Chapter 12

“Um… about the other night. I’m truly sorry.”

“…?”

At the passenger’s apologetic opening, Si-woon glanced briefly across the console in mild surprise. Ever since climbing into the car a few minutes earlier, Je-hee had been sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the right moment to bring it up.

“You already apologized several times over the phone,” Si-woon said evenly.

“Even so…”

“It’s really all right.”

The unruffled calm in Si-woon’s voice finally allowed Je-hee to release the breath he had been holding, though a dozen anxious questions still circled in his head. Does he really mean that? Did I genuinely not do anything unforgivable? Those two fleeting memory fragments—calling Si-woon by his first name without an honorific and telling him to come closer—still haunted him, and the blank stretches around them were even more terrifying. Worse, when he had checked his wallet the next afternoon, he had been horrified to realize he hadn’t even paid the driving fare that night until he wired it over with a frantic apology text. After confessing his feelings at a café, getting blackout drunk, and stiffing the man on his fare, he had been certain Si-woon would never agree to see him again.

Instead, when Je-hee had phoned the next day bracing himself for a cold brush-off, Si-woon had said something completely unexpected: “Whenever you need a driver, Je-hee-ssi, you can still call me.”

“Si-woon-ssi, you know I’m terrible at taking a polite hint, right? If you say that, I really will keep calling you.”

“I mean it. I really don’t mind, so please don’t worry.”

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

Je-hee still couldn’t fathom what had softened Si-woon’s resolve during that drunken night, yet the reassurance hadn’t sounded like hollow courtesy. Swallowing the last of his pride, he had booked him again for tonight—and sitting here beside him now, he was endlessly glad he had.

Still, one question refused to leave him in peace. “Um, Si-woon-ssi…”

“Yes?”

“That night… I didn’t do anything out of line, did I? I had far too much to drink, so while I remember bits and pieces, the rest is… a little hazy.”

“…”

Where Si-woon had answered immediately just moments ago, a sudden silence fell over the driver’s seat. With every passing second, Je-hee’s palms grew damper against his knees until a low reply finally came.

“…You didn’t.”

Something definitely happened. If nothing had happened, Si-woon wouldn’t have paused like that! Leaning forward in his seat, Je-hee pressed on anxiously. “C-couldn’t you give me just a small hint?”

Pressing his lips together, Si-woon kept his gaze locked straight ahead on the road, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel before he repeated in a slightly unsteady voice, “Nothing happened.”

“…?” As Je-hee stared at his profile, trying to decipher that cryptic refusal, he spotted a deep crimson flush creeping up the shells of Si-woon’s ears. Wait a second. Could that actually be a good sign? The man didn’t look offended or disgusted; he looked thoroughly flustered.

Whatever I did, if he’s still willing to see me—and blushing over it—I’ll take it. It was a shamelessly self-serving conclusion, yet Je-hee had little else to hold on to, and there was no denying that the invisible wall around Si-woon felt noticeably thinner tonight.

Looking closer at the man’s flushed ears, Je-hee noticed something else he had been too nervous to comment on when he first got into the car. “Did you get a haircut?”

“Ah, yes.”

“It really suits you.”

“…Thank you.” Trimmed shorter around the sides and nape, Si-woon’s dark, slightly wavy hair had a soft lift that made him look several years younger. Glancing briefly toward the rearview mirror as if checking how it lay, Si-woon reached up self-consciously to touch his bangs. “I finally had a bit of free time, and the front was getting in my eyes… You noticed right away.”

“Of course I did.”

Je-hee could count on one hand the small changes in Si-woon’s appearance he had been privileged to witness over the months, and the man always looked mildly astonished that anyone paid close enough attention to notice. Watching the faint, involuntary smile tug at the corners of Si-woon’s mouth now was more rewarding than a hundred polite thank-yous. It suits him far too well. The shorter bangs softened his sharp brows and dark eyes so much that Je-hee’s fingers itched to reach across the console and ruffle them.

“…”

Turning his face firmly toward the passenger window before temptation got the better of his common sense, Je-hee blinked as a sudden flurry of white specks whirled past the highway lamps. “Huh? The forecast didn’t mention snow tonight. Did you hear it was supposed to snow?”

“No.” Si-woon eased his foot off the accelerator at once, his shoulders tensing as he scanned the sky ahead.

The first snow of the winter, and I’m watching it with him. Under any other circumstances, Je-hee would have savored the romance of the moment, but out on a late-night expressway, heavy snow was anything but romantic.

“I hope it passes quickly…” Je-hee murmured, cracking the window an inch to let the icy air chase away his drowsiness.

