EPISODE SEVEN

The morning sun, filtering through the narrow gaps in the heavy curtains, mingled with the soft hum of the air conditioning and the insistent chirp of her alarm, jolting her awake.

With a drawn–out, weary groan, she blindly reached for her phone, nestled on her pillow where it had remained all night. It was a constant presence, close enough for her boyfriend to hear her breathing—a risky habit considering the potential radiation, but one she tolerated for his comfort.

She stretched, limbs flailing, attempting to dispel the lingering sleepiness and inadvertently ruffling the bed sheet beneath her.

Then, she stilled, her gaze fixed on the white ceiling, unblinking, like a statue. She mentally braced herself for the day ahead—another long stretch at school, where chaos seemed to be the students' primary pursuit.

A prolonged sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her hair disheveled, Han Wool's shirt hanging loosely on her frame. The faint, familiar scent of his cologne lingered, a constant reminder of him.

Han Wool was undoubtedly in the living room, across from her father, as he was every morning. Hae Soo didn't need to check to know he was there. His presence was a daily ritual.

Yet, she still craved that first glimpse before facing the day. It was an unspoken comfort, a simple sight that promised to brighten whatever followed.

And so, she found herself drifting towards the living room, her steps slow and deliberate. She passed the hallway walls, adorned with her mother's framed paintings.

As she reached the hallway's end, her steps faltered. Her eyes landed on her boyfriend, whose head turned instantly, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly.

Han Wool's eyes drifted down to her, to his shirt draped loosely over her. Of course she wore my shirt, he thought, a fleeting smirk playing on his lips.

Hae Soo smiled, noticing his gaze lingering on the garment. She recalled their conversation from the previous night.

No words passed between them, nor were they needed. Hae Soo didn't even glance at her father, seated across from Han Wool. She simply retreated to her bedroom.

A short while later, she stood before her mirror, assessing her reflection. Her long hair flowed over her shoulder, and her uniform was impeccably ironed, without a single crease. Her appearance was as polished as ever.

She returned to the living room, where her father now stood, donning his black, crisply ironed blazer. Her mother stood before him, adjusting his tie.

The scene was commonplace, a familiar ritual that evoked no particular emotion in her. Just another daily occurrence.

Han Wool rose, bowing his head slightly as her father walked past, barely acknowledging him. Her mother followed, seeing him off at the door.

Her father never bothered with farewells. Not to his wife, his daughter, or even the constant guest who watched him leave every morning. It was his nature—to disregard everyone around him, even his own family. A mere glance seemed too arduous a task for him.

Hae Soo didn't mind. She was accustomed to it. Sometimes, she even struggled to recall the sound of his voice. She could swear she heard Han Wool's driver speak more than her own father.

But it didn't bother her. She had no desire to hear his voice, as it only ever delivered orders or pronouncements of his displeasure.

"Let's go," Hae Soo said, stepping forward. Han Wool followed.

Before they reached the doorway, her mother returned, her hand gripping Hae Soo's urgently and tightly. "You're not leaving this house without breakfast," she declared sternly. Then, turning to Han Wool, "You too."

"Mom—" Hae Soo's voice trailed off, the word abruptly cut short as her mother, Yeon Hwa, offered only a fleeting, tight–lipped glance before retreating into the kitchen. The kitchen, with its familiar scent of morning spices, suddenly felt like a distant, unapproachable realm.

A sigh escaped Hae Soo's lips, a puff of frustration against the quiet air. She turned to Han Wool, who stood beside her, his expression a perfect mask of serene neutrality. His posture, as always, was a study in calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within her. She didn't need to verbalize her unspoken question; he had an uncanny knack for reading her thoughts.

"It'd be rude to leave," he said, a slight shrug in his shoulders. "Let's just take a few bites." He turned and walked towards the dining room, leaving her staring at his retreating back, a mix of exasperation and reluctant understanding swirling within her.

"So desperate for her approval," Hae Soo muttered under her breath, the words barely audible, a soft echo in the hallway. She followed him, her footsteps heavy with a sense of resignation.

Soon, the three of them were seated around the polished dining table. Han Wool and Hae Soo sat across from each other, a silent battle of unspoken emotions playing out between them, while Yeon Hwa occupied the chair at the head of the table. The room was enveloped in a heavy silence, broken only by the delicate clinking of utensils against porcelain plates as Hae Soo took minuscule, almost reluctant bites.

Breakfast was never her favorite meal. She preferred the lightness of an empty stomach, a habit ingrained from years of skipping morning meals. Her usual routine consisted of a bottle of strawberry milk—which Han Wool always had his driver purchase before picking them up.

The silence in the room wasn't charged with tension, nor was it particularly comfortable. It was simply a void, a space filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Hae Soo barely touched her food, instead pushing it around her plate, her eyes heavy with a lack of sleep, her shoulders slumped, her feet swinging restlessly beneath the table until they occasionally collided with Han Wool's still ones.

