Rain fell softly that night, washing the glass windows of Kang Jaehyun's house like a thin curtain dividing two worlds—the world of silence, and the one still learning what it means to trust again.The house was spacious, yet it felt quiet, like a museum of unspoken emotions.
Han Serin stood in the living room, still wearing her damp work coat. Her eyes wandered to a large painting on the wall—the silhouette of Seoul at night.Jaehyun stood near the open kitchen, holding a coffee cup that had long gone cold.No words were exchanged; only the ticking of the clock echoed faintly, reminding them that time was waiting for someone to speak first.
"Your house… is quieter than I imagined," Serin finally said, her tone flat but concealing unease.Jaehyun looked at her briefly, then set down the cup."Silence isn't always bad. Sometimes, it's the only way to avoid hearing what you don't want to hear."
Serin lowered her gaze. His words resonated—too honest, too close. There was something about the way Jaehyun spoke: cold, but sincere, like a man who once lost something money could never buy.
A few minutes later, she sat on the long sofa while Jaehyun walked toward the balcony.The city lights filtered through the curtains, casting their silhouettes in two opposing hues—warm and cold, alive and restrained.
"Do you ever regret making that deal with me?" she asked quietly.The question lingered in the air, fragile as candle smoke.
Jaehyun remained silent. He gazed out the window, eyes catching his own reflection."I don't make decisions to regret them, Han Serin," he said at last, voice deep and certain. "I only make sure things go as they should."
"But do you even know what 'should' means?"Her tone was soft, yet edged with hidden hurt."No one really knows," he replied calmly. "But we can pretend to—until we finally do."
For a brief moment, they both laughed—not out of amusement, but irony.And for the first time, the silence no longer felt like a wall, but a thin veil allowing a little warmth to seep through.
As night deepened, Serin glanced at Jaehyun standing by the balcony, rain tracing lines down his dark suit.He looked like a man used to carrying weight alone.And somehow, that night, Han Serin wanted to let that curtain between them open—just a little.