"It’s not a dream I have often. When I wake up, I realize it wasn’t even such a great time in my life, yet in the dream, it always feels radiant and warm."
Sitting under the shade of a tree, sunlight spilled over her ankles as she turned her head to see Beomjin sitting nearby. The sandwich he held in his hand hadn’t diminished at all, even though he’d been holding it for a while.
His messy black hair and dark t-shirt added to his rugged appeal. Leaning back, almost lounging like a predator resting after a hunt, he exuded a raw and unyielding energy.
His broad shoulders and muscular arms looked as strong as ever, yet Junyoung knew he was lying fully in the sun to offer her the shade she needed.
Doesn’t he feel hot? Especially in black clothes like that?
As she popped the last piece of her sandwich into her mouth, a faint smile crossed her lips. Kwon Beomjin never voiced his care. If you didn’t pay close attention, you’d miss the subtle ways he showed it.
It would be silly to thank him for something he wasn’t trying to show off. Instead, she casually spoke.
“Not going to eat that? Give it to me, then.”
It was refreshing to see their house from outside during the daytime. Beomjin, who had been silently staring at the house as if taking it all in, finally turned to her. Squinting against the sunlight, he let out a dry laugh.
“Does that stomach of yours have no end?”
“I just can’t get enough.”
“Make yourself a new one. This one’s half-eaten.”
“Aren’t we past caring about things like that? We share ramen all the time anyway.”
As she cheekily retorted, Beomjin sighed softly.
“That’s because we split it.”
“Then just let me have a bite.”
Scooting closer, she shifted into the sunlight, which immediately warmed her shoulder. Opening her mouth wide, she looked at him expectantly. It was all a ploy to see him flustered, and as expected, his expression stiffened. Without a word, he shoved the sandwich into his own mouth, finishing it in one go.
“Hey! I thought you didn’t like sweets!”
Though she was yelling, she could barely suppress her laughter. For someone so imposing, Beomjin could be surprisingly cute when caught off guard.
With an annoyed grimace, he downed a glass of milk in one gulp and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.”
As she nodded, he glanced back at her.
“Want another one?”
“Yeah. Lots of jam, lots of ham, and lots of cheese.”
Shaking his head at her endless list of demands, he walked into the house. Watching his retreating back, Junyoung giggled and lay flat on the ground.
She had a home, and she had Kwon Beomjin. If she could live like this forever, she wouldn’t need anything else. As long as she had the things that kept her from sinking into sadness—things she could shake off like dust—nothing else mattered.
Just let every day be like today.
She didn’t wish for good things to happen all the time—she knew better than to expect that. But if bad days could end on a note like this, that would be enough. That was her wish as she closed her eyes.
The rustling of leaves in the breeze tickled her ears.
Junyoung took a sharp breath and slowly opened her eyes.
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She had expected the same bright blue sky, but instead, a stark, barren ceiling stared back at her. Somewhere nearby, a rhythmic beep, beep echoed steadily.
Her entire body felt sluggish. Glancing down, she noticed a faint tug on her wrist. An IV line dangled from her arm.
So I’m in a hospital.
Not that house.
Blinking to clear her dry eyes, she turned her head the other way. Her cracked lips parted slightly.
Everything was different now—except for one thing.
Kwon Beomjin, dressed in his signature black t-shirt, was sitting beside her. Arms crossed, head tilted slightly downward, he appeared to be asleep.
Why does it feel like I might cry instead of laugh?
Suppressing the lump in her throat, Junyoung forced a faint smile and took a deep breath. It wasn’t often she got the chance to observe Kwon Beomjin so freely.
His eyes, sharp but not harsh, hadn’t changed much. His nose, straighter and more defined than she remembered, and his masculine, chiseled jawline caught her attention.
Looks like he shaved today. Yesterday his chin was stubbly.
Sometimes she’d dream about him, but as the years passed, his face in her memories became blurrier. The fact that she didn’t even have a single photo of him left was something she deeply regretted.
I’d always thought that if we ran into each other by chance, I might not recognize him. But that was never going to happen. Not with him.
...A photo. I should take a photo while I have the chance.
I’ve been hung up on not having your picture, Kwon Beomjin, so cooperate with me just this once.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Junyoung glanced around. Her bag was sitting on the small bedside table. Reaching into it, she fished out her phone and turned on the camera.
But as she shifted to aim the camera at him, their eyes met. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed hard.
Half-awake, his narrowed eyes darted between her and the phone before he asked, “What are you doing?”
There’s no better time than now. Without hesitating, she pressed the shutter button. Click!
As Beomjin frowned, she quickly slid her phone under her pillow.