For a fleeting moment, Han Wool entertained the thought that she was trying to get his attention. But when he glanced up, he saw the distant, unfocused look in her eyes, the clear disinterest in the meal before her. He looked away, returning to his own plate, savoring the taste of a home–cooked meal, a rare treat in his life. He allowed her feet to swing, the occasional kick against his leg a silent, almost comforting presence.

The silence was abruptly shattered as Yeon Hwa placed her utensils down with a decisive clink, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest, her posture suddenly rigid. Hae Soo looked up, her gaze meeting her mother's, only to find Yeon Hwa's attention fixed on Han Wool. Hae Soo's eyes narrowed, trying to decipher the unreadable expression in her mother's eyes.

"Han Wool," Yeon Hwa called out, her voice firm, drawing his attention. He immediately set down his utensils, his full attention now on her.

"Yes?" Han Wool replied, his voice calm and steady. He recognized that look, the same look she gave him almost every morning, the prelude to the same, repetitive question.

Hae Soo knew it too. Her mother was about to ask him, once again, if they were dating. A sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders slumping further. Did her mother ever tire of hearing the same, predictable response? Apparently not.

Yeon Hwa took a deep, measured breath, then exhaled slowly. "Han Wool," she began, her voice laced with a strange mix of assurance and demand. "I know you're a good guy. I see how much you care for Hae Soo. It's in the way you look at each other. And I know that look, Han Wool. I've been there."

Han Wool listened attentively. Her words were different this time, more direct, less veiled. She wasn't simply hinting; she was demanding an answer.

"I want you to admit your relationship to me today. I know Hae Soo won't. So you should. Stop playing this game of hide–and–seek. It's too obvious, and frankly, it's starting to irritate me."

Han Wool's gaze remained steady, his eyes cold and distant, revealing nothing. Her words hung in the air, a challenge waiting to be answered.

Hae Soo sighed, her mother was trying too hard. She always made it seem like there was no escape, but Hae Soo knew Han Wool wouldn't be swayed. He was a man who walked over obstacles, not one who allowed them to walk over him. She was sure he would dismiss her mother's words, brush them aside with his usual nonchalance.

Until—

"If you don't, I won't accept you as my daughter's boyfriend when you finally confess in the near future."

Han Wool's posture stiffened, the subtle shift in his demeanor betraying the impact of her words. They struck him like a sharp blade, a direct hit to his carefully guarded emotions.

Hae Soo, however, remained unfazed. She found her mother's threat ridiculous, a feeble attempt to manipulate him. She almost laughed out loud. She glanced at Han Wool, holding back a snort, waiting for him to deliver his usual dismissive response. Because that's what Han Wool did. He didn't let trivial threats get to him.

At least, that's what she thought. Until—

"I like her."

A pause. A long, drawn-out, stunned silence.

Hae Soo blinked, her mind struggling to process his words. What the fuck?

Han Wool, seemingly oblivious to his girlfriend's stunned reaction, turned to her, his eyes locking onto her wide, disbelieving gaze.

"I admit that I like her. However, whether she likes me or not... is up to her to tell her mother," he said, his voice casual, as if he were discussing the weather. It was as if he hadn't just indirectly confirmed their relationship, almost directly, with a response so vague it circled back to being direct.

Yeon Hwa, finally finding her voice, stammered, "I—"

She looked between her daughter, whose face was a mask of stunned disbelief, and Han Wool, whose expression remained unreadable. Hae Soo's lips were parted, as if she were trying to speak, but she was utterly speechless.

Hae Soo was in a state of bewildered disbelief. She had expected him to dismiss the topic, but instead, he had casually revealed their relationship with a baffling, roundabout answer. She had never known her boyfriend to be this... yielding.

"You didn't have to say all that. You could've just told me you're dating," Yeon Hwa said, a chuckle of amusement in her voice.

Han Wool shook his head. "I didn't say we're dating. I said I like her. Hae Soo didn't tell you if she likes me or not. Until then, you can think of us as just friends."

What the actual fuck?

The car, a sleek, soundproof bubble of luxury, hummed along in its usual, tranquil silence. But today, the silence wasn't the comfortable, companionable kind. It was thick, charged, like a cloud about to burst.

Usually, the space between them would be filled with the easy warmth of intertwined hands, a silent testament to their unspoken connection. Today, however, Hae Soo's hands were clenched into tight fists, her arms wrapped defensively around her chest, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the passing scenery outside the window, pointedly ignoring Han Wool.

Han Wool, for his part, let out yet another silent, exasperated sigh. She had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since they left her house, a masterclass in passive aggression. Not even a single, sarcastic quip after he'd essentially dropped a relationship bombshell on her mother.

"Hae Soo," he finally ventured, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. He was starting to feel the familiar, uncomfortable prickle of anxiety that came with her silent treatment. He wasn't used to being treated like a particularly annoying, but ultimately harmless, housefly.

He hated the feeling of being ignored by her. It was like a tiny, insistent voice in his head, whispering doubts and insecurities. He was surprised by how quickly he could feel his emotional walls crumble from just a few minutes of her silence. If this is how much it hurts to be ignored by her, how could he ever bear to lose her? The thought of her mother potentially driving a wedge between them had been a terrifying prospect. How could he have dismissed her threat?

