Did he really mean he was coming right now?

That question was answered exactly thirty minutes later. Just as I was pacing around the house after ending the call, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the garage. Of all times, it happened right after the house staff had finished setting out only my portion of the meal on the table.

I immediately went to the front entrance and waited for Kwon Yido to walk in. As soon as he came through the inner door, I planned to ask what was going on. I was going to explain that I hadn’t meant to sound needy—that it was just something I said without thinking.

“...”

But the moment he stepped through the door, I couldn’t say anything at all.

It wasn’t because of his slightly disheveled appearance, which was rare, but because of what he was holding—something I hadn’t expected at all.

“...What is this.”

A large, lavish bouquet made of bright red roses and baby’s breath. All fresh flowers. The scent hit me as soon as he approached, thick and heady. While I blinked in a daze, he held the bouquet out to me.

“Why are you all the way out here?”

“...”

It didn’t even occur to me ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) to accept the bouquet. His tie was loosened, and a faint crease ran between his brows. The unusually hurried air around him made something deep in my chest ache.

“Is this... for me?”

I asked in a dazed voice, and he softened his expression. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he exhaled a quiet breath, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a gentle arc.

“Why would I buy it for myself?”

His tone was playful. But the next words he spoke were as soft and sincere as could be.

“There’s no one in this house who likes flowers except for you.”

“....”

As if in a trance, I reached out and accepted the bouquet. The instant our fingers brushed, I felt a shock, like a jolt of electricity. This was the second bouquet I’d received from Kwon Yido. The first one hadn’t been handed to me directly, but still—both stirred something strangely unfamiliar.

“I...”

My lips parted, but the words thank you didn’t come out. I was sure I’d said all sorts of polite thanks on the day of our engagement, but now I couldn’t find any words that felt right for this overwhelming feeling.

“...They’re beautiful.”

The words I finally managed were too quiet to reach him. Kwon Yido looked at me in silence for a moment, then nodded in passing with a light tone.

“They are.”

Why was it that single word made the back of my neck burn with embarrassment? Was it because his eyes had been following my face, not the bouquet? He walked past me as if nothing had happened, but I had to stay frozen in place for a while.

We sat down to dinner together for the first time in a while. After Yido had gone upstairs to change, and I had asked the staff to place the bouquet in a vase, we met at the dining table. I’d held the roses for so long that I felt as if their scent was still clinging to my whole body.

The chef, unfazed by Kwon Yido’s sudden return home, prepared a fresh meal. Shrimp glazed with hallabong sauce and an early-season greens salad. The main course was duck, tender and flavorful enough to be pleasantly satisfying.

“Is your mouth feeling better now?”

About halfway through the meal, Yido asked quietly. He probably remembered how I’d winced repeatedly when trying to eat on the first day my mouth had been injured. I pressed my tongue against the spot where it had been torn and nodded.

“It’s a lot better.”

It wasn’t completely healed, but I could eat without discomfort. Even at the height of the pain, I’d mostly stuck to gentle, non-irritating foods, so I’d managed fine.

“That’s good to hear.”

He said it simply and resumed eating without another word. It was such a small comment, but the look in his eyes made it clear how genuinely relieved he was, and it left me speechless. Someone so habitually curt—whenever he showed moments like this, it always threw me off.

“You seem really busy these days...”

I said it slowly, setting my chopsticks down. Maybe I’d gotten high off the flowers. I felt strangely lightheaded.

“I’m a little worried that you forced yourself to come home.”

It felt like I’d thrown a childish tantrum and dragged him home. I could try to justify it by saying it was around quitting time anyway, but anyone could see he’d come back because of me. Especially with that bouquet in hand.

“Well, if you knew why I’ve been busy, you’d realize how pointless that worry is.”

He let out a dry laugh and set his spoon down. Maybe he’d finished eating. He took a sip of water and stood from his seat.

“If you’re up for it, come downstairs with me for a bit.”

It gave me a strange sense of déjà vu. There was a time before when he’d said something similar as we left the dining table. Was it the day he handed me those two sets of car keys?

The thought had barely crossed my mind when he looked at me and tilted his head slightly.

“Your car arrived, Sejin.”

***

The car Kwon Yido had promised me was a brand-new white sedan from M brand. It was their most popular line—refreshed with a classic design that showcased the company’s strengths. It had been released as a limited edition in Korea, so there couldn’t be many of them. Yido must’ve pulled strings to get his hands on one.

