“Although I’ve been loosening up by focusing on still lifes and landscapes lately, if you have time, hyung, could you model for me? I’d like to try drawing a person, too.”
I watched Gwon Juhan, his mouth full of banana, pause as he leafed through the built-in shelves stacked with books, art monographs, and exhibition pamphlets—and look back at me.
“Me? Not Baek Yuni, but me?”
“I just thought your eyes, cheekbones, jawline—your entire facial structure has more character, so you’d be easier to draw...”
Worried that Yuni might feel slighted, I hurried to explain, but she only chuckled and waved it off.
“Why are you making such a fuss over nothing? I’m not the type to be upset about something like that.”
Relieved and embarrassed at my unnecessary fretting, I laughed at her, and then his voice called down from above.
“You’ve arrived but haven’t come upstairs—aren’t you hungry?”
Standing halfway down the stairs to the first floor, Director Ryu leaned one arm on the banister and looked down at us.
“Ihyeon’s giving me the grand tour of your rooms. Wow... becoming one of your artists really does change things. I had no idea the basement was this nice.”
He cast me a quick glance as he descended, then turned his attention to the envelope on the floor.
“You bought all this? You’ll never eat it all.”
“Since I’m giving up my summer vacation to work, I figured I’d at least make the director pay by feeding him. And I plan to eat every last bit.”
Juhan draped an arm around Director Ryu’s waist with a grin, and Ryu—pressing his forehead to Juhan’s—seemed to enjoy it just as much. Juhan was surprisingly tactile and affectionate—not only with Ryu but with Chief Han, with Yuni, even leaning on my shoulder at times.
They climbed the stairs together, joking as if they were brothers, and I followed—chiding myself for my own rigidity. Even after a kiss or sex, I rarely mingled so freely.
“Hey—why’d you take the painting down?”
As we entered the living room, Juhan stopped and pointed at the empty space above the sofa. Startled, I looked where he was pointing.
“I came expecting to see Ihyeon’s painting, to get a sense of its atmosphere.”
“That piece is only going up in value. I stored it safely. If you want to see it, organize an exhibition.”
Ryu shot me a brief look so the others wouldn’t notice and led us toward the kitchen, dismissing any further talk of . He seemed to think I still had trauma connected to that painting, but my shock that day had nothing to do with the work itself—it was the memories it awakened. And I wasn’t ready to explain that. I’d simply waited for time to dull the pain, unprocessed, and I was grateful he hadn’t forced me to open up.
Once our bags were in the kitchen, meal prep began in earnest. Because Yuni and Juhan insisted on meat, tonight’s main course was barbecue. Juhan—the meat master—had already seasoned everything and stepped into the garden to set up the grill. The three of us unpacked ingredients on the wide island counter.
We had all the classics: Korean beef cuts, bone-in lamb chops, homemade sausages, jumbo shrimp, potatoes, sweet potatoes. Vegetables for wraps, fruit and ice cream for dessert, and even a cheesecake Juhan had tossed into the cart on a whim. It seemed impossible we’d finish it all in one sitting.
Beyond the barbecue, Juhan planned a spicy whelk salad, and Yuni would make kimchi stew. I—unable to cook—took on washing and prepping duties.
“Chief says he’ll be here in ten minutes. Can we start the steaks?”
Juhan checked his phone, rubbed his hands together, and smiled. He’d already downed two bananas, a peach, and a pack of crackers, yet still looked ravenous.
“Ihyeon, take this tray to Director Ryu... then you can help him outside.”
I carried Yuni’s tray out to the garden, where Ryu had set the table and grill. Placing the tray on the bench-style table, I approached the charcoal pit.
“Chief’ll be here in ten minutes.”
“Then let’s get grilling.”
Attaching the butane torch, Ryu ignited it and plunged the flame into the stacked charcoal. The blue flame hissed through the gaps, flaring into red-hot tongues of fire. Though the day’s heat had passed, the sun was still high—concerned he’d be too hot, I glanced up. Our eyes met.
“Have you ever tried lamb?”
“No.”
“It has a distinctive aroma—an acquired taste. But they have refined palates, so I chose top cuts. Try it. If you don’t like it, there’s beef.”
Watching the coals glow red, I nodded. I’d try anything.
“It’s even better if you let it marinate a couple hours, but good meat is delicious straight on the grill. Of course, Gwon Juhan would eat raw meat if you gave it to him.”
“I heard hyung says you cook the best steaks.”
“I’ve been hearing that? I thought he only bad-mouthed me behind my back.”
I smirked. He checked the coals, then spread them evenly across the pit.
“My mother was American and loved barbecues. She’d host year-round. As I grew up, I gradually took over as chef. We did Korean-style charcoal grilling a lot, too.”
It was a trivial anecdote—some might say I was overthinking it—but it was the first time he’d shared something so personal so casually, and my gaze lingered on him.
He set the grate over the coals, noticed my stare, and lifted his head to meet my eyes. Our gaze held longer than normal—like the tense look before we kissed yesterday. Feeling bound by an invisible rope, I froze.
