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“Oh, Hyerim…”
Hearing Hyerim’s voice, Jieun was overwhelmed with guilt. What had she been about to do? Had she really been about to use Yoonwoo to boost her own ego, to prove something to Hyerim? She couldn’t deny that some part of her had wanted to show off, to say, “See? He wants me, even though you couldn’t have him after all these years.”
But until that moment, such thoughts hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d been swept away by raw emotion, by a hunger she’d never felt before. Hyerim, her friend’s feelings, the consequences—none of it had mattered in that heated instant. All she’d known was Yoonwoo and the overwhelming need to act on her feelings.
Jieun had always been a peacekeeper, going with the flow to keep everyone happy. But now, she felt a fierce longing that defied her usual nature. Did Hyerim feel this strongly about Yoonwoo? Could she? Jieun caught herself. It wasn’t fair to compare. No one could truly know the depths of another person’s heart.
“No one was reading my messages. Have you finished drinking?” Hyerim asked over the phone.
“Sorry, I was out of it and didn’t see them. We finished up a while ago.”
“Must have had a lot of fun? It’s 10 now. How long did you drink?”
“Um… until about 8?”
She had started drinking at 5 p.m., and it took less time than expected to finish four bottles. She arrived in front of Yoonwoo’s apartment around 8:20 p.m., and Yoonwoo entered her house around 9.
“And no one replied for two hours?” Hyerim said.
“Ah… We both drank quite a bit today…”
“How much?”
“About two bottles each?”
“Yoonwoo too?”
“Yeah. I didn’t consider Yoonwoo’s tolerance… Sorry.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Jieun wondered why she was apologizing. Hyerim and Yoonwoo weren’t a couple, and they were all adults. But knowing Yoonwoo was asleep in her bed made her feel like she had something to be sorry for.
“Did Yoonwoo enjoy the lamb skewers?” Hyerim asked.
“Yes, he really did. Let’s get them again next time.”
“Okay. Are you at home now? Did you get back safely?”
“Yeah, I’m a bit tipsy and sipping on some vodka…”
“That damn vodka,” Hyerim muttered. Jieun could practically hear her disappointment through the phone. “How about Yoonwoo? You said he drank a lot. Did you make sure he got home?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Did you take him home? To his apartment?”
“Yes…”
A lie slipped out unwittingly, leaving Jieun feeling like she’d betrayed Hyerim. She should have just told the truth—that Yoonwoo was too drunk to make it home, so she let him crash at her place. But admitting that felt dangerous, like it might reveal more than just the events of the evening.
However, the affection Hyerim held, which Jieun had thought to be as fragile as a cobweb, turned out to be much more expansive and clinging than she had imagined. It wasn’t something she could easily break through with a simple lie.
“Jieun… Why are you lying to me?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Yoonwoo didn’t go home. You took him with you. Why are you lying? Do you like Yoonwoo too?”
“Uh… umm… See, the thing is—”
The realization that Hyerim knew Yoonwoo hadn’t gone home was unsettling. Just as alarming was the shift in her voice from its usual sweetness to something cold and low, leaving Jieun momentarily speechless.
“Did something happen between you two?” Hyerim pressed. “Are you secretly dating? If that’s the case…”
“No! No, Hyerim… Yoonwoo just passed out. He didn’t want to go to his place, so I just let him stay at mine. You know how big my apartment is.”
“Then why did you lie? You could have said that from the start!”
“I… I was afraid you’d get the wrong idea. It just came out…”
“Are you sure nothing happened? You just slept, right? Not—”
“Nothing happened, I swear! But… how’d you know Yoonwoo didn’t go home?”
“Oh, I was… studying at a cafe. I saw two people who looked like you and Yoonwoo in front of his apartment. I recognized you easily. But Yoonwoo never went back in.”
“You were at a café? The one across from the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“That’s really far from your place.”
“I wanted a quiet place to study.”
“There are lots of quiet cafés… How long were you there?”
“From about 6?”
