For some reason, she felt uneasy. That unease became reality the moment she saw the phone Han-gyeol had handed back to her. Han-gyeol wore a look of quiet satisfaction, while Yeon-woo stared back and forth between him and the phone, her face twisting in utter disbelief.
“You seriously sent this?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You insane reaper!!!!!”
Yeon-woo practically threw the phone down before hurling a pillow at Han-gyeol. It flew toward him, then dropped straight to the floor just inches from his face at a flick of his hand. Furious, Yeon-woo started grabbing and throwing anything within reach. Tissue boxes, medicine packets, blankets—everything flew through the air, but Han-gyeol dodged each item without the slightest effort. He had used Yeon-woo’s phone to text Seo-won, and the message was absolutely outrageous. Faced with its unbelievable contents, Yeon-woo could do nothing but panic.
“You’re making a scene even after I helped you.”
Han-gyeol clicked his tongue as if he couldn’t understand her. Yeon-woo, having exhausted herself with all that throwing, panted for breath and pulled a miserable face.
After her hospital appointment, Seo-won enjoyed a casual outdoor date with Hye-jin before going back to Hye-jin’s place together. Seo-won sat down on the sofa like she belonged there, while Hye-jin walked over to the bar in the corner of the living room and took out two wineglasses.
“Babe, want a glass of wine?”
“Wine’s a little much for a brewmaster, isn’t it—”
“Want a beer instead?”
“I’m kidding. Pour me a glass.”
Hye-jin picked up one of the wines displayed on the shelf. She removed the cork with practiced ease and poured the wine into the glasses. She kept one for herself, handed the other to Seo-won, and sat beside her. Seo-won accepted it with a smile, and soon the two wineglasses clinked together.
“I keep telling you, your lipstick’s way too dark—”
Seo-won said it after the toast, eyeing the red lipstick mark left on Hye-jin’s glass.
“Who are you trying to look pretty for?”
“I look pretty even when I put it on lightly. I keep telling you that.”
“Liar.”
“Hey, I’m not lying.”
“Be honest with me, Hye-jin. Do I have no appeal as a woman?”
“What are you talking about? Who’s more attractive than you?”
“But when you look at me, don’t you ever think, ‘I want to hold her’?”
A faint sigh slipped from Seo-won’s lips. The smile she had worn all along vanished in an instant, replaced by an apologetic expression. Watching Seo-won fiddle silently with her glass, Hye-jin offered a bittersweet smile.
“Aw, so you do feel bad after all? I’m going to have an affair at this rate.”
“I’m sorry, Hye-jin—”
“Whatever.”
She had said it like a joke, but Seo-won knew Hye-jin meant it.
“That sulky face is kind of cute too, but I still like your smile better. What did the professor say at your appointment today?”
“Nothing much. I’m trying.”
“You’re not trying for some other woman, are you? Because I’m not feeling it at all—”
“I’ll try harder.”
“I’ll let it slide again this time.”
“Thanks.”
Ding. The moment their conversation ended, Seo-won’s phone rang. She picked up the phone from the table and checked the message.
「Hello! I’m Yeon-woo. I’m in Room 107 at Taeyang University Hospital. I miss you, Seo-won, so please, please come see me tomorrow! Good night~♥」
Seo-won read the bewildering message once, then again. At first, she thought it had been sent to the wrong person, but when she saw the name Yeon-woo, she realized it was the woman she had met at the hospital that afternoon. The way Yeon-woo had abruptly asked her to come was absurd, but at the same time, it was kind of amusing. Face-to-face, Yeon-woo had been so awkward, yet this message—with its heart at the end—was more than enough to pique Seo-won’s curiosity. A smile spread across Seo-won’s face as she read it, and Hye-jin’s brow furrowed slightly as she watched her.
“Who’s texting you this late?”
“Huh? Oh, just someone I know a little.”
“‘Someone I know a little’ sounds pretty dangerous.”
“No, she’s really just someone I barely know.”
“I like seeing you smile, but watching you smile at someone else’s text while you’re with me is kind of a bummer.”
“Oh, sorry, sorry.”
Feeling Hye-jin’s eyes on her, Seo-won turned the phone facedown and placed it back on the table without replying. Then their wineglasses clinked together once more. As Seo-won took a sip of wine, she struggled to suppress the smile that kept threatening to escape whenever she thought of Yeon-woo’s message. It was absurd no matter how she looked at it, but it was interesting. It was the first time in a very long while that she had felt genuinely intrigued by something.
Yeon-woo had spent the entire night wide awake. She blinked her hollow-looking eyes and stared blankly into space. Since there was no way to undo the message Han-gyeol had sent on his own the previous night, she was beside herself with frustration. She could only hope Seo-won hadn’t taken her for a lunatic. But Seo-won hadn’t replied at all, and the thought that she really had mistaken Yeon-woo for a weirdo was becoming more and more certain, plunging her deeper into despair.
“Aaaaargh!”
No matter how many times she thought it over, all she could conclude was that she was screwed. She even began to wonder whether this was all some scheme by the reaper to back her into a corner—whether he had no intention of saving her and was merely playing with her feelings because he was bored.
“Please stop screaming out of nowhere.”
Yeon-woo thought Han-gyeol was unbelievably shameless. After pulling such an outrageous stunt, he sat there looking perfectly calm by himself, which annoyed her to no end.
“Ugh! This is all your fault!!”
Finding Han-gyeol infuriating, Yeon-woo kicked at him repeatedly, spitting out a string of irritated curses.
“Anyway, you’ve got a nasty temper. Tch.”
Yeon-woo checked the message again, wondering if what happened yesterday might have been a dream—or, no, praying desperately that it had been. Instead, the message was still sitting there in plain sight, and she felt like biting her own tongue off. The unnatural wording, the insane demand that Seo-won come because she missed her, the good-night greeting to someone she wasn’t even close to, and the tildes and heart on top of it all—it was a complete disaster.
“Okay, maybe I typed the number wrong. Right?”
That turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking. She checked the business card and her phone back and forth a dozen times, hoping she had entered even one digit incorrectly. But every single number matched, and Yeon-woo’s face crumpled.
“Jung Han-gyeol, I’m going to kill you!!”
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, uh… Yu-bin, you’re here?”
Yu-bin had come to drop something off for Yeon-woo before heading to work. Seeing Yeon-woo shouting at thin air, she tilted her head in confusion. Flustered, Yeon-woo forced an awkward smile and mumbled some excuse, while Han-gyeol stuck his tongue out at her with an irritating grin.
“Nya-nya.”
‘That damn reaper.’
Yu-bin set the bag she had brought on the bedside table, then took the bottles of banana milk out of the plastic bag in her other hand and placed them in the refrigerator one by one.
“There’s a laptop, underwear, and everything else in the bag. If you need anything more, just let me know anytime.”
“Okay, thanks, Yu-bin.”
“And don’t live on banana milk. I know the hospital food probably isn’t very good, but make sure you eat properly.”
“Got it. You’re going to be late for work. Hurry up and go.”
After saying goodbye, Yu-bin left the room. When the refrigerator was filled with banana milk, Han-gyeol looked delighted. Yeon-woo wanted nothing more than to keep him from touching even a single bottle, but she couldn’t—not after making a promise. The moment Yu-bin left, Han-gyeol took out a bottle of banana milk, poked a straw into it, and put it to his mouth.
“Good?”