“It already passed inspection, but I wanted to double-check a few things myself, so it took a bit longer. Can’t have a gift car showing defects, right?”

With the keys in hand, he launched into a detailed explanation. New technology M had applied this year, safety systems designed to protect the driver—he spoke fluently, like a professional dealer, which suited his hobby of collecting cars.

“I chose the options myself. If you don’t like the interior design, just say the word. I’ll have it redone.”

Even to someone like me, who knew nothing about cars, this one seemed objectively beautiful. I didn’t even like white, but the moment I saw it, it pulled at me. Through the windshield, I could see the interior was finished in a bright beige tone—not common among standard cars.

“Thank you. I really like it.”

When I said that, Yido looked pleased and handed me the keys. The silver-engraved brand logo gleamed in my hand. It was officially mine now—something I’d never be returning to him. Why had it taken so much just to receive this one thing? As I fell into that bittersweet reflection, Yido spoke as if reading my mind.

“Who knew giving someone a car could be this hard?”

“...Haha.”

I avoided his gaze and laughed faintly. When I finally added a thank-you, he reached toward me. He pressed the unlock button on the key I was holding, and the car's headlights flicked on as he gestured toward it.

“Want to take it for a spin?”

The interior was a smooth ivory-toned beige leather. The steering wheel, center console, ceiling, even the seats were all the same texture. Even the dashboard behind the wheel was sleek and well-designed.

I got into the driver’s seat. Yido naturally slipped into the passenger side. I was so used to seeing him sit in the back that it felt oddly unfamiliar. As I fastened my seatbelt and adjusted the seat, I noticed him watching me with a hard-to-read expression.

“...Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because it suits you.”

His answer couldn’t have been more effortless. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he spoke in that poised voice of his.

“I like how you look sitting in the car I picked out for you.”

It was an unfiltered sentiment. I started the engine and let out a thin chuckle.

“You say the strangest things. I’m literally surrounded by things you gave me.”

The clothes I was wearing, the shoes, even my phone—they were all things he’d prepared for me. Even my shampoo was something he’d chosen. Was it really such a big deal that I was sitting in a car?

“Only if they’re things you actually like.”

“Well... I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

Since I moved into his home, it had felt like I was gradually discovering preferences I hadn’t even known I had. For example, that I liked cheerful-colored furniture. That I preferred natural floral scents over fruity ones. That I gravitated toward novels without intense conflicts rather than essays.

“I think you know my tastes pretty well.”

“Well... when you’re interested in someone, you naturally learn those things.”

His words always had a certain ambiguity to them. On the surface, it sounded like a reasonable response—but somehow, it still didn’t add up. We’d only met on the day of the engagement, and yet he’d already prepared a room for me by then.

“When did you get your license?”

This too felt like a way to change the subject.

“I got it at twenty. Didn’t start driving until I was twenty-five.”

I’d had a car since I was twenty, but I never used it for school. Even when I needed to go somewhere, I was always followed by a driver or a bodyguard.

“Just so you know, I’m a good driver.”

I said it so he wouldn’t worry. Yido simply nodded as if it were obvious.

“I know. You drive well.”

Something about that short answer made me narrow my eyes suspiciously. He smiled with his usual composure and added:

“You can tell just by how someone handles the car.”

“...”

Since it wasn’t exactly wrong, I started the car without another word. As expected of a brand-new vehicle, its movements were smooth from the first touch. I turned the wheel to the right and asked Yido out of courtesy.

“Is there anywhere you want to go?”

Maybe we could circle around the Han River. I’d heard there were spots where you could pull over and enjoy the view. I’d never actually been there, but I remembered thinking the city lights reflected in the water would be beautiful.

“Let’s take a drive along the Han River.”

“...”

My hand on the wheel twitched. He had said exactly what I was thinking. Well, it was a typical and scenic route anyway. As I rationalized it to myself, his soft voice continued.

“There’s a place you can stop for a bit if you follow the main road. To rest.”

“...”

“The lights reflected in the water are beautiful. I think you’ll like it, Sejin.”

Was this a coincidence? Or something he’d orchestrated? If it was the latter, how on earth did he know to say that?

That strange sense of familiarity—like something slightly off—was something I often felt when talking to him. I wanted to question it directly, but part of me also thought I was just being overly sensitive.

