"Excuse me," Joo Dong-mi said, her gaze shifting between them. "But how do you two know each other?"
Ji-woo met Seo Tae-joon’s stubborn gaze. "He's my... employee."
If this was all because of his syndrome... she had to know. Was this passion, or was it the disease?
"Why leave out the part where we sleep together every night?" Seo Tae-joon countered with a laugh. The sound was so sharp that Joo Dong-mi’s eyes went wide as she tried to read the sudden shift in the room.
An abrupt silence fell over them.
"Ah, is that right?" Joo Dong-mi’s posture, stiff for a moment, relaxed into a knowing nonchalance. "Well, you're young. It's practically a necessity for this generation." She radiated an effortless confidence.
"Then can I have a business card?"
"He doesn't have one yet, but I do. Will this be alright?" Ji-woo offered her own card. Joo Dong-mi accepted it with a polite bow.
"You're a tree doctor?" Her eyes widened in genuine delight as she looked up at Ji-woo, then slid back to Seo Tae-joon, her lips parting in a suggestive smile.
"So, how does a tree hospital employee manage to take down a boar with an axe? Isn't that a bit of a waste of your talents? What exactly do you do at the hospital?" she asked him.
"I trim flowers," Seo Tae-joon answered flatly.
"F-flowers?" The eager light in her eyes flickered out. Frowning, she turned her attention back to Ji-woo. "By the way, we sometimes damage trees during mountain rescues. Could I contact you then?"
Ji-woo, who had never acquired a client quite like this, was momentarily flustered but quickly nodded. "Of course! We would be happy to help."
Throughout the exchange, Joo Dong-mi’s hungry gaze kept returning to Seo Tae-joon. The fact that he was holding another woman's hand and clearly only had eyes for her didn't seem to deter her in the slightest. Her self-assurance was almost a physical force.
Even though Seo Tae-joon was supposed to be the one on trial here, Ji-woo felt as if she were the one being tested.
"I hope you get well quickly," Joo Dong-mi said to him, her smile bright. "And next time we meet, please tell me your name first."
And with that, she was gone, a whirlwind that had blown through and vanished. Her co-workers gathered around, patting her on the back as they departed.
"I don't know what that was all about, Ji-woo," Seo Tae-joon said, his voice low and dangerous. "Employee? Was that really the best you could come up with? Why do you keep throwing me under the bus?"
His glare was unnervingly intense. Ji-woo swallowed hard.
"What if I had decided to do something?" he pressed.
"Well… Joo Dong-mi…," Ji-woo began, trying to explain.
"Joo Dong-mi again?" He pushed himself off the bed and strode toward her. His shadow fell over her, a looming presence. He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "You wouldn't know, would you? You only ever touch trees." His eyes, fixed on hers, held a strange light. "You're treating your own dog like dirt, Ji-woo."
Neither of them spoke a word on the drive home. Seo Tae-joon stared out the passenger window while Ji-woo kept her eyes fixed on the road.
The air in the car was thick with tension.
Ji-woo’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and met his. He had been watching her. He raised an eyebrow slightly, but beneath the gesture, she saw a flicker of dark amusement.
Startled, Ji-woo looked away. Her mouth went dry, her heart thudding against her ribs. She could still feel his stare, a physical pressure on the side of her face. The sensation of his gaze crawling on her skin remained until the moment they pulled up to the house.
The silence had been suffocating.
The second they were inside, Seo Tae-joon tore his shirt off over his head. The hard cast on his wrist was stark white against his skin. Clean bandages were wrapped tightly around his torso, a sharp contrast to the dried blood crusted in his hair and streaked on his face.
He turned to face her. "Wash me."
"What? M-me?"
"If a dog is dirty, the owner should wash it," he said, his voice even. "And I'm your dog, aren't I?"
Ji-woo was speechless.
"It's basic care," he continued, scratching the back of his head. "But I suppose you only know how to handle trees, so maybe you wouldn't know."
"You told me not to serve you!"
"Service is an act performed without expectation of a reward." He smiled as he closed the distance between them. "I have every intention of reciprocating, many times over. Did you think I was just a freeloader? You're not getting a free ride, either."
Ji-woo couldn't find a single word to say.
"So, wash me."
His tone was calm, but it rooted her to the spot. The tub was small. Seo Tae-joon lay back in it, his feet propped on the far edge. Every small movement sent water sloshing onto the tile floor. The dried blood in his hair began to dissolve, trickling down and swirling like ink in the clear water.
He leaned his head back, his gaze locked on her. Droplets of water clung to his skin. Ji-woo frowned.
"Your bandages are soaked!" she said.
"It doesn't matter. You said the doctor is coming back." His voice was relaxed, almost lulled by the warm water.
"Then why did you get in with your pants on?" she asked, incredulous.
"Couldn't undo the buckle. My hand hurts."
"You don't expect me to believe that, do you?" It was the most absurd excuse she had ever heard. A man who could kill a wild boar was suddenly too fragile to unbuckle his own pants. The audacity of it was breathtaking. "You could have used your other hand."
"I tried," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Couldn't do it. It was miserable."
He rubbed his cheek with his uninjured hand, his other arm resting along the edge of the tub. His eyes never left her face. Deep and unreadable, they seemed to be smiling at her.