Chapter 6
Hari, who had been blinking in flustered confusion, quickly regained her composure and put on a gentle smile.
“Yes. If it’s you, Mr. Bodyguard, then it’s fine.”
At her words, Jisang let out a faint scoff, laced with mockery.
“Even after I just called myself a shady bastard to your face?”
“I know you’re not that kind of person.”
“How much do you even know about me?”
The corners of his eyes sank coldly, like frost settling over late autumn ground. Despite his openly chilly tone, Hari did not lose her warmth.
“I may not know much, but I do know that you’re a good person, sir.”
“You’re still ridiculously naive. You trust people far too easily.”
“Don’t I?”
At her fresh, bright smile, Jisang found himself unable to stay sharp and relaxed his expression.
“If you look at me like that, even if I had bad intentions, they’d probably disappear.”
His voice carried a faint sense of emptiness. Hari lifted the corners of her lips slightly and asked,
“Would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you.”
When he refused, she offered something else.
“Then at least let me get you some comfortable clothes. I still have some of my manager oppa’s clothes I haven’t returned yet.”
“No. I’ll be fine for a day.”
“You can speak more casually, you know.”
“I should maintain boundaries as your contractor.”
There was a subtle but clear line in his repeated refusals, and Hari felt a quiet pang of disappointment.
Still, it didn’t seem like there was anything more to say, so she pressed her lips together and picked up a towel and her pajamas.
“If you don’t need anything, I’ll go wash up.”
“Alright.”
As she turned around, she caught sight of him lounging arrogantly—arms spread across the back of the sofa, legs crossed.
His indifferent attitude pricked at her pride. The fact that he showed no discomfort whatsoever at the idea of a woman going to shower…
‘He still sees me as a kid, doesn’t he.’
Throughout her shower, her heart felt oddly hollow.
He was her cherished first love, but she knew well that it had been entirely one-sided.
She had sent him a hundred letters, yet not once had she received a reply.
He had never given her any room for hope to begin with, so there was no reason to feel hurt—yet she couldn’t understand why she felt this way.
Letting her troubled thoughts wash away with the soap bubbles, she stepped out of the bathroom. The man was still sitting on the sofa in the exact same position.
Watching the slight dampness in her hair, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then narrowed his eyes and asked,
“Ms. Yoo Hari. Didn’t you film quite a lot of commercials last year?”
Despite the sudden question, Hari responded calmly,
“What would you consider ‘a lot’?”
“Every time I turned on the TV, you were on it.”
“Oh, well… I guess I did film quite a few.”
She went into the bedroom, sorted out some laundry, then came back out. Jisang continued,
“Then why are you still living in a place like this?”
This old villa had smelled musty from the moment one stepped onto the stairs.
Though she had decorated it neatly with pretty furniture and lighting, the worn wallpaper and flooring made its age obvious.
Rattling the cabinet under the sink, Hari replied,
“What’s wrong with this place?”
“For someone with your income, it seems quite modest.”
Instead of answering, Hari pressed the switch on the electric kettle and held up a chamomile tea bag.
“Are you sure you won’t have any?”
“No, thank you.”
“Alright.”
She poured hot water into a plain mug and dropped in the tea bag. A soft floral scent quickly spread.
Holding the mug, she sat down on the floor by the sofa where he was seated.
In the quiet stillness, only the sound of her softly sipping the hot tea filled the air.
Jisang waited silently. Only after she had drained half the mug did Hari finally give him a real answer.
“You know… actually, I’m afraid of the money in my bank account.”
It might sound ridiculous, but she was completely serious.
“It doesn’t feel real that that much money is sitting there. I keep thinking it might turn into nothing overnight.”
“I see.”
“Maybe it’s because I’ve never handled that kind of money before. I don’t even really know how to spend it. Something like that.”
Whenever she watched those reality shows where celebrities revealed their homes, she would admire them like an outsider, saying, “Wow, that house is amazing.”
Even though, in terms of popularity, she was worth far more than many of them, Hari still felt like they lived in a different world.
“I think… this place suits me.”
Jisang, who had been listening quietly, added just one sentence.
“You more than deserve to live somewhere better.”
“Do I?”
“You’re a successful actress, Ms. Yoo Hari.”
His words struck her deeply. She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from showing how much they moved her.
“Promise me. That you’ll walk the right path. That you won’t step into places like this, and that you’ll succeed with your own strength.”
She had hooked pinkies with this very man when he returned her bracelet, telling her to repay him once she succeeded.
She had promised not to take shortcuts. Even if it was slow, she would succeed on her own terms.
And now, at this very moment, Hari stood proudly before him, just as she had promised.
And hadn’t he just called her a successful actress?
It might have meant nothing to him, but to her, it felt like recognition from him—and it filled her heart to the brim.
“Yawn… I’m getting sleepy.”
Her chest felt warm, and drowsiness began to wash over her. She wasn’t sure if it was the chamomile or his words.
“I should go to bed now.”
Stretching, she stood up and brought out a blanket from her room.
She had insisted he stay, but now that he was actually going to sleep on the sofa, she felt uneasy.
‘His legs are so long, they’ll probably hang off the edge…’
After hesitating, she spoke,
“Um… I’ll sleep on the sofa. Would you like to take the bed?”
“I’d rather not.”
“I just feel really bad.”
At that, he curled one corner of his lips in a mocking smile and stood up. Walking over, he took the blanket directly from her hands.
“Don’t feel sorry over something like this. Be confident. Ms. Yoo Hari, you are my client.”
Client.
With those three words, he drew a clear line.
No matter their past, right now they were nothing more than client and hired guard.
Hari trudged toward her room. But then Jisang grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
In a low voice, he said,
“Make sure you lock the windows.”
“Pardon?”
“If you sense anything strange, come out immediately. I’ll be right here.”
“Ah…”
His voice, so close to her ear, made her heart flutter for no reason.
“Okay. Then… good night.”
Not knowing what kind of expression she was making—but certain she couldn’t let him see it—she hurried into her room.
The door slammed shut louder than intended.
“Ugh…”
Now it was obvious she had been flustered.
Her neck burned hot, and she rubbed it roughly as she lay down on the bed.
But even after a long time, she couldn’t fall asleep.
Just moments ago, she had been drowsy, yet now her heart pounded and her mind was wide awake.
She hadn’t slept well the night before either—she really needed to sleep tonight…
‘Is it because of what happened earlier?’
She had even chewed and swallowed the calming pill Jeonguk gave her at the police station.
‘No matter how inexperienced I am with men… it’s not like I’d react like this just from hearing a gentle voice, right?’
After pondering for a long time, Hari suddenly threw off her blanket and got up.
Maybe if she sat near him again, like before, she might feel sleepy.
A strange expectation formed.
“Um… excuse me, Mr. Bodyguard.”
As she came back into the living room, hugging her pillow, Jisang—who had been lying with his long legs stretched off the sofa—slowly sat up.
“Is something wrong?”
“Well… I can’t fall asleep.”
“I see.”
“…Would it be okay if I sat next to you for a bit?”
