the hum of the road beneath them, her eyelids grew heavy.
Lee Jiyeon had never been able to escape her fear of cars. Since childhood, the thought of enclosed movement twisted her stomach, turned her knuckles white. Whenever anyone asked about the reason, she changed the subject. Jung-suk noticed, and stopped asking long ago.
Hours later, the Seoul skyline broke the horizon. After a few hours on the road, the car rolled to a stop. Jiyeon's eyes snapped open the moment the engine went silent.
"We're here?" she murmured, stretching her arms as if she could push the stiffness out of her body.
Jung-suk had already opened the door, one hand stretched out toward her in mock chivalry. "Welcome to Seoul, madam," he said with a grin.
She accepted his hand and stepped out, filling her lungs with the crisp city air. "As always, Seoul air is top notch," she declared, her voice tinged with awe.
Then her gaze lifted, and widened. The apartment building towered above her, sleek and modern. Her Busan accent slipped out as she gasped. "Yah, thanks to you, I get to live in a place like this!" She nudged his arm, giddy with excitement.
Behind them, a truck pulled in with their belongings. Jiyeon pointed toward it, tugging on his sleeve. "They're here, let's go help!"
But Jung-suk pulled her back with a smug shake of his head. "I hired people for that."
Jiyeon raised a brow at him, suspicious.
He rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "What? I also have money, you know."
Her face softened. Then, with a mischievous smile, she patted his backside. "Good boy."
Jung-suk laughed, shaking his head as she skipped toward the lobby, the workers trailing behind them with boxes.
They walked into the lobby, Jiyeon's eyes widening.
"Do apartments usually have receptions?" she whispered in awe.
"Exquisite places like this do," Jung Suk replied casually.
"Room 404," he said to the receptionist.
"Oh, Miss Lee Jiyeon and Mr. Kim Jung-suk," the receptionist said, fingers flying over the keyboard. She confirmed their arrival, handed them a keycard, and slid a handbook across the counter with a practiced smile.
Jiyeon nudged Jung-suk, still in awe. Before she could say anything, three women approached them.
"Room 404," the one in the middle said.
Jiyeon and Jung-suk nodded politely, bowing slightly.
"Are you two married?" another asked with a mischievous smile.
The question hung in the air. Jiyeon's lips parted to deny it, but Jung-suk beat her to it.
"Yes. Happily," he said with a wicked grin, lacing his fingers through hers and rubbing the back of her hand.
Jiyeon's glare could have burned a hole through his skull, but she quickly turned it into a dazzling smile.
"Yes, we are," she said sweetly, tightening her grip on him.
"Do you like rice cakes?" Jung-suk suddenly asked, striding to a nearby stack of welcome boxes. He shoved one into each woman's hands with a charming smile before steering his "wife" away.
"We've got a lot to do," he murmured, dragging her along.
Their smiles instantly vanished the moment they turned their backs. But as soon as they stepped into the elevator and noticed the women still watching, they plastered their grins back on, clinging to each other until the doors slid shut.
The second the elevator doors closed, they dropped the act. Jung-suk immediately collapsed to his knees, clutching Jiyeon's legs like a child begging for candy.
"Unni…" he said with an exaggerated pout, nuzzling her like a cat.
Ji-yeon crossed her arms, glaring down at him. "Explain." Her accent made the word sound even sharper.
"I had to say it," he pleaded, flashing a desperate grin. "If I didn't, they'd keep pestering us. And you've got a long day tomorrow. And the day after. I was protecting you."
Ji-yeon raised an eyebrow.
"Okay?" he added hopefully, as the elevator dinged to a stop.
"…Okay," she said finally, though her tone promised she'd circle back to this later.