The day they moved in, a gas leak caused a small explosion in their kitchen. The Oh family stood soot-faced on the lawn as Seung-jo’s mother, the impossibly kind and beautiful Mrs. Baek, rushed over with a plate of homemade japchae.
“Oh Ha-ni,” he said, not even looking up from his textbook. “Your IQ is probably the same as the room temperature. Focus on passing your exams. Not on me.”
The first night, Ha-ni tiptoed down the pristine Baek hallway to get a glass of water. She wore her retainer and a t-shirt that read ‘Genius in Training.’ She bumped into a solid, warm wall. It was Seung-jo, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and smelling of cedar. Playful Kiss -K-Drama-
He kissed her. Not the exasperated peck on the roof. This was desperate, hungry, a confession of three years of silent, arrogant, terrified love. It tasted like rain and relief.
Ha-ni snapped.
He didn’t tutor her. He just sat at the other end of the porch, reading a medical journal. But whenever she made a frustrated sound, he’d say, “No. Balance the oxygen atoms first, idiot.” It was brutal. It was efficient. She passed. Not with a high score, but with a solid 72. She’d never been so proud.
Later, Ha-ni sat on the school roof, sniffling. “I’m a loser,” she whispered to the sky. “I can’t even let him get a normal girlfriend.” The day they moved in, a gas leak
When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, Ha-ni laughed. “So… are we a couple now?”