Just Twilight-Chapter 86

“Hurry.”

Completely ignoring her words, he kept patting his knee insistently.

With a resigned shake of her head, Junyoung trudged over and sat beside him. The moment she did, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her in as if he wouldn’t let go until she fully leaned against him.

“Ugh—wait, I can’t breathe.”

She squirmed against his iron grip, but it was no use. Finally, giving up, she let her body go slack and rested her head against his chest. The warmth of his alcohol-flushed skin radiated through his clothes. His heartbeat was strong and steady, echoing in her ears.

He pressed his lips gently to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.

Junyoung absentmindedly played with the fabric of his sleeve, mumbling,

“You didn’t call me once in four days.”

“Neither did you.”

“I knew why you weren’t calling. I was just being stubborn.”

At her brazen confession, Beomjin sighed. He fumbled for her hand and held it, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“Your knee.”

“Healed. It just itches now.”

“Why didn’t you eat lunch yesterday?”

…Park Samdu, you little…

Silently cursing Beomjin’s ever-faithful spy, Junyoung tugged on his fingers.

“Because the meeting ran until two. Didn’t hear from your informant that Deputy Jeong grabbed a sandwich around three?”

Beomjin let out a small “hm”, clearly confirming what he already knew. He had only asked for reassurance. Her husband was incredibly particular about meals.

“Why are you sitting here, anyway?”

Glancing toward the bed, Junyoung asked quietly. She had once overheard the doctors say that her mother’s condition seemed to improve after she or Beomjin visited. Not that she fully believed it.

“Just got back from my trip.”

His voice was small.

“And it’s a good place to complain about you.”

Junyoung chuckled. Fair enough. Who else was he supposed to vent about her to?

“Alright. Go ahead, get it all out. I talk about you to my mom, too.”

“That’s unfair. What would she think of me?”

“Oh, please. You only complain because I run around like a wild horse sometimes.”

At her teasing, Beomjin calmly countered,

“A wild horse that causes trouble every time she runs.”

“Hey, Kwon Beomjin.”

“And never listens. Never.”

…Who was really the one not listening here?

Annoying as it was, seeing him like this was kind of amusing.

When she tried to push away from his chest, he looked at her with half-lidded, disapproving eyes. Despite the sharpness of his gaze, his dark pupils gleamed with unmistakable affection.

Clicking his tongue, he muttered,

“Damn, you’re cute.”

His fingers found her nose and pinched it lightly.

As if he didn’t already adore her to death.

Biting her lip to suppress a smile, Junyoung watched as he shifted, pulling something from inside his jacket.

“What’s that?”

“A present.”

He held something small out to her.

She blinked and took the little envelope from his hand. Inside was a tiny, firm object. Slowly opening it, she found a hairpin—adorned with a star-shaped crystal.

“Let me put it on you.”

Beomjin reached for the pin.

Junyoung instinctively tried to dodge his hand.

“Wait. You seriously expect me to wear this? Hold on, Kwon Beomjin—ah, ow, my hair!”

His clumsy fingers tugged at her strands, making her tilt her head in protest. Eventually, he managed to fasten it to the left side of her hair and tapped it twice with his fingers.

She scowled at him, wondering how the hell she was supposed to react to this kind of drunken nonsense.

Then she saw his smile.

It was soft.

Almost delicate.

She hadn’t realized before—how that typically sharp and stoic face could melt into something so sweet, like cotton candy dissolving on her tongue.

The effect was unexpectedly strong.

Caught off guard by the warmth in his expression, she only blinked at him.

Then his fingers brushed against her cheek.

“You look pretty, Yoon Junyoung.”

She could tell the pin wasn’t sitting right—it felt awkwardly off-balance on her head.

But when Kwon Beomjin looked at her like that and said she was pretty, then she was.

Her chest tightened slightly. Narrowing her eyes playfully, she smirked.

“Do something even cuter, then.”

“Your mother is watching.”

With an exaggerated tsk, Beomjin placed his hand on her forehead and pushed her face back.

Scowling, Junyoung started to protest, only for him to suddenly tighten his arms around her.

“What the—so you push me away, but now you’re hugging me again? Let go.”

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“Junyoung.”

“I said, let go.”

Ignoring her sharp tone, Beomjin buried his face into her hair and began kissing her—on her crown, her temple, her cheek, her jawline.

His lips lingered against her neck, the ticklish sensation making her squirm. But his grip was firm, leaving her no room to escape.

This was ridiculous.

Junyoung scowled, her voice dripping with exasperation.

“Hey, Kwon Beomjin. What happened to ‘your mother is watching’?”

“You’re the one who can’t do it.”

His nose brushed against her cheek as he murmured.

Junyoung let out a sharp scoff.

“And why is that?”

“Because once you start, you won’t stop.”

His reply was so immediate, so certain, that Junyoung’s mouth fell open.

And yet, the man who had just said it so casually continued holding her tighter, pressing gentle kisses along her skin.

…Well.

Should she be encouraging him to drink more baijiu next time, or not?

With a sigh, Junyoung gave up and simply leaned into his embrace.

All she could do now was laugh.

***

The first thing that stirred him awake was the scent of coffee.

