DTM | Chapter 4

04. Kwon Yi-tae

 

Yoo Eunha was a dangerous and harmful presence. In front of her, all the logic and reason that once shone brightly, as well as his seemingly arrogant confidence, crumbled into nothing but scraps of paper. But none of that changed the undeniable truth that Yoo Eunha was breathtakingly beautiful.

Yi-tae’s first wet dream was about Eunha. As a kindergartener, he used to insist on playing “wedding” with her every single day as a ritual, forcing the bored Yoo Eunha to stay by his side and vowing eternal love.

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And Eunha wasn’t just beautiful. There was something irresistibly seductive about her. From her round, smooth forehead to her slightly large front teeth and her small, delicate nose. If he started listing her features, there was no end. She drove him crazy. Even a monk, upon seeing Eunha, would probably smash his prayer beads underfoot and rush to buy a wig.

In Yi-tae’s world, Eunha alone was a radiant, life-giving existence. Anything connected to her sparkled as if it were touched by divinity. Her overwhelming presence felt so immense that it sometimes scares him.

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If Eunha was the sun, Yi-tae was the sea. If he let his guard down even a little, her light would evaporate everything inside him, leaving him as nothing more than a wisp of smoke. He had to be cautious—of Yoo Eunha.

 

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“Eunha, can I borrow your gym clothes?”

“Eunha, you’re close to Yi-tae, right? Can you help me out with something?”

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“Hey, Yoo Eunha! Today’s lunch is fish cutlets. Let’s go to the snack bar!”

 

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Just like insects drawn to light, there were always swarms of people buzzing around her. The sun, surrounded by these flies, cast a shadow over Yi-tae’s world. He often felt an uncontrollable urge to burn them all with a flamethrower, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white.

Whenever he saw Eunha bouncing around the classroom, chatting with other kids, an ugly jealousy would rise within him, shameless and unrestrained.

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You’re making a fool of me with that pretty face and just leaving me hanging. Aren’t you supposed to at least check in on me once in a while? Speak to me? His frustration would boil over, but before he knew it, he’d find himself craning his neck, chasing her with his eyes.

At some point, Yi-tae found he couldn’t feel arousal without Eunha’s voice. The realization that even his sexual urges were now under her control filled him with despair.

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He couldn’t just let things continue like this. If Eunha was going to grip his life and shake it to the core, then he’d make sure to do the same to hers.

“Hey, Yoo Eunha.”

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“What? Don’t talk to me.”

Eunha’s curt response as she lounged on the couch with her feet up, fixated on the TV, stung more than it should have. Yi-tae tried to mask his hurt by sipping water casually, but his trembling hand betrayed him.

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Still, Kwon Yi-tae wasn’t one to give up so easily.

He shuffled closer, subtly inching over to sit next to her. On the screen, a drama Eunha was obsessed with played, capturing her full attention. 

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Her round, bright eyes stayed fixed on the male lead’s every move. Watching her profile, Yi-tae felt his insides churn.  He wanted to grab her chin and turn her face toward him.

Itae had to work hard to suppress the boiling frustration inside him. The words he wanted to say rose up to his throat, but she had told him not to talk, so he held them back.

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After waiting for 30 agonizing minutes until the episode ended, he finally began to speak.

“Do you like that male lead from the drama you watched just now?” 

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He almost tripped over his words. What he really wanted to say was: What’s so great about that guy? Eunha quickly turned to look at him, her sparkling eyes locking onto his. His heart pounded abnormally hard.

Damn, why is she so pretty? Should I just go crazy and kiss her? While he wrestled with his growing desire, Eunha answered, her voice bright and animated.

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“You like Hongjun too?”

“…Uh.”

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“I thought you didn’t care about this stuff. You were secretly watching, huh? Even guys think he’s cool, right?”

Forcing his stiff neck to nod, Yi-tae pushed himself to ask, “What’s so great about him?”

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“He’s tall, fit, and has such a beautiful smile.”

Hearing Eunha praise another man was more infuriating than he could have imagined. Though he replied casually with a “Really?” as if unaffected, his teeth ground audibly. Her words stuck deep in his mind like a thorn: tall, fit, and a beautiful smile.

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He went home immediately and searched for “Hongjun” online, memorizing the actor’s appearance and physique.

His body was already in decent shape, thanks to regular workouts. The problem was his height. At the time, Yi-tae stood at 177 cm, compared to Hongjun’s 181 cm.

