TIOAWN Chapter 27

“Stay still.”  

 

The body pressing against hers was filled with heat. Huff, huff. The breath exhaled onto her nape was scorching enough to burn her skin.  

 

“Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

As if determined to confirm it with his own body, Moo-geon was resolute.  

 

“Yes.”  

 

“Stick out your tongue.”  

 

What is this about? Though she rolled her eyes, she obediently complied. Acting as though it were natural, as if she’d do anything he asked—this was unmistakably Seo Ha-yoon.  

 

Moo-geon turned his head, parted his lips, and bit her tongue. Then he licked the underside of her tongue from the back to the tip. Still unsatisfied, he flattened her tongue with his and pushed deeper into her mouth.  

 

Their breaths tangled, and saliva pooled. Ha-yoon, unsure what to do with her collapsing body, gripped both of Moo-geon’s shoulders. She wanted to hold on, but her hands felt too weak to grasp his thick coat.  

 

Eventually, her hands crept up to tousle the back of Moo-geon’s hair, and her upper body leaned helplessly into his.  

 

“Ha… Hng.”  

 

Hah.

 

The sweet moan was the same, but the force clinging to him was weaker than before. Frowning as if displeased, Moo-geon lowered his head and pressed his ear to Ha-yoon’s left chest.  

 

Why is he doing this?

 

Ha-yoon awkwardly raised her arms in confusion.  

 

His lips hovered perilously close to the stiff peak protruding through her clothes. The warmth of his body settling over her crushed chest felt damp. The more she twisted, the more his weight shifted onto her.  

 

She should push him away, but strangely, the heat of his body against her chest wasn’t unwelcome. As his weight pressed down further and her body kept tilting, she ended up cradling his head.  

 

When she regained her senses, she was sitting on Cha Moo-geon’s lap.  

 

“We’ve arrived.”  

 

Just then, Kang-heon announced their arrival, and without hesitation, Moo-geon pulled her out of the car.  

 

“Hospital?”  

 

Ha-yoon hesitated in front of the large building.  

 

“Which room?”  

 

Asking for the room number without even seeing a doctor—this was beyond out of order. If there was one thing Ha-yoon knew well from her countless hospital visits, it was protocol.  

 

“Room 8125. The VIP ward.”  

 

Ha-yoon stepped back as if refusing to enter, but Moo-geon furrowed one brow. Instead of explaining, he grabbed her wrist.  

 

“Let go.”  

 

“Why? Should I carry you in?”  

 

Ha-yoon blinked, as if questioning his sincerity.  

 

“Can’t you see properly?”  

 

Was he thinking her vision was unfocused?  

 

“No.”  

 

If he truly intended to carry her, Ha-yoon shook her head quickly.  

 

Once inside the room, her admission proceeded swiftly. As if prearranged, nurses entered, followed by doctors.  

 

Blood was drawn, an ultrasound performed. Amid the chaotic rush, Ha-yoon didn’t dare speak.  

 

Staring at the long, dangling IV line, she swallowed a quiet sigh.  

 

Another IV drip, after all.

 

She already owed a truckload of debt. It felt like her liabilities kept growing without her doing anything.  

 

Ha-yoon fidgeted with the IV line, unable to lift her gaze.  

 

What happened to that man?

 

Suddenly, the image of the man burned to death resurfaced. Her heart thudded violently.  

 

Why am I the only one here… in the hospital?

 

Indescribable guilt tightened around her throat.  

 

But she couldn’t ask Moo-geon if the corpse was still there. She only chewed her lips.  

 

“Should I call a nurse?”  

 

A low, calm voice. An arm reaching for the call button.  

 

Ha-yoon’s scattered thoughts snapped back.  

 

All the lingering illusions before her eyes shattered. The private room, meant for two, felt suffocatingly full because of him.  

 

He didn’t ask if she was in pain. He didn’t stroke her hair and tell her to rest.  

 

Instead of worried words or unnecessary tenderness, Cha Moo-geon’s gaze and dry tone slowly embedded themselves in her.  

 

Like water seeping into tissue paper, he kept soaking into her heart.  

 

Is he trying to increase my debt?

 

One shot, one IV bottle. Is he planning to keep a ledger like Dad did to suffocate me? If so, could I stay by his side for life under that pretext?  

 

The thought was absurd. Truly absurd.  

 

“You.”  

 

Why did you come back?

 

Why did you save me?

 

Why did you admit me to the hospital?

 

Why are you acting like my guardian?

 

Are you trying to confuse me?

 

“Cha Moo-geon.”  

 

She tried to grab his arm as he reached for the call button, but her limbs wouldn’t obey. Reluctantly, she called his name.  

 

“Why did you bring me to the hospital?”  

 

“You’re asking why I brought a sick person to the hospital?”  

 

Moo-geon paused, as if he didn’t understand her intent.  

 

“Are you going to count this as debt too?”  

 

Ah. Debt.  

 

The left corner of his lip twitched slightly.  

