Chapter 10. The Guy Next Door (10)

“We really need to hire a part-timer.”

Eunkyo finally made it to closing time without even having lunch. She brought it up while helping Haeda finish up for the day. He nodded in agreement as he switched off the café signs.

“I’m wiped too. Good thing it’s summer break—plenty of college kids looking for gigs. I’ll ask around.”

Both of them looked worn out as they left the café together. Oddly, Haeda’s car wasn’t parked out front like usual. Eunkyo looked around.

“My sister’s picking me up. Go on inside.”

“Oh, your sister’s coming? Got it. Get home safe.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Hands in his pockets, Haeda checked his phone and crossed toward the road.

Eunkyo glanced at the now-quiet basement, then climbed the stairs. The group of friends must’ve left already. It was silent again.

Maybe Jaeheon planned to bring the notebook tomorrow. Unlike earlier, now that it was nighttime, her mind felt strangely calm.

Back upstairs, she turned on just one dim light and laid on the sofa. She reopened the email she hadn’t finished earlier that day.

Her pride stung, but the editor hadn’t been wrong.

She had followed trends. She had taken the easy way out. The manuscript was rushed—something she forced out of obligation more than inspiration.

After lying there a while, hunger hit her hard. She clutched her empty stomach and sat up.

She’d only had two strawberries and one coffee all day.

Starving, she opened a delivery app and headed to the bathroom.

After ordering something cheap and easy to fill her stomach, Eunkyo took a lukewarm shower—and instantly felt like the happiest person alive.

Half-heartedly drying her hair, she collapsed onto the bed and turned on the fan.

The breeze slowly dried her hair, strand by strand.

‘Maybe I’ll just sleep…’

The hunger that had gnawed at her all evening began to fade, and drowsiness crept in.

Ding dong.

The doorbell jolted her upright. About thirty seconds after the sound, assuming the delivery driver had already left, she opened the door.

And nearly gasped when she saw a pair of sneakers—ones that definitely didn’t belong to a delivery driver.

“Oh?”

“Ordering food this late… kinda dangerous, don’t you think?”

Standing at her door was Lee Jaeheon, holding the delivery bag.

“Uh… are you doing food deliveries now?”

He let out a quiet laugh at the random question and extended the bag toward her.

“No. I ran into the driver at the stairs. Figured you were in a rush—I was bringing this anyway.”

He raised the notebook in his other hand. “Tried to make it before the café closed. Failed.”

Unlike earlier, Jaeheon was now in a black short-sleeve shirt and track pants. Tall and all in black, he looked like the night had followed him inside.

Eunkyo accepted the bag and swallowed dryly as her eyes landed on the notebook in his hand.

As their eyes met, he gave her a quick once-over, then held the notebook out to her.

“This is the one, right?”

That familiar smiley face on the cover. Eunkyo couldn’t help but smile faintly.

“Yeah… Thanks. You could’ve just brought it tomorrow, though.”

“Was I not supposed to come?”

“No, I just feel bad, that’s all. Do you want to come in? We could share the food if you’re hungry.”

She offered out of politeness. The food was way too much for one person, and she genuinely appreciated him coming all the way just to return the notebook.

And honestly, she’d expected him to decline—with that polite smile he gave everyone else.

To say something like, It’s fine, really, and walk away.

“I’ve got wine in the car. I’ll bring it, sunbae.”

…But he didn’t.

He chuckled softly and turned to head down the stairs.

Eunkyo stared after him, stunned. Then let out a soft laugh through her nose and rubbed her lips, walking back into the apartment.

She left the door wide open and started unpacking the food on the coffee table. The whole thing felt… odd. Unfamiliar. Kind of absurd.

Had anyone ever been in her apartment before? Even Kim Haeda never came inside unless it was urgent.

Yet here she was, with Lee Jaeheon—essentially her first guest—and he was bringing wine.

The intention was so blatant, it made her laugh.

Eunkyo ran her teeth lightly over the spot where he’d pressed his nail earlier.

Jaeheon didn’t seem like someone who hid his desires.

Or maybe he simply didn’t see the point in hiding anything—especially now that she’d already caught on.

Strangely, the confusion and discomfort from earlier in the day had become clearer with nightfall.

She already knew what the sweat soaking her palm had meant the first time they met. It was interest—simple, impulsive interest. She’d just refused to admit it.

“I brought two bottles. Is that okay?”

His voice came from the front door. She sat up as he entered, shutting the door behind him. Still wrapped in thought, she quickly composed her expression.

“If you’re drinking, how will you drive?”

“I’ll crash at the studio.”

“Ah… Didn’t you say it’s not set up yet?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

He set the wine on the table and casually looked around.

Her apartment was cozy, filled with little trinkets, and mostly fitted furniture. No dining table—just an island. The studio-style layout had the living and bedroom spaces divided by a partition. His gaze didn’t show any particular reaction as he took it in.

While he looked around, Eunkyo fetched a corkscrew and two glasses, then flopped down onto the sofa.

Why—why now—did she suddenly feel self-aware?

Still, the best way to stay comfortable in moments like this was to act completely unfazed. So she even turned on the TV and patted the spot next to her, nodding her head.

“Hurry up. By the way, have you ever tried this before?”

“No. Someone gave it to me.”

“Oh… I actually really like this one.”

“Yeah?”

Lee Jaeheon shrugged as if it were a coincidence and sat beside her. Their arms brushed. Their clothes touched. Trying not to show her tension, she pressed her knees together.

Pizza, oil pasta, and a salad drowning in cheese—it was far too much for just one person. If Jaeheon hadn’t shown up, this would’ve been three days’ worth of late-night meals.

As she toyed with the remote, a fork in her mouth, Jaeheon ran a hand through his damp hair.

“It’s still wet. Are you okay, sunbae?”