“I hope so too,” Si-woon replied, his brow furrowing as the flakes thickened across the windshield. “…That doesn’t look good.”

Within minutes, the scattered flurries had turned into a blinding curtain of wet snow, coating the black asphalt in white before their eyes. Tightening both hands on the wheel, Si-woon switched on his hazard lights and slowed to a crawl alongside the few other cars braving the expressway. On the navigation screen, their estimated arrival time climbed steadily upward as heavy freight trucks thundered past in the adjacent lanes.

Seeing the rigid tension in Si-woon’s shoulders as he strained to read the vanishing lane markers, Je-hee spoke up. “Why don’t we pull off at the next exit and stop somewhere for the night?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s too dangerous to keep driving in this. There’s no telling how many hours it’ll take to reach Yeonghyeon at this pace, and risking an accident on an icy highway isn’t worth it.” Pointing to the navigation display, Je-hee added, “There’s an interchange just ahead. We should be able to find a motel or inn near the exit, and since tomorrow is Saturday, we don’t have to rush back, right?”

“…” After a brief hesitation, Si-woon gave a slow nod and signaled for the exit ramp, shooting Je-hee a slightly puzzled sideways glance as if wondering why his passenger looked so cheerful in the middle of a blizzard.

As they rolled past the tollgate toward a cluster of neon signs, Je-hee added in his most practical tone, “Ah—there’s no need for us to waste money booking two separate rooms, is there? Sharing one will save on expenses.”

Across the console, the corners of Si-woon’s mouth twitched as though he were fighting back a laugh at the transparent excuse, though he didn’t object as he pulled into the motel lot.

* * *

“Why is there only one…?”

Stepping across the threshold of the motel room a few minutes later, Si-woon stopped dead at the sight of a single king-sized bed dominating the floor and turned back toward Je-hee.

“Huh?” Clasping his hands neatly in front of him, Je-hee put on an expression of wide-eyed astonishment to match Si-woon’s. “I must have selected a double room instead of a twin in the rush at the kiosk. I’m really sorry.”

Si-woon narrowed his eyes slightly, looking as if he half-suspected the choice hadn’t been an accident at all, before glancing toward the small armchair by the window with a resigned sigh. Before the man could volunteer to sleep in the chair, Je-hee quickly changed the subject. “Um… would you like to wash up first?”

“What?” Halfway through slipping off his coat, Si-woon froze.

“It was freezing outside, and since we’re stuck here for the night anyway, you might as well warm up with a hot shower.”

“Ah.” Relaxing his shoulders at the matter-of-fact explanation, Si-woon nodded toward the bathroom door. “Would you mind if I went first, then?”

“Go right ahead.”

The instant the bathroom door latched behind Si-woon, Je-hee pressed a palm flat against his chest and let out a long breath. His nonchalant front had lasted for the exact duration Si-woon was looking at him. He actually didn’t demand we switch rooms. He had half-expected Si-woon to march straight back down to the front desk for a twin room—or insist on sleeping in the car—so the quiet acquiescence felt like a small miracle.

Shwaaa.

Behind the frosted glass door, the shower came on, and the sound of running water alone was enough to make the tips of Je-hee’s ears burn. Get a hold of yourself. It was a grown man taking a shower after driving through a snowstorm; nothing could have been more ordinary. Yet the motel’s paper-thin bathroom partition let every splash carry clearly into the room, forcing Je-hee to grab a complimentary bottle of water from the mini-fridge and drain it in one go just to cool his throat.

There was no point pretending he didn’t want to touch Si-woon. He wanted to kiss him, to pull him close—yet tangled up with that desire was an even simpler wish: he wanted to see the man genuinely rested. Beneath those broad shoulders and that tall frame, Si-woon was leaner than he looked in his heavy winter layers, worn thin by years of subsisting on hurried convenience-store meals and four hours of sleep a night. If Je-hee knew the first thing about cooking, he would have packed lunch boxes for him every day, though showing up unannounced at Si-woon’s office would probably startle the cautious man into retreating again.

He was still trying to think up an unobtrusive excuse to feed Si-woon more often when the bathroom door clicked open and Si-woon stepped out in a cloud of warm steam.

“You can use the bathroom now, Je-hee-ssi.”

“…!”

Startled to find Si-woon standing right beside him in a white bathrobe, Je-hee scrambled to his feet as the clean scent of soap drifted between them. Don’t stare. I want to stare. Both impulses warred fiercely inside him; keeping his eyes fixed on Si-woon would give him away completely, yet tearing his gaze from the damp black hair clinging to the man’s nape and the V of sun-browned skin visible above the loosely knotted sash took every ounce of willpower he possessed.