I Didn't See a Thing
"Aah!"
Just before she hit the floor, Dayeon frantically snatched at the towel. It was enough to keep her from being fully exposed — but there was no undoing the flash of bare skin that had already slipped into view.
Did he... see?
Dayeon's panicked eyes darted to her teacher. Siheon had already turned his head. His body still faced her, but his gaze was locked on empty air, fixed on a blank stretch of wall. At the sight of him, Dayeon's face crumpled into a miserable pout.
"...You saw, didn't you?"
"No."
The answer came without a moment's hesitation — and she hadn't even asked what he'd seen. The denial had been instant. Which, if anything, only convinced her that he had.
"That's a lie...! You did see."
"I didn't. I didn't see anything. It happened too fast."
"......"
Dayeon pressed her lips together and studied his face. From the side, with his gaze pinned to the wall, she couldn't read a single emotion. He looked so composed, so utterly unshaken, that it almost seemed as though nothing had happened at all.
"...Really? You really... didn't see anything?"
Her pupils trembled, just slightly. Half of her wanted to believe him. The other half couldn't quite let go of the doubt, and it leaked straight into her wavering voice.
"It's the truth. The second the towel slipped, I turned my head."
Siheon's voice was firm, as if he were determined not to leave her a shred of disbelief.
Dayeon quickly replayed the moment in her mind. She had felt the sudden emptiness at her back and grabbed for the towel in the same breath. By the time she lifted her head again, he had already looked away.
Is that it? Did he really not see anything?
It was possible. The whole thing had lasted barely a second. The teacher she knew was a man who knew how to be considerate of someone in an awkward position — a gentleman, as far from underhanded as a person could be. He would never have stood there staring. She was sure of that.
He didn't even glance at me that time I showed up on purpose in revealing clothes.
He'd gotten angry, actually. Asked her why she'd come dressed like that in the cold.
So maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he really hadn't seen a thing. The little scale in Dayeon's heart quietly tipped toward relief.
The moment a hint of that ease showed on her face, Siheon stepped over to the wall, pulled down the bathrobe hanging there, and tossed it in her direction. The robe flew with perfect accuracy — for someone who supposedly hadn't looked — and unfurled as it reached her, settling over her body like a cover.
Ahem. Siheon cleared his throat once, shortly, and turned on his heel.
"Anyway. It doesn't look like you need my help anymore. Get yourself together and rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, he strode out of the bathroom.
Click.
The door shut, and Dayeon's gaze, which had been trailing after him, finally fell away. Only then did she let out a long breath of relief.
She supposed she should be grateful it had ended here. Mistaking the sound of a robot vacuum for a burglar and kicking up a whole commotion was one thing — at least she'd been spared the catastrophe of putting on a nude show.
The tension drained out of her. She folded the whole incident into a far corner of her mind, picked the hair dryer up off the floor where it had been flung, and started drying her wet hair.
"Hah..."
Out in the hall, with the door closed behind him, Siheon stood in place and dragged a hand over his face several times.
"I'm going to lose my mind."
The mutter came out low. Beneath his palm, his skin was flushed. Heat had caught up with him after the fact, climbing his throat and staining even the lobes of his ears.
The instant the towel slipped from Dayeon's body, he had whipped his head away — he couldn't catch it, so turning was all he could do. Unfortunately, his eyes were faster than the rest of him.
In a sliver of time too brief to even register, his gaze had captured her like a camera shutter: the white, rounded slope of her shoulders; a waist so slim it looked as though it would nestle into a single hand; the gentle swell of her breasts; and arms so fair that white powder seemed ready to bloom at a touch.
Every time he blinked, the image he had so desperately denied in front of her rose again, sharp and vivid. The fragrant scent of body wash lifting off her skin. The humidity of steam-thick air. And beneath it all, the soft, full lines of a woman's body.
The afterimage was so clear it might have been branded onto him. His mouth went dry. Something in his chest clenched down, heavy and restless.
"Hah."
The breath that broke from him was less admiration than a scoff of self-mockery. He had thought he'd gotten ahold of himself — and this was what happened within hours of bringing her into the house.
"Get a grip, Cha Siheon."
This had been an accident. An accident that must never happen again.
He let out a long breath, wrestled his pounding heart into something like calm, and set his mind. The person on the other side of that door was Jeong Dayeon — his student, the girl who until recently had been groaning over math problems that wouldn't come out. He had brought her here to marry her, yes, but only to protect her from Jung Dusup. There had never been any other meaning. No — there must not be.
Having sworn it to himself once more, Siheon stepped away from the door. And he vowed that from now on, he would never set foot in that room again.
A pale, milky light was breaking beyond the window. The tickle of sunlight against her eyelids drew Dayeon up from sleep. She lay still, blinking, until her scattered thoughts drifted back and she registered where she was.
Right. I came to Teacher's house yesterday.
She had escaped the father who had tried to sell her off and ended up here. Before that, she had even received a proposal of marriage. A marriage with an expiration date — only until Grandfather passed — not something she could simply be happy about. What am I supposed to do from here?
"Alright."
She pushed herself up from the bed. Teacher, the marriage, her father — all of it worried her, but she couldn't very well look like someone who slept in on her very first day in this house.
She made the bed, washed up lightly in the bathroom, tidied her appearance, and stepped out into the living room. A fragrant smell hung thick in the air.
"You're up?"
Siheon, already in the kitchen, had caught the sound of her and spoken first.
"Yes. Did you sleep well, Teacher?"
The moment she spotted him, Dayeon lit up and went to him, smiling.
"I was just brewing coffee. Want some?"
Coffee that Teacher had made himself. Anticipation filled her face, and she nodded at once.
"Yes. I'd love some."
"Alright. Give me a moment."
Siheon brought over a mug and set it beside his own, then poured the coffee and handed it to her with toast he had already prepared. Dayeon sat at the table and accepted the mug and the plate. Warmth rose from the dishes in front of her.
She cupped the mug in both hands, blew across the surface, and took a sip. The hot liquid slid down her throat, and a mellow coffee aroma lingered at the tip of her nose. It was, without question, the best coffee she had ever tasted. Her eyes went round with wonder.
"It's delicious."
"Is it? That's a relief."
Siheon smiled, his eyes curving softly. At that smile, her insides stirred all over again. A fluttering started in her heart, like a small bird beating its wings, and spread through her whole body.
It's only a marriage of convenience, but we're still getting married. So why do I keep reacting like this? Dayeon forcibly quieted the noisy feeling in her chest.
She drank her coffee, sneaking glances at him over the rim of the mug, and after a long while finally opened her mouth.
"Um... Teacher."
"Mm. What is it?"
He set his cup down and looked at her. Dayeon carefully brought out the question that had been sitting on her mind.
"About the marriage you mentioned yesterday... when does it start?"
"When?"
"Yes. I think I need to prepare myself. I need to know when, and what I should be doing."
"Well. Shall we start right now?"
"What? Right now?"
Instead of answering, Siheon looked at the clock on the wall. Dayeon followed his gaze. It was a little past seven in the morning.
"Eat a proper breakfast. We've got a lot to do today."
Like the ominous trailer of a movie — like the echo of the warning he had just given — the phone he had set on the table burst into a loud, insistent buzz.
Siheon glanced down at the caller ID, and the corner of his mouth ticked up.
"Right on cue."
He picked up the phone and pressed the green call button.
"Yes. This is Cha Sihe—"
He didn't even get to finish.
"Get over to the main house this instant!"
A thunderbolt of a command roared through the receiver. It was a voice she had heard once before — Chairman Cha Seong-mok.