Without realizing it, Beomjin took a deep breath. But it wasn’t just the coffee in the air. The lingering scent of Junyoung on the blankets wrapped around him, surrounding him in a soft warmth.

It was sweet and familiar—so much so that he didn’t want to open his eyes.

He was home. The home where Yoon Junyoung was.

The word home had only started feeling special after meeting her. The shape of it didn’t matter to him. It was just a matter of convenience. As long as Junyoung was there, that was all he needed.

With a pop, the toaster ejected the bread.

A part of him wanted to stay buried in this comfortable warmth a little longer. But a stronger part wanted to confirm with his own eyes that she was real.

Opening his eyes, Beomjin sat up. A cool breeze drifted in from somewhere—she must have opened a window.

When he stepped into the living room, Junyoung was moving a slice of toast onto a plate, just about to open a jar of jam. Their eyes met.

“Why are you up so early?”

His voice was still low and drowsy as he poured himself a glass of water.

Narrowing her eyes, Junyoung held the jam out toward him.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

Her tone carried a note of accusation. Holding the water to his lips, he silently waited.

Junyoung tugged at the collar of her oversized T-shirt, pulling it to the side to reveal her shoulder.

“Look at this. All night long, you bit and sucked at me like a damn vampire. See these marks? Good for you, Kwon Beomjin, you’ve got great teeth. And if the back of your head hurts, it’s because I hit you.”

Junyoung had a habit of wearing his T-shirts as pajamas. Beomjin liked it, but sometimes, when she didn’t bother with bottoms, the sight of her bare legs made his head spin.

Like now.

His body’s reaction was almost instantaneous—impressively fast, even for him.

He had been about to accept the jam and make peace, but then his eyes caught something.

Junyoung had swept her hair to the side and pinned it back, revealing the back of her head. There, two hairpins were clipped in an overlapping pattern.

The shapes were similar, but the sparkle was noticeably different.

One of them—slightly larger and clearly older—he recognized instantly.

Because it was the first women’s hairpin he had ever bought with his own hands.

“That…”

The words barely made it out, his throat suddenly tight.

Junyoung, who had been spreading jam onto her toast, looked up.

“Hm?”

“You… still have that?”

His voice was hoarse.

The hairpin had been something he left behind in the old house, intending to give it to her. Until last night, when he saw a similar one while wandering around in his drunken haze, he had forgotten all about it.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but he hadn’t been able to just walk past it. Because he had wanted—desperately—to see Junyoung wearing it.

“I tore that house apart back then, wondering if you had left me any kind of note. Found this behind a ramen packet.”

Junyoung slathered an extra spoonful of jam onto her toast and continued.

“But I wasn’t sure if you really bought it. I mean, maybe it was left behind by whoever lived there before us. I never touched the ramen cupboard, after all. But just in case it was yours, I couldn’t leave it behind. Even though I never actually wore it.”

Beomjin exhaled, overwhelmed.

For a moment, the memories of that house—of that night—flooded back vividly, as if it had all just happened.

Licking the jam off her finger, Junyoung shrugged.

“When you gave me that hairpin yesterday, I knew for sure. It really was yours.”

How was it that everything about her felt like it was meant for him?

Her face, her voice, her way of speaking, even the coincidences that brushed past her.

Loving her was inevitable. With his whole body and heart.

“Yoon Junyoung.”

“Wait. What’s with that look? Stay right there. It’s broad daylight. Aren’t you hungry? Shouldn’t you be eating breakfast?”

She had just taken a bite of her toast but quickly set it down, instinctively stepping back.

Like a predator closing in, Beomjin slowly advanced.

“The only thing I’m hungry for right now is you.”

“…You’re impossible. You are never drinking baijiu again. Your drunk habits are too weird—ah!”

Trying to escape, Junyoung ended up caught in his arms with a startled yelp.

Lifting her effortlessly, Beomjin carried her toward the bedroom.

When he laid her down on the bed, her T-shirt had ridden up slightly.

She really had no idea what she looked like to him.

His fingers traced the smooth curve of her stomach, skimming over the simple cotton underwear and down the length of her legs.

Junyoung shot him a sharp look.

“I’m hungry. I haven’t even had a bite of my toast yet!”

“So hungry you can’t wait?”

Beomjin caged her between his arms, looking down at her.

His body was already burning up.

Slowly, he pressed his legs against hers and whispered,

“Hm? Junyoung?”

Her large eyes wavered.

That face—her slightly narrowed gaze, the way her lips parted just slightly—that was her tell.

That was how he knew she wasn’t really resisting.

Beomjin ran a hand down her cheek. Her skin was warm, smooth, and addictive to touch. His heart pounded.

“I missed you. The whole four days.”

Truthfully, he always missed her. Even now, with her right in front of him.

Her gaze locked onto his. He could feel her surrender in the way she let out a soft breath, her hands reaching up to curl around the back of his neck.

“I know. But seriously, you need better taste in hairpins—”

Her words were swallowed as their lips met.

A breathy sigh slipped out.

Clothes slipped away, drifting lazily to the floor.

The winter wind crept in through the open window, cold and crisp.

But inside the bedroom, only warmth remained.

It was just twilight.

fin.