Sora's POV
My stupid, stubborn body refused to cooperate.
I stayed frozen on top of Yeongjae like a malfunctioning mannequin until I finally felt Yejin's arms hook under mine, gently but firmly pulling me up. Yeongjae also did the same, helping me up.
What is wrong with you, Sora? I scolded myself. Get it together.
"Looks like you're still drunk, Miss Sora Han…" Yeongjae muttered, wincing slightly as his fingers brushed the side of his head again.
"I—I'm not… J-Just—" My words tangled with my thoughts, my tongue suddenly useless.
"She's still in shock," Yejin cut in smoothly, saving me from myself. "From what happened. And from what she did to you." She turned to me, eyes sharp now. "Sora, where's your first aid kit? We need to take care of that wound."
Right… Wound first, embarrassment later…
"I'll get it," I said quickly, pushing myself to my feet and practically speed-walking toward the bathroom. "Stay there."
By the time I returned with the kit clutched to my chest, Yeongjae was seated on the couch. Yejin had already dampened a towel and was gently pressing it to his head, her brows knitted together in concern.
"Girl," she muttered, pulling the towel back slightly, "were you a baseball player in another life? You really got him good. This looks like it needs stitches. We should take him to the hospital."
My stomach dropped.
She was right.
The cut was deeper and wider than I'd realized, blood seeping stubbornly despite the pressure. I swallowed hard, guilt twisting painfully in my chest.
Damn it. How much is this going to cost? And worse, how much trouble was I in?
"Let's go," I said, forcing myself to sound composed as I scanned the room. My eyes landed on his bare torso. "But first, where's your shirt? And why are you half-naked anyway? That's also why I panicked. I thought you were here to do something bad to me."
He blinked, then sighed, clearly choosing patience over sarcasm.
"It's in the washer-dryer, it must be dry by now," he said. "You threw up on me last night. After you threw up on yourself."
My face burned. This day is just not going right!
"I needed to wash it immediately because I had nothing to wear. I was informed late of this 3-day booking that I had no time to pack my things. I was planning to get my stuff after I put you to bed until I couldn't anymore. Good thing it was only my shirt. If it were my pants too…" He paused, then added dryly, "You probably would've stabbed me if you saw me walking around without pants."
I let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.
He wasn't wrong.
But, if I'd recognized him immediately… I might've just sat there and let him cook while I watched him walk around my kitchen in his boxers while enjoying the view.
Wait…
Is he a boxer or briefs king of guy?
Oh my God. Sora. Stop!
Damn it! This is not the time to fantasize about him or any men for that matter. Bring him to the godamn hospital right now!
"I'll get your shirt. Then we're going to the hospital." I said before turning around.
"Wait, Miss Han…" Yeongjae said, making me turn around.
"Yes?"
He hesitated, then cleared his throat, his gaze flicking away from me. "You do realize you're only wearing a shirt and underwear, right?"
I froze.
Slowly, dreadfully, I looked down.
My soul exited my body.
Beside him, Yejin burst out laughing, completely unhelpful and far too entertained. Didn't even bother to inform me of my state before.
I yelped and pulled my shirt down, covering what he already saw, mortification washing over me in waves.
"I think you both no longer need me here. Can I go back to sleep now, or do you want me to drive?" Yejin asked in between her laughs.
"You can go," I squeaked. "I—I got this."
I practically sprinted to my room, slamming the door shut behind me and leaning against it, face buried in my palms.
"What have I done?" I groaned. "I assaulted an innocent man and flashed him in the same morning."
I shook my head, then forced myself into action, changing quickly and pulling myself together as best as I could.
When I finally stepped out of my room, fully dressed and pretending I had at least a shred of dignity left, I stopped short.
Yeongjae was kneeling by the food bowls.
My dogs sat in a neat line, tails wagging lazily, while my cat perched nearby like a tiny supervisor.
Yeongjae held a scoop in one hand, calmly distributing food like he'd been doing this his whole life.
"Easy," he murmured with a soft smile. "No stealing."
My heart did something strange.
He looked… comfortable. Natural. Like he belonged there.
Then I noticed it.
The wound on his forehead.
It's already covered with a bandage, but stained red.
I rushed toward him.
He flinched instinctively, he lifted his arm between us, stepping back as if bracing himself for another hit.
I stopped.
The realization hit harder than any hangover.
I'd scared him, traumatized him. Who wouldn't?
"I—I'm sorry," I said quietly. "About earlier. I didn't even help you put a bandage on your wound properly before running off. That was awful of me."
His shoulders relaxed slightly, his arm lowering.
"It's… fine," he said, though his voice was careful now.
I hesitated, then blurted out the thought that had been nagging me. "By the way… You said I threw up on myself. Did you… Did you dress me?"
He blinked, then shook his head. "No. I didn't."
I relaxed, but only for a few seconds.
"After you threw up," he continued calmly, "you undressed yourself. Took off your shirt. Your bra. Your pants. Then you walked out of the bathroom like nothing happened."
My eyes widened.
"You—" I stammered. "I got naked in front of you?"
His lips twitched.
"D-Did you see my—" I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth.
He chuckled softly, eyes crinkling, but said nothing.
Silence stretched.
"Oh my God!" I whispered. "You saw it. Didn't you?!"
"I promise I won't tell anyone," he said, completely unhelpful.
"That's not what you're supposed to say!" I snapped, mortified. "You're supposed to say you'll forget about it!"
"I can't forget what I saw. I saw what I saw, and it's not something that can be easily forgotten," he replied honestly. "But I'm an adult. And a gentleman."
I groaned and threw my hands up. "You're impossible!"
Then I inhaled sharply, forcing myself back into control. "Fine. I owe you. I'll let it go. For now."
I pointed at his forehead. "But that wound is still bleeding. Let's go. It really needs stitches."
I turned to my pets. "Behave, okay? I'll be back soon."
As I reached for the door, Yeongjae hesitated behind me.
"Is it okay to leave them alone?" he asked. "What if another fire—"
He stopped himself abruptly.
I caught it. He must have heard it from the news before, or maybe someone told him.
"It's fine," I said gently. "I have CCTVs, sprinklers, and automated locks. They're safe. I won't let what happened before happen again. I'm more careful now.
Relief flickered across his face.
He knelt and patted Beongae's head. "Good to see you again, buddy. Eat well. I'll be back." He said it in a very low voice, almost a whisper, but I caught it.
What does he mean, again? Does he know my dog? How?