Boundless

제 13 장

⸻

I rose from the warmth of Jae's bed, the early hush of morning still clinging to the air like a dream. My phone buzzed quietly beside me, and I reached for it, expecting the mundane—but what I saw stole the breath from my lungs.

Surely, I hadn't truly woken yet. Surely, this was some cruel illusion conjured by sleep.

A message glared back at me from an unknown number:

"I would like to negotiate a deal. I am requesting your absence in Jae Eun's life. In exchange, I am willing to write a check of any amount. Call the number below to accept."

My stomach dropped, hollow and cold.

This was not only insulting—it was pitiful. A weak, cowardly attempt to sever something sacred. Love wasn't a transaction. My worth wasn't a dollar amount to be signed away. I stared at the message for a long while, then locked the screen and exhaled the poison.

This wouldn't ruin us. Not now. Not when our days together were so few and precious before life's currents pulled us in different directions again. No, not even shadows like these would touch the light we had.

I laid back down, tucking the secret in the quiet space between my ribs.

"What's wrong, baby?" Jae murmured, his voice still honeyed with sleep. He slung his arm around my waist and pressed himself into my warmth, like he was afraid to let go even in dreams.

I turned to him, my eyes locking with his.

"I love you," I whispered.

His lips curved, and he pulled me in, our kiss soft, slow, like a promise renewed.

"Say it again," he breathed against my skin.

I closed my eyes, memorizing the feel of his forehead resting against mine.

"It's time to get up, Jae."

"No," he grinned, fingers trailing the curve of my cheek. "I want to look at you a little longer."

I smirked. "Your breath is terrible."

His laugh erupted, warm and deep. It rumbled through my chest like a familiar song. I peeled the covers off him, and he groaned in protest before sitting up.

"I'm going to anticipate whatever it is you've planned for today," he said, padding into the bathroom.

Almost four weeks had passed since we visited his mother's home. Nearly five months since our first meeting. Time had become slippery, quick, and golden. Mornings bloomed brighter now, even when rain followed by dusk. School was out. No work for me, no classes for him. Just us—busy being in love.

Sometimes he was summoned to his father's office, and though he returned without complaint, he didn't have to say a word. His smile couldn't hide the truth his skin bore.

A busted lip. A bruised cheekbone. Crimson pooling at the corners of his mouth like secrets he wouldn't speak aloud.

My heart clenched at every mark, every shadow of violence.

Even while I burned with fever and coughed up aching breath from the flu, I tended to him—gentle hands, antiseptic, whispered prayers into the wounds he tried to carry alone. He fed me soup and hummed lullabies when the pain in my chest became too heavy to bear. I kissed every part of him that hurt, and he made me laugh even when my throat was raw. We moved in rhythm—him and I—our love a sacred syncopation.

I rarely slept in my own bed anymore. I returned home only after Jae had drifted to sleep, just to preserve the gentle tension of distance. We needed room to miss each other. I didn't want our fire to smolder into habit. We needed air to keep the flame alive.

⸻

"Let's get groceries."

           •.     •.     •.

"What do you want to get?" Jae asked, steering the cart into the produce aisle.

"I actually made a list," I said, flashing him my phone. "You eat like a starving lion. It's time to restock."

He laughed. "Athena, are you calling me fat?"

"I'm saying you eat everything in sight."

"Well, I work out every morning."

That was true. I'd seen him—shirtless, sweat-slicked, eyes locked in focus like he was sculpting himself into something divine. It was mesmerizing. Still, I offered a sheepish smile.

"I'm one to talk," I mumbled.

My body had softened. Curves I hadn't noticed before now pressed against my skin—thicker thighs, fuller arms. I was changing, and though his gaze never wavered, doubt bloomed in the quiet corners of my mind.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, kissing me unexpectedly. "You could turn into Fiona, and I'd still be smitten. But I gotta stay fit in case you explode."

I froze.

He laughed, but something inside me didn't.

He noticed immediately.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't funny. You're perfect. Please don't take it the wrong way."

He wrapped his arms around me, brushing his lips against my ear.

"I love you," he murmured.

I smiled faintly. He kissed my cheeks one by one, like he was lighting lanterns there.

"Smile like that forever, Queen. You shine so brightly."

We moved through the aisles, filling our cart with laughter and need. But when we reached the meat section, something turned sour. The smell—raw blood, salty fish—assaulted my senses. My stomach lurched.

"I can't," I said, gagging. "It smells horrible."

Jae looked confused. "I don't smell anything."

"Please—just get what's on the list. I'll wait."

He took my phone and nodded.

"You need to wash your hair. You've been scratching it all day."

He grinned. "I'll be back."

And then he was gone, cart in hand, boyish and beautiful.

⸻

"That hurts!" he yelped, flinching beneath my fingers.

"Sorry," I giggled, fingers tangled in his thick roots. "I forgot our hair textures don't always play nice."

He glared playfully, soaking in the tub in nothing but his underwear. The steam swirled around us, and the scent of lavender and soap clung to the air.

He splashed water at me, and suds clouded my vision. "Ow!" I gasped, rubbing my eyes.

Jae cursed—a rare thing—and clambered out of the tub, dripping water everywhere as he grabbed a towel and patted my face.

"I'm fine," I said, blindly reaching to help—only to grab something that made him yelp again.

"Whoa! That's not the towel!"

We both burst into laughter.

"You're washing your own hair from now on," I scolded, tossing the towel at him.

"I said I was sorry," he chuckled, pulling me into a hug.

"You're soaking wet!"

"So let's get wet together," he teased, pulling me into the tub with him.

"Min Jae Eun!" I shrieked.

His laugh echoed like thunder.

"It's only natural for you to scream my name when I make you wet."

I glared at him, half amused, half ready for war.

"What an awful joke. I'm going to kill you."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his voice warm and sincere:

"If you're the one to end me... that's exactly how I'd want to go."

⸻