“But if you saw us, how long did you stay?”
“I just left… Heading home now.”
“Were you watching to see when Yoonwoo would come back?”
There was a palpable silence at the other end of the line.
“Hyerim, that’s… That’s almost stalking…” Jieun mumbled.
“Anyway!”
Hyerim’s story didn’t add up. There were plenty of peaceful spots along the way. Even the Starbucks halfway there would be quiet, especially with exams coming up soon. Hyerim must’ve had other reasons for picking that particular café across from Yoonwoo’s place.
Jieun felt uneasy about how Hyerim seemed to accept her drinking with Yoonwoo without much fuss. The thought of Hyerim camped out in that café, watching for Yoonwoo’s lights to come on or peering through the windows, sent a chill down Jieun’s spine.
But then again, picturing Hyerim sitting there for hours, waiting for Yoonwoo to come home, was kind of sad. Looking back, something didn’t add up. If Hyerim was so concerned, why didn’t she just join them for lamb skewers? She could have, but she didn’t. Why?
“Anyway…” Hyerim continued. “Do you like Yoonwoo too?”
Now it was Jieun’s turn to be lost for words.
“It’s okay to tell me,” Hyerim said. “I won’t get mad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well, people can’t help who they like. Yoonwoo’s attractive, and even if he likes you, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Do you… really think so?”
“But still, Unnie,” Hyerim added, her voice taking on an edge, “you shouldn’t take shortcuts.”
“Shortcuts?”
“Like today. Getting Yoonwoo drunk, dragging him home, then doing something while he’s out. You know what I mean?”
Jieun felt her face flush with anger and embarrassment. “What are you saying? I didn’t force him to come. Nothing happened, I swear. It just... ended up this way.”
It was like Hyerim had read her mind. She glanced around, half-expecting to find Hyerim hiding somewhere. Though if she were here, she wouldn’t stay quiet. Maybe there was a hidden camera? No way…
“Okay. So no more lies, alright?” Hyerim said.
“Of course. I’m sorry about earlier…”
“You promise? Can I trust you?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Okay. I’ll trust you and go to bed. You said nothing happened, so I’ll believe you. I always do, Unnie.”
“Of course, I know…”
“I’ll come over early tomorrow. Have a good night.”
“Yeah… You too, Hyerim.”
And with that, Jieun finally ended the call.
Shit, that was terrifying.
The interaction with Hyerim had sobered her completely. Jieun’s mind raced. Hyerim knew her door code. She’d be here early tomorrow—but how early? To check on Yoonwoo? To catch them in the act? When Hyerim said she trusted her, did she really mean it?
Jieun shuddered, recalling the icy edge in Hyerim’s voice. Would someone who’d been staking out Yoonwoo’s place for hours really just accept their relationship? It didn’t add up.
Back in her bedroom, Hyerim’s warning about “shortcuts” echoed in Jieun’s head. She couldn’t bring herself to resume what she’d started earlier. Yoonwoo lay motionless on the bed, exactly as she’d left him.
“Is this guy dead?” she wondered, only half-joking. She held her palm over his face, relieved to feel his breath. His stillness was uncanny—a habit born from sleeping on that tiny studio bed, no doubt.
After watching him for a while, Jieun found herself lying down beside him.
This isn’t cheating, is it? she thought, trying to justify her actions. People crashed together all the time after drinking, right? It was just a bed—a raised, soft surface. Nothing more. They could keep their distance. Why suffer on the sofa when there was plenty of room here?
But even as she rationalized, Jieun knew she was dancing on a dangerous line. The conflict between her growing feelings for Yoonwoo and her loyalty to Hyerim gnawed at her. As she lay there, listening to Yoonwoo’s steady breathing, Jieun realized she needed to confront these emotions head-on—before things spiraled even further out of control.
Of course, I might roll over in my sleep and end up closer, but that could happen on the floor, too…
But as she made these excuses to herself, another desire and impulse began to blend in.
