Chapter 16.2

Chapter 16.2

‘Quite old?’

André quickly lowered his eyes to regain his composure. He briefly considered arguing that he was still twenty-eight until his birthday in December but decided against it. Explaining such things would only make it more ridiculous. It was better to just be ‘quite old.’

Acting as if nothing was wrong, André shrugged and turned his attention to the script in his hand.

Miran looked André over with renewed interest.

Even Seunghyuk, who was four years older, felt quite distant in age, and André was even older. She had been slightly annoyed by his informal speech upon first meeting, but considering he was a foreigner and older, she decided to let it slide.

“Then let’s start practicing the script—”

“I’ll shower first.”

“…Sh-shower? Why?”

Miran flinched and shot André a suspicious look. He glanced down at his wristwatch.

“It took a full 24 hours to get from a small island in Thailand to Bangkok, and then from Bangkok to Seoul. I was dragged straight to Itaewon without a chance to wash up. Is it okay if I touch you with dirty hands? If you’re fine with that, we can start now.”

He raised an eyebrow as if leaving the decision up to her.

Miran, horrified, jumped up and ran into the bathroom.

“I-I’ll turn on the boiler for you!”

André’s Korean was astonishingly fluent, but he never spoke indirectly. The straightforward words and direct expressions made her heart pound like waves crashing.

After turning on the boiler and hanging a fresh towel on the rack, she stepped out of the bathroom. The first thing she saw was a broad chest filling the narrow, low doorway. André stood there, holding a change of clothes, waiting.

He angled his body to create space for her to pass. Pressed against the wall, Miran sidestepped through the narrow gap. The proximity between them was almost dangerously close.

André ducked his head as he entered the bathroom, his hand resting on the low doorframe. The creaking of the hinges was followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Her heart pounded as if it would burst through her ribs, even though she hadn’t done much. The thought of practicing the script with that man made her want to back out now more than ever.

“Maybe I should just tell him to leave after his shower, and he can keep the 30,000 won.”

Miran flopped onto the bed and then slowly rolled onto her side.

“…What should I do?”

She hadn’t even come to a decision yet when the sound of water from the bathroom abruptly stopped.

“Already?”

Miran got up from the bed, fidgeting nervously, as the bathroom door swung open. André ducked his head to exit the doorway and then straightened up.

He had changed into clothes similar to what he was wearing before, only in a slightly different color. Seeing him neatly dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and chino pants, Miran felt a strange sense of relief.

André’s appearance, posture, and demeanor were all impeccably flawless. He seemed like a perfect person without any visible weaknesses. He lacked the free-spirited, friendly, and lively vibe typically associated with Americans. Instead, there was something imposing, arrogant, and cool about him.

‘He doesn’t seem like an enlisted soldier. He’s more like an officer.’

He looked like someone who would wear a uniform adorned with numerous medals. It wasn’t hard to imagine him in formal attire, attending a high-society dinner. He seemed like someone accustomed to commanding soldiers with overwhelming authority and looking down from a high position.

If André had emerged from the bathroom looking even slightly disheveled, Miran might have been frightened and canceled the practice immediately. But the only thing out of place about him was his hair, still dripping with water. He casually ran his fingers through it, smoothing it back as he walked toward her.

André closed the distance in an instant, standing face-to-face with Miran in front of the bed. It was unfamiliar for her to have to tilt her head back to look up at someone.

The light from the lamp on the table didn’t reach his face. With shadows cast over the already expressionless face, even his eyes were unreadable. As he gazed steadily at her anxious eyes, he asked,

“Are we doing this on the bed?”