Just Twilight

Chapter 39

“Oh, these? I borrowed them because... circumstances,” Junyoung began to explain, only to realize she had nothing else to change into after washing up. She hadn’t expected to get so drenched, nor had she planned to stay for several days. All she had packed were essential documents, as she’d intended to commute back and forth to Seoul.

The town center is nearby, right?

“This room’s the cleanest we’ve got compared to the others,” the old woman said hesitantly, reaching for the doorknob. She flipped on a light switch, revealing a room with yellowed wallpaper and a faint musty smell. Junyoung couldn’t help but sigh but still nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I’ll stay here. By the way, which way is the town center? I need to buy some clothes.”

A neat shirt and slacks would suffice, as she had no formal meetings to attend. It wouldn’t hurt to pick up an extra set of underwear as well.

The old woman gestured toward the door. “Just head down the road a bit. It’s not far, but it’s dark out. You should eat first, then ask Kim to drive you there.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re not on those kinds of terms,” Junyoung replied curtly.

The old woman chuckled. “And yet, here you are, following him home. Go wash up. Want me to grab you some comfy pants?”

Junyoung opened her mouth to protest but was left speechless. Before she could say anything, the old woman disappeared into another room and returned with a pair of brightly patterned floral pants.

“They’re clean, don’t worry. These’ll be comfortable if you’re planning to sleep in them.”

Junyoung hesitated, unused to receiving such casual kindness. But the old woman didn’t wait for her response, hurrying off to the kitchen.

Left standing awkwardly in the yard with the floral pants in hand, Junyoung turned her head and caught sight of Beomjin watching her. He gave a brief shake of his head and walked into his room. Junyoung glared after him before heading into her assigned room.

What am I even doing right now?

The floor was damp and sticky, making it clear this wasn’t the place to rest and recover from exhaustion. There was no bathtub and likely no hot water, either.

As she peeled off her still-damp skirt, she ground her teeth.

Just wait, Kwon Beomjin. I’m going to dig up every last memory you thought you’d forgotten.

***

After changing into the floral pants, Junyoung sat quietly in her room until the old woman called her outside. She stepped into the yard just as Beomjin emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung around his neck. His wet hair was slicked back, revealing his full face for the first time.

He hadn’t changed.

His features were a little sharper, a little stronger, but it was unmistakably Kwon Beomjin. Thick eyebrows framed his piercing eyes, which carried the same sharp but refreshing intensity. His stubbornly defined nose and dark, striking gaze completed the familiar picture.

It felt strange, as if she were being pulled back to that time in the past—or as if her younger self had been transported to the present.

...How many black T-shirts does he even own?

Wearing the shirt he’d lent her and nothing else, Junyoung felt uncharacteristically self-conscious. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Does the hot water work?”

“It doesn’t,” he replied curtly, brushing past her.

Her mouth twitched in annoyance as she glanced back at him, then stepped into the bathroom. To her relief, the water was lukewarm at best. She decided to delay her shower, quickly washed her hands, and returned outside at the old woman’s call.

The kimchi stew, more like a pork-filled braise, was delicious. The sides—a slightly scorched steamed egg and lettuce wraps—paired perfectly with the freshly cooked rice.

Junyoung sat confidently at the table in her floral pants, eating without a hint of embarrassment. She noticed that Beomjin’s gaze never once strayed toward her.

The old woman seemed curious about their relationship, though she didn’t pry directly. Instead, she subtly encouraged them to interact.

“She’s a young lady, so she probably has a lot of needs. You should take her to the town center after dinner.”

“She can just get what she needs when she moves to a hotel tomorrow,” Beomjin muttered.

No, don’t overthink it. Thinking about it will just give you a headache.

Shaking her head, Junyoung handed over her card. With the purchase complete, she exited the store, carrying her shopping bag, and glanced around for Beomjin. She spotted him nearby, holding a plastic bag and talking on the phone. He even seemed to be smiling.

...It’s not a girlfriend, is it?

Her eyes narrowed as she stood at the crosswalk. The red light seemed unbearably long. Staring intently at it, she bolted the moment it turned green.

Suddenly, a loud screeching sound filled the air. Something hurtled toward her. Startled, she tried to sidestep but tripped and fell onto the ground.

An oncoming motorcycle came to an abrupt halt just in front of her. The rider lifted the visor of his helmet and shouted angrily.

“You can’t just run out like that!”

It was a green light, you idiot.

Junyoung wanted to scream and grab him by the collar, but her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t get the words out.

The motorcyclist gestured toward the onlookers who had paused mid-crossing.

“I didn’t hit her! She just fell on her own.”

“Junyoung!”

Her head whipped around at the sound of her name, spoken sharply and unmistakably by someone familiar. She turned to see Beomjin sprinting toward her from across the street.

The motorcyclist, clearly alarmed, sped off without a second glance.

Still sitting on the ground, Junyoung looked up as Beomjin knelt beside her. His large hand gripped her shoulder tightly.

“Are you hurt? Did that bastard hit you? Damn it...”

“No, no, I wasn’t hit. I just got scared and fell,” she said, blinking rapidly. Reaching out for her shopping bag, she saw him snatch it up first before helping her to her feet.

As she slowly stood, she realized her legs were fine—except for a stinging sensation at her knee. Glancing down, she noticed blood seeping through a tear in her pants.

“Let’s get off the street first. Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Junyoung allowed herself to be guided to a bench nearby. Her heart was still pounding, though whether it was from the scare or something else, she couldn’t be sure.

Practically dragging her, his arm firmly around her back and shoulder, Beomjin led her to the bench and made her sit down.

“Put your leg up. Does it hurt when you move your ankle? Any pain here? Or here?” he asked, firing off questions as he knelt to examine her leg.

Why does he look like he’s about to murder someone? Technically, I’m the victim here.

Watching him press lightly on her leg and glance up for her reactions, she shook her head.

“What should I do about my pants? Do you think the old lady treasures these?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? We’re going to the hospital. Just because you feel fine now doesn’t mean you are.”

His low, firm voice left no room for argument. His intense expression as he glanced in the direction the motorcycle had sped off made Junyoung chuckle nervously.

“Really, I just fell. It didn’t even touch me. But...”

She took a deep breath, drawing his gaze back to her. Junyoung stared at him for a long moment before speaking.

“So, you didn’t forget me after all, Kwon Beomjin.”