He slipped off his glove, laid it on the grill’s side shelf, then lifted one hand to cradle my neck while pinching my lower lip—biting down hard enough to rub the inner membranes together.
Startled and unsure of his intent, I only widened my eyes and stared back. His gaze fixed on mine brought to mind the blue flame among the charcoal. As I felt the pain, his hand withdrew.
Though barely ten seconds passed, the sting made me bring my fingers to my lip. He slid on his glove and laughed quietly—an obscene little laugh.
“Feels... similar, doesn’t it?”
“......”
“You like it when it hurts, Ihyeon. I do too.”
He never said what it felt like—but somehow I understood.
“You looked at me like you wanted to kiss. But we can’t do that now.”
“Oh...”
A foolish sigh slipped out. I drew my hand away from my lip, but the burn remained. His gesture, meant as a substitute for a kiss, only ignited my craving for a real one—and I resented him for teasing me.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Or should I just do it? I don’t mind.”
He laughed wickedly—and at that moment, his phone vibrated on the table. Glancing over my shoulder, he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ah... someone clueless must be calling to open the parking gate.”
As he predicted, it was Chief Han. Ryu used the remote to open the gate, spoke briefly, then hung up. I forced myself to shake off thoughts of our exchange.
I didn’t know what a kiss-hungry look really was, but if that’s what he saw in mine... that felt more awkward than baring my body to him.
“Chief’s here, right? Why hasn’t any lamb gone on yet?”
Gwon Juhan burst through the door with a loaded tray, saw the empty grate, and made an exasperated face.
“What’s in your stomach? You must’ve been snacking while we worked—how are you still starving?”
“I have nothing in my stomach, that’s why. Do you think those snacks filled me up?”
He complained at the doorway as I took the tray and set it on the table. Yuni arrived with another tray, joining in the teasing. Feeling partly responsible, I set down a basket overflowing with lettuce and herbs for wraps, and watched Ryu—though his expression revealed nothing.
He oiled a broad rectangular pan, placed the seasoned lamb on it, and appeared unfazed. As I stepped forward to take Yuni’s tray, she suddenly paused, frowning.
“Hey, Director—are you dating someone these days?”
“Why are you making up stories again?”
“You never wore cologne before, but suddenly you’re drenched in it...”
She leaned close to his shoulder and inhaled sharply.
“And today it’s practically overpowering. Who are you trying to seduce with this intoxicating scent?”
Confused, Ryu frowned and pressed the sleeve of his thin knit to his nose and lips.
“Is it that strong?”
“It’s naturally potent—though you went overboard. Are you coming down with a cold? You’re not someone who loses control like this. Or does your partner like it?”
Yuni laughed and tapped his shoulder, clearly enjoying herself. He only smiled and ignored her provocation.
I stepped in to take the tray, feeling his gaze but deliberately looking away. As Yuni suggested, I had no right to question his private life. There’d been no sign of another relationship—so far, at least—and I’d tried not to think about it. Yet this light banter sent my imagination spiraling.
“But Director, I thought you insisted on custom scents, yet you’re wearing something off the shelf. It smells blended—though I recognize one of the notes.”
Yuni narrowed her eyes, naming the suspected brand and product.
“Oh... sharp nose you have.”
He snapped the barbecue tongs closed with a click. I wondered if it really was “that scent”—or a blend creating that memory. I shook my head to dispel visions of me skulking in perfume shops—paying a fortune to secretly sniff and imagine him.
“Wow... the meat aroma is incredible!”
Just then, Chief Han emerged from the parking-lot door into the garden.
“It’ll be another twenty minutes before it’s ready to eat.”
Chief Han tousled Juhan’s hair—who protested—and then stroked my cheek as he greeted me. Seeing him after five days, on a Saturday spent at a cosmetics-brand event, was a welcome surprise.
“Look how much Ihyeon lights up now that you’re here.”
“See? I may seem stoic, but everything shows on my face.”
Yuni and Juhan teased me about my expressions, and though I offered only a faint smile, I ran ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) a hand over my cheek as if to feel my own face.
I couldn’t help but notice how precisely he remembered that moment. That morning by his “Ghost” car, when—as he’d told Inwoo—he’d dismissed me as just a “temp,” showing no interest at all, I never would’ve guessed he could recall our conversation so vividly.
“I know, I know. Inwoo wasn’t offended—he realized you weren’t mocking him, and was actually intrigued by you.”
Yuni—who had swapped seats with Juhan and now sat diagonally opposite me—stirred her spicy whelk salad as she spoke. The wine had loosened her speech.
“See, I know him—he’s actually a true M. He must’ve been all the more drawn to you because you spoke so bluntly.”
Juhan, fishing the last beer from the cooler, laughed and nodded at Yuni’s words before turning back to me.
“And I heard Inwoo’s been really looking forward to working with you. Have you spoken with him?”
“Yeah. He calls every other day or so...”