If I’m going to roll over next to Yoonwoo while sleeping anyway… why not just start now? If Hyerim comes in the morning and says anything, I can just say I did it in my sleep, right?
Jieun usually cuddled a pillow while sleeping, but Yoonwoo was using it now. If she reached for it in her sleep and ended up next to him… well, that could be a convenient explanation.
With this reasoning, she saw no point in keeping her distance. Jieun inched closer until she was almost touching Yoonwoo. His steady breathing filled the quiet room.
When Jieun lay alone in this large bed, the extra space felt hollow and lonely. Whenever Hyerim came over to visit, the words “We can share a bed” almost slipped out, but she refrained, fearing it would make her seem childish.
Being alone in this large house, sleeping alone in this large bed felt terribly lonely. That’s why Jieun always curled up and hugged a pillow tightly when she slept. Maybe that’s why, as she lay beside Yoonwoo and listened to his breathing, she was reminded of her childhood, when her mom would sing the theme song of her favorite cartoon until she fell asleep.
“What is this fluttering feeling? I can’t sleep, maybe I’m dreaming, I don’t know.”
Would her mom be able to fight off a monster if it suddenly leaped from the closet? Or would they have to run away together? Jieun often drifted off to sleep pondering such thoughts. The comfort came from having someone to face the fear with, to discuss it, regardless of whether they could defeat the monster or not. But now, something felt missing. Was it because her mom was a woman and Yoonwoo a man? No, that didn’t seem quite right…
“Hey, lower your arm,” she murmured.
Yoonwoo slept with his hands neatly folded on his stomach. Jieun wanted to move his arm, recalling how her mom used to make an arm pillow for her as a child. Lost in nostalgia, she forgot all about maintaining a defensible excuse for Hyerim.
She tried to unclasp Yoonwoo’s interlocked fingers with some effort.
He stirred slightly, mumbling incoherently, but didn’t wake. Jieun nestled against him, her head finding a natural resting place on his arm.
The warmth of human contact, Yoonwoo’s familiar scent, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat quickly lulled Jieun toward sleep. She curled closer, her face pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around him.
Through all this, Yoonwoo didn’t stir. His usual dependence on sleep medication meant that without it, even the slightest disturbance would normally jolt him awake. But tonight, the liquor had done what pills usually did.
Yoonwoo woke up hours later. Though conscious, he felt too dizzy to open his eyes, and oddly, one arm was numb. Thirsty from dehydration, he also sensed something pressing against him. Curious, he cautiously reached out with his free hand, encountering warmth and a fluffy texture.
A hazy memory surfaced—some internet story about a stray cat sneaking into someone’s apartment. The idea didn’t seem far-fetched. After all, there was that small hole in his window screen he’d been meaning to fix. In his half-awake state, Yoonwoo failed to realize he wasn’t in his own cramped studio.
He’d always been fond of cats. As a child, on days he was scolded and kicked out of his house, he’d seek comfort playing with strays in nearby alleys. As an adult, such chances were rare. The cats near his school, though friendly, were too popular—always surrounded by photo-snapping students—for Yoonwoo to approach.
He saw this as a golden opportunity. His thirst could wait; he wanted to touch the cat before it fled. With this in mind, Yoonwoo carefully, slowly extended his hand toward the presumed feline.
The sensation was… odd. Pleasant, yes—soft and plush. But something nagged at the edges of Yoonwoo’s consciousness. The fur lacked the slight greasiness he remembered from childhood pets. It moved too freely beneath his fingers.
Unease began to creep in. Korean strays were usually short-haired, but this coat was long and luxurious. And the head—it felt oversized for a cat. A Maine Coon, perhaps? But the odds of such a rare breed wandering into his tiny studio seemed astronomical.
No way… It can’t be, right? No way…
Heart pounding, Yoonwoo’s hand cautiously explored the fur. His gentle touch eventually found a small, round, spiral-shaped area at the fur’s base… A swirl. A feature uniquely human scalp.
Oh shit, it’s a person!