“...So you’ve been there before.”

In the end, I gave the most neutral response I could. After I said it, I worried it might come off like I was jealous of his past. Yido paused ever so slightly before replying.

“Once, a long time ago.”

I didn’t ask with whom. Asking that really would’ve made me sound like a petty boyfriend. Not that we were actually in that kind of relationship, but still.

Once we left the garage and pulled onto the road, I began to understand just how nice this car really was. Supposedly its 0-to-60 was much faster than your average sedan. Even the feel of the brakes was different. The steering turned smoothly, and the interior barely shook.

It’s not like I’d ever driven a bad car, but this was easily the most comfortable one I’d ever been in. If it had been a sports car, I probably wouldn’t have felt this way.

“...This car is really nice.”

It was the first time I’d said something from the bottom of my heart about the gift. So this was what they meant by good taste.

Looking calm and unreadable, he spoke while watching the side of my face.

“From what I can tell, Sejin, it’s not that you don’t care about cars. You just hadn’t met one you liked yet.”

I couldn’t turn to look at him while driving, but I imagined he was smiling. That subtle upward curve at the corner of his mouth, maybe a soft narrowing of his eyes. I could picture it perfectly, as if he were right in front of me.

The drive was so pleasant, we reached the Han River in no time. The setting sun had already given way to night, but to me, it all passed in the blink of an eye.

It was the first self-initiated outing I’d had in ages. I was always summoned by my father; now, I was going somewhere I wanted with my own hands. Even if it was a fleeting moment, the wide open road cleared my head.

'I’m not imprisoning you, Sejin.'

I didn’t know why Kwon Yido’s words popped into my head just then. I’d never thought of myself as trapped, but maybe being confined to the house had been stifling after all.

Even as the car moved, Kwon Yido didn’t take his eyes off me. His gaze burned into my skin like a spotlight, but I didn’t look back at him. Not until I pulled over by the river and turned off the engine did I slowly turn my head toward him.

“...”

“...”

Our eyes met in the air between us. He didn’t say a word, and yet I felt completely bound. His unusually dark eyes—lit faintly by the streetlamp—looked like they belonged in a movie scene. Like a tape playing in slow motion, he finally began to speak.

“I’ve been thinking...”

His voice was the only sound inside the car. All other noises were blocked out. It was just the two of us, and his pheromones, which lingered faintly in the enclosed space.

“So this is what it feels like to watch you concentrate.”

He undid his seatbelt. Then his hand reached out—not to my swollen left cheek, but my right side. With his thumb, he gently stroked the corner of my eye, then slipped his fingers back through my hair, combing between the strands.

“...Can I?”

I didn’t need to ask what he was referring to.

Before I could answer, he was already moving toward me—slowly, deliberately. For what felt like a long, thirsty moment, I stared into his eyes, waiting.

“...”

“...”

I let my eyelids fall. A breath—his or mine—was already thick with pheromones. The scent was woody and out of season, cold yet kind, just like him. It filled my lungs, dizzying and sharp.

The hand behind my head slid slowly down to the nape of my neck. Tilting his head, he brushed his tongue across my lips. It hovered there, asking permission, and when I didn’t resist, it pressed deeper.

He moved to the side of my cheek, licking over the place I’d been injured as if to confirm the wound. When I flinched and my lashes trembled, his hand soothed the back of my neck like he was trying to calm me. With every slow, wet motion, he gently let his pheromones bleed into the kiss.

“...”

It wasn’t about arousal.

It was affection. Or maybe territory. Something close to marking. A deliberate act of imprinting himself on me.

Kwon Yido was a good kisser. That was the conclusion I’d come to after a few encounters. If he weren’t, there’s no way a kiss this quiet could make heat pool so low in my belly.

“Hh... Just a second...”

I pulled away slightly. I felt like if it went on any longer, I’d forget where we were, flip over into something I couldn’t control. My heat cycle had long passed, but my body—now familiar with the pleasure he gave—was already anticipating him.

“What?”

His lips still touching mine, he asked the question. He kissed me again softly, silently, then swept his hand from the back of my neck up behind my ear. The way his pinky rubbed that sensitive hollow just under my ear made my shoulders twitch from the ticklishness.

“Is it because you want to?”

“...”

It was the obvious answer. He looked at me like he could see straight through, his eyes intense and unrelenting. In them, at such close range, I saw the same desire reflected back at me.