He slipped the rubber band from the cluster of flowers he’d picked. Gathering her hair, he prepared to tie it back, but his eyes caught on the delicate nape of her neck. “Hwang Jo-yoon won’t be a problem anymore,” he said, feeling her body stiffen at his words. “So you don’t need to worry,” he added, his voice softening.
Ji-woo touched her hair, the unfamiliar feeling of it being tied up making her movements awkward. “So pretty,” Seo Tae-joon murmured.
“Um… me?” she asked.
A faint smile touched his lips as he leaned against the table. “You can hide behind those baggy work clothes all you want,” he said, “but it doesn’t fool me. I know exactly how pretty you are when you come to bed at night after your shower.”
A blush crept up Ji-woo’s neck, stealing her voice.
“Do you have any idea,” he continued, his voice low, “how that drives me crazy?”
She stood frozen for a moment before covering her face with both hands.
The scarlet light of sunset washed over her small back as she worked. Ji-woo, her hands protected by surgical gloves, moved with a practiced grace, cleaning out the flower bed. She touched the plants gently, her fingers tilling the soil around their roots, watering them, and pruning away ragged branches and withered offshoots. Her focus was absolute. Seo Tae-joon watched, mesmerized, a selfish wish forming in his heart that she might turn even a fraction of that tender care toward him.
Did she take care of me like that when I was in a vegetative state? he wondered, unable to look away. Ji-woo reminded him of some small, timid creature from a fairy tale. The attraction he felt was a physical pull, a primal urge to spirit her away to a place where no one else could ever see her.
She hid herself behind layers of drab clothing and a veneer of garden dirt, but Seo Tae-joon saw what lay beneath: a fidgety girl with soft skin and a constellation of scars. He was enthralled by her small, straight nose, her lovely eyes, her red lips. She seemed utterly oblivious to her own beauty.
Seo Tae-joon tried to tear his gaze away, but it was no use. The more he looked, the more he ached to be closer. She just strokes a tiny leaf, and my whole body trembles…
Time seemed to stretch, moving at a syrupy pace. At last, Ji-woo wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her glove and caressed a bloom as if praising it. She gathered a few fallen petals from the ground, then turned and, to his astonishment, gave him a sudden, brilliant smile.
He was taken aback. It was the first time since they had met that she had looked at him with such genuine brightness. He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists. That one smile seemed to contain all the happiness in the world.
‘You… Are you really Han Ji-woo’s husband?… Bring me proof. Show me proof that you guys are married!’
Hwang Jo-yoon’s taunt echoed in his mind. He watched her for a moment longer.
“Ji-woo,” he said, his voice calm. “Have you ever tried sucking the nectar from a flower?”
“Ah… I did, a few times, when I was little.”
“Then teach me.”
“Teach you what?” she asked, her hands cupped around the fragile petals.
Seo Tae-joon walked to the garden wall and plucked a white acacia blossom from its branch. Ji-woo flinched, as if to stop him, but it was over in an instant.
“I want you to teach me how to suck and lick it,” he said, his gaze intense, “all the way to the bottom.”
She stared at him, perplexed.
“Because I don’t want to leave anything behind.”
The petals fluttered from her hands, scattering in the wind. He held only a single acacia, but in that moment, it reminded her of the helpless chicken he had killed. Ji-woo held her breath. Seo Tae-joon raised the flower to her mouth.
“You have to demonstrate first.”
Her face was pale and expressionless. As Ji-woo hesitantly drew the nectar from the flower, his gaze remained fixed, studying the movement of her lips.
“One more time.”
He pressed the flower to her mouth again. A cool fingertip brushed against her lower lip.
“Is it good?”
“Well… I think it tasted good when I was young, but it’s not as sweet as I remember. Maybe I’m just used to sweeter snacks now…”
“Then how about using your tongue?”
“What?” Her eyes widened.
“If you look here,” he said, pointing to the delicate base of the blossom, “there’s a little hole where the nectar comes out.”
“So you just suck it, and that’s it?” she asked.
“Couldn’t you get more by putting your tongue in the hole? It’s a waste to leave any. Try it.” He offered her the flower again, urging her on. She felt a strange tension in the air, a sense that something was deeply wrong with this, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
She glanced at him warily before tentatively touching the tip of her tongue to the acacia. A short, low laugh escaped him, and her face burned with color. She was so embarrassed for falling for his game. “This isn’t how I usually do it!”
“Then how?”
“I just… chew on the tip a little.”
“You chew it?”
“Yes, if you chew it, the rest of the nectar pops out…”
Seo Tae-joon’s shadow fell over her. Ji-woo felt a primal fear that if she moved any closer, that shadow would swallow her whole. “It’s actually not bad like that,” he said, bringing a flower to his own lips, though his eyes never left her.
“Ji-woo.” He reached out and brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. She flinched back from his touch. “Sorry,” he said smoothly. “Some honey dripped.”
Liar. Ji-woo knew perfectly well there was nothing on her face. Nevertheless, the heat of his touch sent another blush across her cheeks.
He smiled faintly. “I think I prefer to peel the petals off first.”