Roy looked down at Park Jieun's sleeping face and smiled softly.
Her breath was slow and even, her expression peaceful in the early morning light. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Their night together had been intense—perhaps too intense. He had been rough, lost in the moment, and now she was completely worn out, her body limp in the comfort of sleep.
He sighed and gently pulled on his clothes, buttoning his shirt and slipping into his pants with quiet efficiency. Then, moving carefully, he reached for Park Jieun's clothes. Dressing her was awkward and delicate. She remained fast asleep, her body unresponsive, still slack from exhaustion and lingering pleasure.
Her undergarments were the most difficult. Her hips didn't move, and he had to lift her gently, sliding the fabric up her smooth thighs without waking her. Then came her skirt and blouse. He took care not to wrinkle them as he dressed her, adjusting the collar of her top and brushing stray strands of hair away from her face.
Once she was dressed, he leaned down and lifted her into his arms with practiced ease, cradling her like a princess. She didn't stir, her head resting lightly against his chest. He moved silently across the room, glancing toward the others.
Sofia lay sleeping on the other side of the room, her body curled beside the low table . Hanato was still asleep as well, lying quietly near the low table where they'd all been drinking the night before.
Roy stepped lightly, lowering Park Jieun beside Hanato without making a sound. She shifted slightly but didn't wake. After a moment's hesitation, Roy moved to the other side of the table and lay down near Sofia, careful not to disturb her.
He stared at the ceiling, heart heavy.
What have I done?
What happens now?
Guilt gnawed at him, but he forced the thoughts away with a quiet sigh. There was no turning back. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the pull of sleep.
The next morning, Roy stirred. He felt the soft cushion beneath his head and the stiffness in his body from sleeping on the floor. A gentle hand shook him from his slumber.
"Wake up," Sofia whispered sweetly. "It's morning. Good morning."
He blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. Still half-asleep, he turned his head toward her and remembered where they were.
They had spent the night at Hanato and Park Jieun's house. The four of them had drunk wine late into the night and eventually passed out in the living room. The empty wine bottle still sat on the short table, its label slightly stained, a silent witness to their shared indulgence.
Across from him, Hanato and Park Jieun were no longer sleeping. He saw Hanato sitting up, stretching lazily, while Park Jieun moved quietly near the dining area. She wore a calm, composed look as if nothing unusual had happened. Roy's heart sank. Does she remember? he wondered. What if she does? What if she doesn't?
He quickly shook the thoughts from his head and glanced up at Sofia, who smiled at him warmly, unaware of the storm inside him. Her kindness only deepened the guilt in his chest.
In a soft, sleepy voice, she said, "Come on, sleepyhead. Park Jieun has made breakfast. She's calling us to eat."
Roy nodded silently. He and Sofia washed their faces and made their way to the dining table.
The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the room. Plates were already set, and the last dish had just been placed by Park Jieun, who gave a polite nod when she saw them approach. Hanato was seated, sipping tea, his expression relaxed.
Everyone gathered at the table, exchanging soft greetings and quiet "Good mornings." They sat down together, and breakfast began, the peaceful atmosphere belying the storm that lingered silently in Roy's heart.
.
.
.
.
Park Jieun's fingers tightened around the ceramic cup, the heat from the tea seeping into her skin like the memory of Roy's touch. Steam curled lazily upward, but her thoughts were far from tranquil—they burned with the phantom sensation of his hands on her body, his mouth hot and demanding against hers.
She set the cup down with deliberate calm and turned to arrange the breakfast dishes—rice porridge, side dishes, grilled fish, cut fruit. Every movement precise. Every gesture controlled.
But beneath the surface, she was anything but composed.
Her skin still prickled where he had touched her last night—where his fingers had dug into her hips, where his teeth had grazed the sensitive curve of her neck. She had let him take what he wanted, had arched into him with a hunger that surprised even herself. And now, in the harsh light of morning, the memory clung to her like a second skin.
Did he regret it?
Or was he, like her, replaying every filthy second in his head?
She glanced toward the living room, where Sofia's laughter rang out, bright and untroubled. The sound should have shamed her. Instead, it sent a slow, sinful thrill down her spine.
Because Sofia didn't know.
Didn't know how her husband had tasted. Didn't know the way his breath had hitched when Park Jieun—
Hanato shuffled in, yawning, and she offered him a practiced smile.
Then Roy entered.
Their eyes met.
A heartbeat of silence.
His gaze darkened—just for a fraction of a second—before he looked away.
But it was enough.
He remembers.
The table was set. The meal began.
On the surface, everything was normal.
But Park Jieun could feel the weight of Roy's stare like a physical touch. Every time he lifted his chopsticks, she imagined those same fingers tangled in her hair, dragging her closer. Every sip he took, she remembered the way his mouth had claimed hers—rough, possessive, hungry.
Sofia chatted about the wine, oblivious. Hanato joked about headaches.
And beneath the table, Roy's knee brushed against hers.
Accident?
She didn't pull away.
His leg pressed harder, a silent challenge.
Her breath caught.
Across the table, he took a slow sip of water, his eyes locked onto hers as he swallowed.
Testing me.
She held his gaze.
I dare you.
.
.
.
Sofia hugged her, warm and effusive. "Let's do this again soon!"
Park Jieun smiled and looked at Roy. "Whenever you like."
Roy's voice replied without a thought. "Yeah. Whenever."
The way he said it was polite. It was a promise.
Roy only nodded. "Thanks," he said shortly, eyes flicking to Hanato, then briefly to her. There was something in his voice—a weight, a hesitation—but it passed quickly.
As they stepped outside, Roy unlocked his SUV and opened the passenger door for Sofia. She climbed in, humming softly, her spirit as bright as ever.
Roy circled around, pausing for a moment before sliding into the driver's seat.
Inside the house, Park Jieun watched through the curtain. She saw the car pull away. She saw the smile Sofia gave him.
A slow heat coiled in Park Jieun's stomach.
And when the vehicle disappeared down the road, she finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
That part of the story is over now, she told herself.
But her heart whispered another truth.
Or maybe… it's only just begun.