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Four centimeters too short. Pacing nervously around his room, he resolved to grow those extra 4 cm no matter what. He played basketball, jumped rope, and consumed every height-boosting supplement—pills, powders, and liquids—he could find.

By the end of the year, he’d reached 181 cm. Having matched Hongjun’s height, he stopped taking the supplements. But his growth didn’t stop there. His height shot up to 190 cm, to his dismay.

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Yi-tae was devastated, feeling grotesque and embarrassed about his towering stature. He couldn’t even meet Eunha’s eyes. Meanwhile, Eunha was likely thinking about trivial things like “Yes! Fried chicken for dinner tonight!”

Yi-tae regained his confidence only after Eunha’s celebrity crush shifted to someone else. She began obsessing over four actors at once, all with slightly different heights. That’s when he realized that as long as you’re over 180 cm, you’re in the game.

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Just wait, Yoo Eunha. I’ll have you wrapped around my finger. A satisfied smile crept onto his face.

One day, as they were walking home together, Eunha suddenly stopped in her tracks. A few steps ahead, Yi-tae turned back, confused.

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“Kwon Yi-tae.”

Eunha grabbed the hem of his shirt with her small, pale hands, making his body go rigid. Standing on tiptoe, she tilted her head back to look him directly in the eye. Yi-tae instinctively leaned back, only to regret it immediately.

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You idiot. Why are you pulling away when you should be leaning in for a kiss?

Her unusually large, jet-black eyes captured his flustered expression completely. Her lips curved into a soft smile.

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“You’re pretty when you smile.”

The world stopped. Nothing but Eunha seemed real. His heart thundered as if it would burst, and his whole body tingled. The sea no longer feared the sun’s light; instead, the sun sank into the horizon, dyeing the blue waters with its glowing amber.

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***

 

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[S.D]

Yi-tae knew that everything pointed to a single overwhelming emotion. It wasn’t something that spread gradually like paint; it was an emotion that swept through him with explosive force, consuming everything.

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The love that had grown entirely nourished by Eunha was, ironically, the very thing that cowered and hid in her presence. Although Yi-tae quietly looked after her from behind, whenever Eunha was around, he would instead busy himself teasing her with pranks that often left her flustered.

His love was immature and clumsy, yet because of that, it carried a purity unburdened by calculation. Confessing his feelings wasn’t as simple as solving a math problem. It was a gamble of a lifetime, risking the fragile bond of friendship he held with her.

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Yi-tae had no intention of wasting his one chance. He wanted to prepare meticulously and confess only when he was certain that Eunha wouldn’t be able to refuse him.

Yet, there were times when his feelings for her swelled uncontrollably.

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When Yoo Eunha smiled at him. When she tied her shoelaces. When she lay on his bed, belly exposed, napping in his room. The reasons and circumstances varied.

Eunha had no idea how maddening it was to see her ponytail swaying as she walked, how endearing and precious her breathing lungs seemed. Each time Yi-tae looked at her, the words to confess his feelings bubbled to the surface.

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But he would summon every ounce of reason to restrain his tongue. However, like a fool, he couldn’t stop himself from testing the waters.

“Yoo Eunha. Christmas is in a week.”

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“Are your mom and dad going to be busy? If your house is empty, can I hang out there?”

“Sure.”

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…This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The conversation had veered off course, but the outcome was still good. Yi-tae calmed his restless heart and spoke again.

“You’re not going to see your boyfriend on Christmas?”

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Eunha paused mid-bite into her vegetable-filled steamed bun and stared at him, her expression twisted with bewilderment.

“I spend fourteen hours a day with you. Do I look like I’d have a boyfriend?”

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“Why don’t you get one?”

Feigning nonchalance, Yi-tae watched her lips intently, his heart racing with the fear that she might be secretly in love with someone else. He was so nervous that sweat began pooling in his palms. Eunha took a massive bite of her bun and, speaking through a mouthful of food, answered with a muffled voice.

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“Too busy with fandom stuff to think about dating, duh.”

Yi-tae silently poured water into her empty cup, falling deep into thought. Should he be relieved? Should he be happy? But what if she decided never to date at all? That would be a problem. Yi-tae was determined to be her first and last love, no matter what.

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Still, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario, so for now, he decided to let go of his worries. If a vacancy ever appeared in Eunha’s heart, it was clear to Yi-tae that he was the only one who could fill it.

 

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***

 

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“Hey, what if I told you I had a boyfriend?”