 

Was he angry because she asked something so obvious? It was hard to tell if he was mocking her or irritated.  

 

I can’t keep letting this debt pile up. It shouldn’t be like this.

 

A calculated thought arose—she had to do something. Like a trained reflex.  

 

Even if proving her worth to match his demands was impossible.  

 

“Should I… give you a kiss?”  

 

Hah. What’s this now?

 

This time, Moo-geon fully raised one side of his lip.  

 

“Or.”  

 

Ha-yoon mumbled through her lips, unable to voice it fully.  

 

Suck… suck…….

 

“……Should I?”  

 

She had carefully chosen her words, but his expression only grew more contorted.  

 

Clutching the bedsheet, Ha-yoon met his gaze.  

 

Pathetic, Seo Ha-yoon.

 

Moo-geon’s lowered eyes gleamed. Interest flickered in his dark pupils.  

 

Is she trying to seduce me even in a hospital gown, pale and sickly? Is she seeking warmth in her pitiful state?

 

Was this audacity? Or desperation?  

 

No need to judge.  

 

“Do it.”  

 

Humoring a sick girl isn’t hard.

 

When Moo-geon granted permission, Ha-yoon lifted her head slightly. But their lips still didn’t meet.  

 

Because despite his agreement, Cha Moo-geon remained rigidly upright, not bending an inch. Instead, he arrogantly tilted his head back.  

 

In the end, Ha-yoon had to half-rise from the bed, awkwardly reaching out.  

 

Precarious. Moo-geon, who had been watching coldly, swiftly extended his arm just as her upper body began to collapse.  

 

“You can’t even hold yourself up, yet you talk about kissing.”  

 

His tone was almost scolding.  

 

Ha-yoon’s fallen torso landed against Moo-geon’s lower body.  

 

Kneeling unintentionally, her face buried near his thigh, she blinked up at him. Her eyes glistened with tears—whether resentment or sorrow, unclear.  

 

Pushing his arm away, she tried to sit up, but her body swayed again.  

 

As she raised her hand to grip his waist, the IV fluid reversed, and blood pooled in the tube.  

 

“Tch.”  

 

His perfectly shaped lips twisted unattractively.  

 

Clearly annoyed, Moo-geon roughly swept his bangs back.  

 

Biting back a curse, he gripped Ha-yoon’s wrist painfully and called for a nurse.  

 

Why does this even matter? So what if a little blood leaked?

 

The man who had toyed with her so arrogantly now looked uncharacteristically tense. The nurse arrived promptly. After adjusting the IV fluid and dismissing the issue, she left.  

 

Ha-yoon watched Moo-geon, who was about to turn away, as she lowered her gaze to the IV line.  

 

The debt keeps growing. No—has he ever actually reduced it?

 

“Why… won’t you lower it?”  

 

At her question, Moo-geon approached again.  

 

Instead of answering, he rubbed the back of her head with his large hand, then yanked her toward him. Her face was buried between his legs in an instant.  

 

“Still on about that damn debt?”  

 

Debt.

 

Debt.

 

Fucking debt.

 

“The debt my dad left me with…”  

 

Ha-yoon nodded.  

 

“Yes. The debt your father owes—I own it.”  

 

Moo-geon forced her head back with a firm grip.  

 

Leaning down to meet her eyes, he pressed close and whispered into her ear:  

 

“I bought your misfortune.”  

 

Seo Ha-yoon’s misfortune.

 

Was his goal to watch her struggle to repay, to prove her worth?  

 

Even knowing it was futile in this inescapable situation.  

 

Does he want me to squirm?……Fine.  

 

Though reality loomed distant, staying by Cha Moo-geon’s side wasn’t entirely despairing.  

 

Does he know his presence is slightly better than my father’s, who only ever nagged me to paint?

 

Ha-yoon twisted her arm free from his grip and wrapped both around his neck.  

 

What is she doing? Moo-geon’s focus wavered briefly as he watched silently.  

 

“Stay still, Seo Ha-yoon. Don’t overstep.”  

 

“You said you bought my misfortune.”  

 

No rebuttal.  

 

Every time he tried to leave, she clung to him, making it impossible to exit the room.  

 

“I want to discharge. Let me leave.”  

 

Luxuries like this don’t suit me. Seeing the nurse check the IV, Ha-yoon moved to yank the line out within seconds.  

 

She really tries everything to infuriate me in every way.

 

Moo-geon pressed his temples and stepped closer.  

 

“Fine. If you want it that badly, leave.”  

 

Just as Ha-yoon was about to pull the needle out, he slammed his hand over hers.  

 

“Ah!”  

 

“This hurts? You want to discharge with a fever this high, but can’t even handle this?”  

 

Moo-geon snarled viciously.  

 

“If you collapse and die after leaving, what happens to the 13.943 billion won?”  

 

Shudder. Ha-yoon bit her trembling lip.  

 

“If you can disappear or die after you find your dad.”  

 

Until then, he declared, she had no freedom to move.  

 

Like a snuffed candle, Ha-yoon curled into herself, silent.