Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 64

The low, buzzing vibration by her head made Ji Yeonseo’s eyes snap open. Outside the pension window, it was still dark.

Careful not to wake the senior sleeping beside her, she reached under her pillow, opened her phone’s flip cover, and checked the screen.

4:38 a.m.

A low, shadowy voice came through the line, as if the night itself were speaking.

— “Ji Yeonseo.”

The face of the person she’d been thinking about until she fell asleep popped into her mind immediately.

Pushing herself up, Yeonseo quietly made her way to the bathroom, careful not to step on anyone sleeping nearby.

Click. The door opened, and the sound of the vent fan filled the silence. Only then did she speak.

“Yeah, Seokyung.”

The moment she said his name, her throat tickled oddly. She cleared it with a small cough.

— “Were you asleep?”

“Mm-hm…”

— You gonna keep sleeping?

His voice sounded strangely tender. Maybe it was the hour, but Seokyung’s tone felt looser, more relaxed than usual.

— “Since you’re up, come out for a bit. Let me see your face.”

“…Wait… you’re back at the pension now?”

— “You told me to come. I want to see you, Ji Yeonseo.”

His voice brushed against her ear like a slow breeze, coaxing her. That deep, smooth tone wasn’t something she could say no to.

Yeonseo hung up and quickly fixed her appearance in the bathroom mirror.

Slipping out quietly, she grabbed what she’d left at her spot and tiptoed out of the room.

As soon as she stepped outside, the crisp pre-dawn air kissed her skin. She breathed in—the scent of wet grass was thick in the air.

Her shoes crunched over small, rounded pebbles as she walked toward the front gate she’d stood by just a few hours ago.

Across the dark, empty lot, she spotted Seokyung’s car.

The tinted windows made it impossible to see inside. She went to the passenger side and tried the handle—it was locked.

Knock knock. She rapped on the window to signal she was here—

“—!”

A solid, warm body pressed up behind her. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in tight, and Seokyung’s breath spilled hot against the back of her neck.

“God—you scared me!”

“Scared? It’s just me.”

His lips brushed her nape as he mumbled against her skin, the low vibration making her shiver. Even when she tried to pull away, laughing nervously, he didn’t let go.

His breathing was short, as if he had his mouth right on her skin, drinking her in—her scent, her warmth.

She squirmed in his arms until he finally laughed low and let her go.

Turning her around, he trapped her between the car door and his body.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, brushing a thumb gently along the corner of her eye.

She remembered someone once saying that Cha Seokyung’s defining trait was the kindness soaked into his very bones. She knew it herself. Even six years ago, when he’d seemed all blunt edges, he’d still turned back to look at her. Whether it was pity or concern, she wasn’t sure.

She held out the item in her hand.

“You left this.”

Two letters in the alphabet gleamed under the moonlight like tiny jewels. He glanced down and immediately recognized it.

His voice, when he spoke, sounded like a balloon deflating.

“This is why you called me? I thought…” He paused, almost pouting. “…I thought you just wanted to see me.”

It reminded her of Minjae’s disappointed tone when his Christmas present turned out to be a book.

Reluctantly, he took it from her and looked back up. His eyes trailed over her face then back to her eyes again, this time carrying a flicker of caution.

“You mad?”

“…About what?”

“Jisoo. Yang Jisoo. If she upset you… I’ll apologize.”

Why? Why are you apologizing for Yang Jisoo? The sharp thought rose before she could stop it.

“She’s not a bad kid. Just… a little clumsy about a lot of things.”

“……”

“She won’t do it again. I promise. I’ll make sure.”

He was apologizing on someone else’s behalf, making promises for them. Why, Seokyung? Why you?

“Are you—” She caught herself, halting the question. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask.

“…Do you still have something with Yang Jisoo?”

Her mouth had never listened to her well. The words slipped out anyway. His eyes searched her face. Did she want him to say no? That there was nothing? Maybe she did.

But his answer wasn’t what she’d expected.

“If I did… would that change anything for you?”

“……”

“Would you get greedy for me, Ji Yeonseo?”

His voice, which had been sweet just moments ago, now carried a thin edge of mockery.

“You didn’t even hesitate when she asked you to give us some space.”

It was true. When Yang Jisoo had asked her to leave, she’d felt heavy-footed but stepped away, telling herself she didn’t belong there. That it was only natural. Seokyung wouldn’t want a third wheel either.

“She comes all the way here after me, and you just walk away without a second thought. Is it because she’s no threat to you? Or because you don’t care enough about me to fight for me?”

The question was phrased like a joke, but there was steel beneath it.

“Being too easygoing… isn’t fun for me.”

Like the rumors about him—too free with his attention, the type who’d be trouble to date—he smiled lazily, almost insulted that she didn’t want to claim him.

That expression was all it took for her to realize the source of the anxiety that had been gnawing at her in that warm pension bed.

Why don’t I want to claim you? Is that true?

…No.

She hated hearing another person’s name on his lips. Hated seeing him casually set a dish in front of someone else, hated him greeting anyone else at the door out of concern they might be carrying something heavy. Hated when he sided with someone else.

She wanted him to have just one person he thought about, texted, waited for during breaks.
One person he touched, held, made that blissful expression for—and for that person to be her.

Not “someone’s kind senior,” not “someone’s ex,” not anything else—just hers. Like years ago, when she’d believed she was the only one who knew those three secret seconds of Cha Seokyung no one else had ever seen.

When she saw Yang Jisoo sobbing without restraint, what she felt was envy. That raw, transparent face was something Yeonseo found herself jealous of, painfully so.

She couldn’t be like that. She didn’t deserve to. She hadn’t kept her promises to stay by his side, to wait until he was whole again. Six years ago, she’d abandoned him and run off to Chungju.

No matter how she tried to scrub it clean, the guilt clung to her like a water stain on the ceiling like it’s always there, impossible to erase.

“What are you thinking?”

His voice had a faint note of impatience as he looked down at her. She liked that tone, liked that he sounded anxious for her answer. She didn’t want to hear him say someone else’s name in it.

Even when she’d told herself she desired his body, she’d kept her distance out of fear—fear of the wandering that might follow when the seasons changed and he was gone again.

But right now, in this shadowed dawn, she liked the scent rolling off him. She liked that his eyes were fixed on her and wouldn’t drift away. She liked the thought of those arms tightening around her without hesitation if she reached for him.

She wanted to be greedy. To put wheels under the heart that had been hesitating despite his promise of four seasons together.

Why not? In the end, they’d finish the lap in a year. So why not take all of it while she could this once?

“Yeonseo?”

“Seokyung.”

Something in her voice made him tense. He could read her so easily, yet she still couldn’t claim she truly knew him. Still…

“Let’s do it.”

“……”

She wanted to experience everything within these four seasons, without holding back.

Her hand dropped, then came up to grip the smooth line of his waist. Even that small touch made his body go rigid.

“I want to sleep with you. Now.”