“Taking a selfie.”
“A selfie?”
“Some people didn’t believe I was in the hospital.”
She spat out the excuse hastily, not expecting him to buy it. Yet, to her surprise, Beomjin didn’t demand the phone back, though his suspicion lingered on his face.
He doesn’t think it’s Na Seungwoon, does he?
The best strategy in moments like this was to distract him. Clearing her throat, she asked, “So why am I here?”
“Flu. Overwork. Sleep deprivation. And fainting.”
His voice, slightly hoarse, seemed to confirm he’d been asleep moments earlier. Nodding, Junyoung adjusted herself on the bed and asked another question.
“And how did I get here?”
“By car.”
His curt reply made her scowl.
“I mean, I collapsed on the third floor. Don’t tell me you carried me down those stairs?”
“I threw you.”
Letting out a short sigh, Beomjin’s answer was so dry that Junyoung couldn’t help but laugh. She sank back against the pillow, shaking her head.
“Well, I’m glad I passed out on the third floor and not the fourth. Saved you some effort.”
“You...”
Raising his thick eyebrows as if to scold her, Beomjin gritted his teeth and held back. When he finally spoke, his voice was much calmer than expected.
“Do most office workers push themselves until they faint?”
“Yeah. Plenty of people I know do.”
Junyoung’s casual response made him let out a long sigh, turning his head away. The tension in his jaw was visible, and the sight of it brought a faint smile to her lips. She wiggled her hand slightly, making the IV line swing.
“What time is it? How much longer do I have to sit here with this thing?”
His expression was still sour as he replied curtly.
“Your fever hasn’t gone down, so they hooked you up to a second IV. It’s almost 1 a.m., and you’ve got about an hour left.”
“You should go. You’ve got work in the morning.”
At her words, his gaze sharpened, irritation flashing in his eyes.
“You seriously think—”
“I know you won’t leave,” she cut him off, grinning mischievously. “I just said it for the sake of it.”
He stared at her blankly for a moment, clearly exasperated, before pressing his hand to his face with a tired sigh. As he sighed, Junyoung shifted to face him entirely, her curiosity taking over.
“By the way—”
“Close your mouth and sleep,” he interrupted.
“Is Jung Mansu at this hospital too?”
Her gaze didn’t waver as it met his. For a moment, he said nothing, simply studying her. Then, his lips moved slowly.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he collapsed at the same place I did. I figured they might’ve brought him here too.”
She caught the brief flicker of cold suspicion in his eyes and quickly waved her hand dismissively.
“Not that I passed out there on purpose, of course.”
“He’s not here.”
The curt reply made her exhale softly through her nose. Nodding absently, she suddenly asked, “Were you close to him?”
“I got here after his accident.”
“Interesting. You’ve started sticking your nose into things lately, huh?”
His snappy retort made her chuckle as she added, “It’s funny how you seem to know where people you’ve never even met are hospitalized.”
The air between them tightened, the tension palpable. Then, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Because I’m working with people who do know him.”
Tch. No cracks in this guy’s armor. Kwon Beomjin, you’ve become too sharp.
Junyoung shrugged and dropped the subject.
“Fine. Doesn’t matter. I was planning to visit him anyway. Oh, by the way, if you know anything about Administrator Kim Yongjae, let me know. I’d rather deal with him all at once and be done with it. He gives me a bad vibe.”
Beomjin didn’t answer. She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head at his silence.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Did you forget what’s attached to your hand right now?”
“What, my destiny?”
“Your IV line.”
Thinking herself witty, she grinned, but he ignored her entirely. Feeling a bit slighted, she shook her wrist, making the line swing lightly. Beomjin sighed faintly, his shoulders dropping slightly.
“You seriously think pushing yourself like this is worth some bonus?”
“Yep. A very fat one.”
“And is that bonus more important than your body?”
“Don’t know. Maybe.”
His narrowed eyes followed the IV line as it swung in rhythm with her movements. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Junyoung muttered quietly, cutting him off.
“I can’t tell if my health matters more, or my mom’s life support does.”
It didn’t need to be said. It was pointless, unnecessary. This was probably the kind of thing Beomjin meant when he warned her not to be bothersome. Still, once the words slipped past her lips, she couldn’t stop.
“You’d find it funny,” she added, her voice low. “How I’m working myself into the ground, fainting and all, just to keep my mom’s respirator running. You know how she treated me, don’t you?”
She gave him a bitter smile, but he didn’t return it. His expression was stiff, his silence heavy. Feeling awkward under his unyielding gaze, Junyoung shook the IV line again, the light movement punctuating the strained air.