After standing there for some time, looking at the view and hearing the rhythmic thunder of the water colliding against the cliff, a deep sense of relaxation settled over the group.
Hajun remained the most excited; watching the white-capped waves "fighting" each other against the dark basalt was an experience anyone would appreciate, but for a child of his focus, it was pure magic.
Eun-soo eventually looked at her watch, the sea breeze still playing with the hem of her tunic, and turned to the group with a soft smile.
"Does everyone want to spend more time here, or should we head to our next stop?"
The consensus was a gentle move toward their next destination a specialized noodle house famous for its hand-pulled Jeju wheat noodles, a lighter follow-up to their heavy seafood lunch.
As they settled into the smaller, cozy restaurant, Hajun was already quite full from the previous stop, content to sit quietly and draw patterns on a napkin with a stray crayon he'd found.
Eun-soo, however, found herself genuinely enjoying the bowl of steaming noodles placed before her, the savory, clear broth exactly what she had been craving.
She leaned over her bowl, the steam rising to dampen her cheeks, but her long, dark hair kept slipping forward, threatening to dip into the broth with every bite.
She tried tucking a stray lock behind her ear with one hand while holding her chopsticks with the other, but the stubborn strands kept falling back into her way.
Jin-woo, sitting across from her, noticed her subtle struggle the way she tilted her head or used her shoulder to try and pin the hair back.
Without saying a word, he excused himself and walked toward the counter, speaking quietly to a middle-aged woman on the staff.
The staff member smiled warmly and reached into a drawer, handing him a simple, clean elastic hairband.
Jin-woo returned to the table and stepped behind Eun-soo's chair, his presence suddenly looming behind her like a quiet shadow.
Eun-soo froze, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth, as she felt his hands move toward her head.
He didn't ask; he simply began to softly collect her hair, his fingers moving with a surprising, gentle precision as he gathered the silk-like strands.
As he pulled her hair back to tie it, the movement exposed the back of Eun-soo's neck—pale, glowing, and incredibly delicate in the warm restaurant light.
Jin-woo's movements slowed instinctively; his gaze lingered on the soft curve of her nape, a spot so intimate and vulnerable that it seemed to pull the air from his lungs.
The restaurant's hum seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of his own steady breathing and the faint scent of jasmine rising from her skin.
Eun-soo remained perfectly quiet throughout it all, her heart hammering against her ribs, her eyes fixed forward but seeing nothing but the blur of the table.
When his movements lingered a second too long, her voice came out as a tiny, breathless whisper.
"Is it... is it done?"
Jin-woo snapped out of his momentary trance, quickly securing the band and stepping back.
"Done," he said, his voice a fraction deeper than usual. "Done."
He sat back down, picking up his tea with a hand that wasn't quite as steady as he would have liked, while Eun-soo finally took a bite of her noodles, though she could no longer remember exactly how they tasted.