New Normal - Chapter 40

Jisoo hesitated for a moment, debating whether to answer the man trying to fish for something—but then made up her mind.

“It’s not like that… Actually, I saw one of your YouTube videos.”

Juwon, who had been quietly nibbling on some side dishes, froze mid-bite. He slowly looked up at her, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, you did? Man, that’s kind of embarrassing.”

“No, not at all. You just looked… different. Not like the Chae Juwon I thought I knew.”

“Did I? I feel like I was the same.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled, a little bashful—unusual for someone like him. Seeing that rare hint of shyness, Jisoo found herself speaking up more than usual.

Truth was, she was starting to want to know more about this man.

“You seemed a little different.”

“Yeah? In what way?”

“I don’t know… It was unexpected. You looked serious. What you said during the lecture really stuck with me too. Designing memories, spaces that hold people’s presence… it was all really thoughtful.”

She stumbled through her words, not quite able to meet his eyes. Then Juwon set his chopsticks down and leaned back, arms crossed. Noticing the movement, Jisoo finally looked up.

Juwon was staring at her, brow faintly furrowed, lips tilted like he was holding back something.

“Was I too serious?” she asked with an awkward smile.

He shook his head.

“No. I liked it.”

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he looked down, rubbing his temple like something was weighing on him.

“When I was a kid, my dad used to take me around on drives. Back then, I just thought he was buying me ice cream or something. But looking back now, I think he was showing me buildings he designed.”

He laughed a little, lips pressed together in a small, sheepish smile. And as he shared this unexpectedly personal memory, something inside Jisoo began to soften. The tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding started to fade.

“Anyway, I realized that even after he was gone, the buildings he designed were still there—still living inside people’s lives, unless they were torn down and rebuilt. That’s when I knew. I wanted to do something like that too. …I’m being serious again, huh?”

He grinned playfully, but Jisoo didn’t miss the fleeting sadness that crossed his face. And just like that, a buried memory stirred in her chest. A sharp ache she thought she had locked away.

For a second, her father’s face—who had abandoned her in pursuit of his desires—flashed in her mind. She clenched her fingers for a moment, then quickly masked it with a smile.

“You must have really respected your dad.”

“Yeah. A lot. I didn’t get it when I was younger, but now… I miss him. He was an incredible man.”

Juwon paused, eyes resting on her.

“What about you, Shin Jisoo?”

“…Sorry?”

For a split second, she panicked—thinking he was asking about her family. But Juwon smiled naturally and clarified.

“I meant—your job. Was there a reason you chose what you do?”

Jisoo hesitated, then gave a vague, safe answer.

She knew she was drawing a line—but this wasn’t the kind of thing she could share just yet.

“Not really. I kind of just… ended up here. I didn’t have any clear dream. No big reason. Just sort of lived day to day.”

Juwon didn’t reply immediately, just looked at her.

“For someone who just drifted into it, you seem to live pretty fiercely.”

As Jisoo gave a quiet smile, she lifted her gaze—and met his.

“Did I read that wrong?”

Juwon still wore his usual easy smile, but his dark brown eyes pierced right through her.

Liar.

That’s what they seemed to say.

But there was something else, too—a heat she couldn’t quite name. For a moment, tension sparked at her fingertips.

“Is that how I came across?” she asked with a light laugh.

Juwon narrowed his eyes slightly and studied her. His gaze slowly traced the contours of her face—soft, deliberate. And even though it was just a glance, it burned.

“Yeah. That’s how it seemed. Surprisingly.”

His voice dropped—low, slow, like it brushed something deep inside her.

Without meaning to, Jisoo’s smile faded. He wasn’t just looking at her out of interest—he was hoping for something.

Waiting.

Then, almost as if speaking to himself, Juwon added quietly.

“I kept thinking about it. What kind of person is Shin Jisoo?”

His unexpected honesty caught her off guard. The words poked at something inside her.

“But I still can’t figure you out.”

He tilted his head slightly, watching her with a playful glint.

The air between them tightened.

“I want to know more about you.”

The sudden boldness made Jisoo hold her breath.

Under the warm lighting, their locked eyes shimmered with something unspoken.

He set his chopsticks down. Even that small motion felt too vivid to her now. A new kind of tension crept under her skin, slowly spreading from the base of her neck.

Silence settled briefly over the table, and instead of meeting his gaze, Jisoo quietly traced the condensation on her cup with a fingertip.

It was such a normal gesture—but she could feel the weight of his eyes on her like gravity.

Their dinner, filled with scattered conversations and half-truths, was drawing to a close.

But Jisoo knew this conversation wasn’t over. Not really.

If anything, the more they spoke, the more honest Juwon became. And something in his gaze had clearly shifted.

She felt it again when they stepped outside, and he called her name.

“Shin Jisoo.”

She turned around, a few steps ahead.

The look in his eyes was deeper now—no longer gentle, but thick with something darker.

Wanting.

“So… what do we do now?”

He lit a cigarette as he asked, the question tossed out casually—too casually.

But his voice held a strange weight, like it saw through her.

Jisoo suddenly became acutely aware of her own heartbeat, thudding loudly in her ears.

She parted her lips to respond, but her throat felt dry. The words stuck.

Sensing her hesitation, Juwon smiled lightly.

“Want to go for round two?”

He said it smoothly, softly. But she knew exactly what it meant.

There was no more pretense in his voice now—just honesty. Jisoo instinctively clenched her hands.

A flurry of thoughts passed through her mind in seconds. It wasn’t a surprise—not really.

Maybe she’d seen it coming the moment she agreed to meet him. Maybe even the moment she texted him.

And still—something about this felt like a clear crossroads.

Her gaze slipped past his face, to the traffic and dim lights down the road. The distant hum of engines and street chatter wrapped around her like a strange echo.

Would this be okay?

Were they moving at the same pace?

Was this too soon?

Was she going to lose her way if she took this step?

Fear welled up unexpectedly.

“…Where to?”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

Juwon looked at her gently—but his smile wasn’t light.

It was careful. Steady.

“How about my place? If that’s too much, we can go somewhere else.”

His dark brown eyes searched hers.

He was asking—but also telling her. We don’t have to do anything. We can stop right here.

Her fingers tingled with a chill. She hesitated, teetering on the edge between desire and doubt.

If she didn’t say yes now—she might never get close to this man again.

“…Okay,” she finally murmured.

Juwon didn’t move, as if waiting to give her time to take it back.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

Jisoo took a deep breath in. And when she exhaled, her voice trembled slightly—but she didn’t stop herself. She decided to be honest with what her body wanted—not just her head.

She slowly nodded.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Juwon smiled, something unreadable flickering behind it, and reached out. His hand gently wrapped around hers—warm and grounding.

But that very warmth sent her heart reeling.

She followed him, step by step.

And with each footfall, Jisoo knew.

She had just crossed an invisible line—one she couldn’t come back from. Her heartbeat thundered, but she ignored it.

Clutching his hand, she took the next step.