The mansion had finally gone quiet after the rain.
Not completely quiet.
Just softer.
The kind of silence that came after too much laughter.
Ji-Ah pushed open her bedroom door with a sigh.
Her clothes were still damp, hair dripping onto the floor behind her in tiny trails. She rubbed her arms once, shivering lightly.
"…worth it," she muttered.
A knock came almost immediately.
She blinked. "Who is it?"
"Me."
Ha-Joon.
Of course.
She opened the door halfway.
He stood there freshly changed already, dark shirt, sleeves rolled once, hair still slightly damp from his own shower.
And in his hand a towel.
Ji-Ah looked at it.
Then at him. "…what's that."
"A towel."
"I can see that."
"You're dripping water across the hallway."
"That sounds like a mansion problem."
"It becomes my problem when someone slips and dies."
She scoffed. "So dramatic."
"You were standing in a thunderstorm."
"And you joined me."
A pause.
"…unfortunately."
He held the towel out toward her.
She stared at it.
Didn't take it.
Instead she turned and walked further into the room. "I'll dry eventually."
"Like laundry?"
"Yes."
Ha-Joon sighed softly and stepped inside anyway, closing the door behind him. "Sit."
"No."
"Ji-Ah."
"Fine."
She dropped dramatically onto the edge of the bed like someone being forced into injustice.
"You treat me like a child."
"You act like one."
"You came into the rain too."
"I regret it."
"You looked happy."
"I was cold."
"You smiled."
"I did not."
"You almost did."
He moved behind her then, unfolding the towel once.
Ji-Ah blinked.
"…what are you doing?"
"Drying your hair."
"I can do it myself."
"You weren't."
Before she could argue again the towel settled gently over her head.
Then his hands began rubbing her hair carefully, drying the rainwater slowly.
Ji-Ah went still.
Not because it hurt.
Because it didn't.
The movement was calm.
Steady.
Unexpectedly gentle.
"You're going to get sick," he said quietly.
"You sound eighty years old."
"And you sound irresponsible."
"I had fun."
"You nearly froze."
"But I had fun."
He sighed again, continuing to dry her hair. "You never think before doing things."
"That's a lie."
"Then why did you run into the rain barefoot?"
"…dramatic effect."
"That's not thinking."
"That's art."
A tiny smile almost appeared on his face again.
Almost.
Ji-Ah caught it anyway.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're smiling."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"You're hallucinating."
"You definitely are."
Then she said it lightly.
Casually.
Too casually. "…shouldn't you be with your fiancée instead?"
The towel paused for half a second.
Just enough for her to notice.
He looked down at her.
Then flick.
Straight to her forehead.
Ji-Ah gasped dramatically.
"OW?"
"Don't say stupid things."
"That was violence."
"That was correction."
She rubbed her forehead, glaring at him. "You're so rude."
"You're Ji-Ah," he said simply. "Of course you matter more."
Silence.
Instant silence.
Ji-Ah blinked once.
Then twice.
Because that that did something strange to her chest.
Warm.
Unexpected.
Dangerous.
No one had ever heard Ha-Joon say things like that easily.
Not even himself, probably.
And the worst part?
He sounded honest.
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
Which annoyed her immediately. "…you sound weird today."
"You're red."
"I am not."
"You are."
"It's leftover rain."
"You're indoors."
"…shut up."
He finally stepped back slightly.
The towel still in his hands.
Ji-Ah stared at him for one second longer then suddenly snatched the towel away. "Move."
He blinked. "What."
"You're wet too."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. Sit."
"I don't need—"
"Sit down before I emotionally attack you."
A pause.
Then, surprisingly he listened.
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed.
Ji-Ah immediately grabbed the towel and began aggressively drying his hair.
Not gently.
Not gracefully.
Aggressively.
Ha-Joon's head tilted slightly with every rough movement. "…you're trying to remove my scalp."
"You survived the rain. You'll survive this."
"You're violent."
"You flick foreheads."
"Fair point."
She kept rubbing his hair with unnecessary determination.
He just watched her quietly.
Close now.
Too close.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Ji-Ah noticed his eyes first.
Then the fact that he wasn't looking away.
Then the fact that she wasn't either.
The towel slowed.
Neither of them spoke.
Just breathing.
Quiet.
Steady.
Only inches apart now.
Enough to notice tiny things.
Water still caught near his lashes.
The faint scent of rain still lingering.
The way Ji-Ah's hands slowly stopped moving without her realizing.
Then both of them seemed to realize the same thing at once.
Too close.
Ji-Ah cleared her throat first and leaned back quickly.
Ha-Joon looked away slightly. "…your hair's dry."
"You missed a spot."
"You're impossible."
"You're dramatic."
She pointed at the door immediately. "Leave my room."
He stood calmly. "As you wish."
But before leaving, he glanced back once.
And Ji-Ah immediately threw the towel at him. "OUT."