Chapter 34.2

Chapter 34.2

Miran’s large, earnest eyes looked up at him. André opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. As he looked into her eyes, the words “move aside” got stuck in his throat. Sensing his hesitation, Miran suddenly leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

André’s body stiffened at her embrace. However, he did not forcibly push her away. Encouraged by this, Miran raised her brows, half pleading and half threatening.

“Stay with me a little longer, or…”

She paused, glancing sideways.

“If you don’t, I won’t tell you where I hid your shoes…”

André couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected and whimsical threat. Miran, glancing up, saw him laughing and smiled slyly like a cat that had stolen cream, as she nuzzled her face against his chest.

“There are also things we couldn’t finish because of my Unni.”

“Sigh…”

André let out a long sigh, staring at the floral-patterned ceiling with its protruding bubbles.

Willpower, self-control, patience.

He couldn’t understand where his strengths, which he had always considered to be willpower, self-control, and patience, had evaporated to. He felt pathetic for falling for such a straightforward charm again.

‘Just one dinner.’

Spending another hour or two with her wouldn’t change anything at this point. Rationalizing his decision, he patted the head of the woman clinging to his chest. Miran lifted her head and gave him a dazzlingly bright smile.

André found himself seated at the dining table, his wrist held by Miran. With a rare, disheveled posture, he propped his chin on his hand and watched her hum a tune as she prepared dinner, a bitter smile on his face.

‘D@mn it. Whatever happens, happens.’

—

After dinner, having helped Miran clear the table, André stood up, picking up his jacket that was draped over the chair. That was when Miran suddenly extended a script towards him.

“Since it’s the night before the shoot, can you help me practice just one last time?”

Knowing that their excuse for meeting every evening had been script practice, she played her trump card, which she knew he couldn’t refuse. Sensing another defeat, André sighed inwardly and hung his jacket back on the chair.

The practice that started at the dining table moved to the bed before they had even gone through four pages of the script. Ultimately, André’s resolve to leave quickly after saying goodbye was overwhelmed by primal instincts.

After an intense hour, the two leaned languidly against the headboard. André loosely wrapped his arm around Miran, who was perched on his thigh, and gently stroked her smooth back. With her head resting on his shoulder, Miran traced meaningless patterns on his chest with her finger and asked,

“Hey, André.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“…Why?”

His voice came out hoarse. The breath on his neck and the fingers tracing his chest scattered his focus.

“If you’re not busy, would you like to come watch me shoot tomorrow afternoon? We’ll be filming at a karaoke near d.”

André hesitated. It was a completely unexpected request.

“My co-star told me that if I have someone to help out on set, like a manager, I can bring them along. But don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to carry my bags. Just… having you there would make me feel more at ease.”

“……”

When he didn’t respond, Miran added with a slightly worried expression,

“The thought of acting as Chorong in front of people scares me… Since I’ve been practicing with you, I want to imagine you’re my co-star while I’m acting.”