My Sweet Patience

Early one dawn, as a bitter, piercing wind swept through the streets, Je-hee fell in love at first sight with Si-woon—the designated driver dispatched to his car.

“…Do you happen to have a business card?”
“I don’t carry cards on me, but… would you like my number instead?”

Armed with that convenient excuse, Je-hee kept the connection alive. Whenever the slightest window opened, he manufactured reasons to cross paths with Si-woon, turning the charm up to downright shameless levels.

“I’m scared I might slip and fall. Would it be okay if we held hands? With our fingers laced?”
“…Yes.”
“Linking arms is pushing it, I take it?”

When Si-woon didn’t push him away despite his laughably transparent schemes, Je-hee only grew bolder, mounting an increasingly brazen, affectionate offensive….

“Ah—!”

Was it because his vision was obscured? Si-woon shuddered at the faintest contact, acutely sensitive.

All Je-hee had done was lightly stroke the rim of his ear. Si-woon was mortified at himself for letting out such an embarrassing moan, but merely trying to steady his trembling body took everything he had; he had no composure left to spare for anything else.

“You… hngh… keep… ngh… brushing against me there.”
“Hmm? Against what?”
“…My chest.”
“I’m not brushing against it. I’m touching it on purpose.”

Following that brazen retort, Je-hee pressed directly down on the contour jutting beneath the fabric. Even without stripping off his clothes, the bud stood out in plain, peaked relief—and Je-hee found the sight irresistibly endearing.