What if her mother had decided to lock her in a tower or ship her off to a nunnery? The thought was absurd, but his mind had a talent for dramatic scenarios.

Hae Soo finally relented, turning her head to him, her eyes flashing with a surprising intensity. "Is this how weak you are?" she demanded, her voice sharp and surprisingly loud, shattering the tense silence.

Han Wool blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. He hadn't expected her to come at him with such ferocity.

"You let her stupid threat get to you? You really think she wouldn't accept you? You're that scared?" she continued, her frustration palpable. It was like watching a particularly adorable, yet enraged, kitten.

Hae Soo wasn't actually mad that he'd confirmed their relationship. She wasn't even entirely sure why she was so mad. It was more like a bubbling mixture of confusion, annoyance, and a strange, unfamiliar vulnerability.

"Say she doesn't approve, Han Wool. Does that really change anything between us? Do you think I'd just abandon you? Is that how fragile you think our love is? You're not even going to put up a fight?"

That was it. That was the crux of her anger. Not the revelation of their relationship, but the implication that he'd wilt under a mild threat.

"You really wouldn't fight for me? For us?" A few tears, dramatic and glistening, welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. It was a masterpiece of emotional manipulation, and Han Wool, despite his stoic facade, was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

The thought that he might just passively accept defeat if her mother disapproved stung more than a paper cut, or maybe a slightly deeper one.

Han Wool was completely floored by her words. That's what she's been mad about this whole time? He was still trying to process the emotional whiplash.

"Ahjussi," Hae Soo announced, her voice suddenly crisp and decisive, cutting through his thoughts. "Drop me off here. I'm walking." It was said with such dramatic flair, like she was about to storm off into a blizzard, when in reality it was a sunny day and they were in a perfectly safe neighbourhood.

Han Wool, finally snapping out of his stunned stupor, registered the full extent of her dramatic exit. He lunged for the door, intending to stop the driver, but it was too late. The car had already glided to a halt at the curb.

Before he could even utter a word, before he could reach out and grasp her wrist, she had vanished, a blur of indignant motion. She didn't even grant him a parting glare, just stormed off, her strides long and purposeful, radiating an aura of wounded pride.

Han Wool watched her retreating figure, his chest tightening with a knot of anxiety. He had to fix this, and fast. Before her dramatic exit became a full–blown, multi–act play.

Hae Soo, fueled by righteous anger and a surprising burst of speed, managed to reach the school gates before Han Wool's car could navigate the morning traffic. Her fingers were clenched tightly around the strap of her bag, her knuckles white.

As she passed through the imposing gates and into the school's entrance, her eyes landed on two familiar figures standing near the doorway.

Choi Hee Won and Lee Ji Woo.

Her face lit up, a genuine smile breaking through her earlier frustration. Their faces mirrored her own, brightening at her arrival.

Hee Won raised a hand, waving enthusiastically. "Hae Soo!" she called out, a cheerful grin spreading across her face. Ji Woo also waved, beckoning her over.

Hae Soo immediately walked towards them. "Hey, guys," she greeted, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"We were waiting for you," Hee Won said, her voice bubbling with excitement. She slipped her arm through Hae Soo's, linking them together. "Let's walk to class together."

This was a novel experience for Hae Soo. She wasn't accustomed to having friends wait for her, to the casual camaraderie of walking to class together. It was all so new, so unexpectedly...nice. It was a pleasant warmth, a feeling of belonging that she hadn't realized she craved. She felt wanted, valued. For the first time, it wasn't just Han Wool waiting for her, but her friends.

The three of them began walking down the hallway, drawing curious glances from other students. The sight of Hae Soo walking with Lee Ji Woo and Choi Hee Won was enough to raise eyebrows, but the real spectacle was Han Wool stepping out of his car, alone, his gaze following their every move.

Hee Won was the first to notice the anomaly. "By the way, did you just walk to school?" she asked, her head turning slightly. She then noticed Han Wool, his gaze fixed on them, a sharp intensity in his eyes.

Hae Soo's steps didn't falter. She continued walking, ignoring the burning sensation of his gaze on her back. She could practically feel the laser–like intensity of his stare boring into her.

"Doesn't matter," she said, her voice dismissive. "Don't give him any attention."

Han Wool, however, wasn't just staring at Hae Soo. His gaze shifted to the two girls flanking her, his brows furrowing slightly.

The sight was unfamiliar, almost unsettling. Hae Soo, surrounded by other students, their arms linked as if they were lifelong friends. As far as he knew, Hae Soo's only friend was Min Hwan.

Who were these girls? What had he missed?

EPISODE SEVEN, END

Was kind of excited for this chapter bcs they just had their first argument in this book hahaha. And Han Wool is kind dumb and cute—not him imagining her mother shipping her off. He's so dramatic.

The next chapter is pretty much done so I'll maybe publish that later tonight. Look forward to it!

Don't forget to vote and comment your opinions! I love interacting with you guys!!