Yi-tae nearly choked, almost vomiting everything he had eaten. The sudden question struck him like lightning, and it felt as though the ground beneath him had completely collapsed. Throwing aside any semblance of composure, he burst out:

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“What the fuck? Who is it? Someone from our school? Got a picture? No, wait—don’t bother. I don’t even need to see his face. I bet he’s some dumbass. Break up with him immediately.”

His chest heaved violently as his breathing quickened. Noticing Eunha narrowing her eyes, Yi-tae hurried to rein in his spiraling emotions. In moments of crisis, he reminded himself, it was essential to stay smart. Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he softened his tone.

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“…Didn’t you say you were too busy fangirling to bother with dating?”

“Well, I think I’d feel bad if you got a girlfriend and stopped hanging out with me.”

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“…….”

“What about you?”

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Yi-tae’s already scrambled mind went blank. Was this… something he was allowed to misinterpret? Eunha shifted closer, sitting next to him so that their thighs touched. The unexpected proximity sent a wave of suffocating tension through his body, stiffening his muscles.

“…I’d be really upset. I might even cry.”

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“Really? Then, to make sure you don’t cry… why don’t we try dating?”

The words that Yi-tae had hesitated to say for so long were casually thrown out by Eunha as if it were no big deal. Her light-hearted suggestion, a single sentence spoken without weight, swept through his world like a gentle lutter of a butterfly’s wings but only to utterly shatter and obliterate it. At that moment, nothing else mattered to Yi-tae. Eunha became his everything.

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The joy that overwhelmed him was indescribable, unlike anything else he had ever known. The world itself seemed unbearably radiant, as if it had always been this brilliant.

But the bliss didn’t last long.

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If it had been a love that was never meant to be, perhaps Yi-tae could have hidden his swelling possessiveness and obsession. Yet, after becoming a couple, all the desires he had suppressed so well came pouring out, like a dam breaking.

Each time he saw the veins faintly visible on Eunha’s delicate wrists, his mind was consumed by a single thought: I want her to only look at me. Is that so unreasonable? She loves me, so isn’t it okay if I’m a little overbearing?

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What began as mild protectiveness slowly morphed into an overwhelming obsession. But even Yi-tae underestimated the intensity of his desires.

His love was far from romantic—it was raw, controlling, and destructive. He wanted to possess Eunha completely. This violent, overpowering love was a wildfire, threatening to consume everything, from her skin and muscles to her very core.

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Even though he knew Eunha didn’t want this, he couldn’t stop. Yi-tae’s unchecked love led, inevitably, to their end.

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

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“Yoo Eunha…”

“Let’s stop. You and me. It’s over.”

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This couldn’t be happening. A ship without a destination could only drift aimlessly, destined to be wrecked by the waves. Twisted by his nature, Yi-tae didn’t know how to turn her heart back to him. No one had taught him, and he had never tried to learn.

Yi-tae had experienced everything in life through Eunha. Whenever they fought, they didn’t reconcile through understanding—they just yelled and clashed until they were exhausted, eventually sweeping the problem under the rug and returning to normal. He thought this time would be the same. He was wrong.

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No matter how many days he visited Eunha’s officetel, the door wouldn’t open. What should he do? How could he fix this? Just revealing a fraction of his dark desires had been enough for her to leave him. He was terrified—terrified of being banished from her life forever.

It took him three months to realize he couldn’t just charge ahead blindly. Yi-tae resolved to suppress his erratic emotions and plan rationally.

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Being rejected once didn’t mean it was over. He just needed to get back into her good graces. If he could become the kind of man Eunha would be happy with, maybe she’d take him back. She once told him his smile was beautiful, didn’t she?

Clinging to that slim possibility, Yi-tae dived into an industry he had no interest in, the entertainment world. Eunha always seemed to be drawn to the year’s most talked-about actors. He focused on projects that matched her tastes, throwing himself into relentless activity to quickly build recognition and popularity.

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For three years, Yi-tae suppressed every personal desire, dedicating himself solely to his goal. If there was one small problem, it was that he ended up becoming far more popular than he had anticipated. Everything he ate, every place he went, every outfit he wore, every trivial detail of his life became a headline.

Finally, Yi-tae deemed himself ready. He felt confident he could now stand tall before Eunha. Setting aside all other commitments, he took on her documentary project just to be near her.

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But in Eunha’s presence, those carefully laid plans crumbled like a sandcastle swept away by the tide.

The moment he saw her face, blood rushed to his lower half, and he couldn’t stop himself from getting an erection. Yi-tae had long since accepted that he only lusted after Eunha. But this… this was new. Just a glimpse of her face was enough to arouse him.

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He needed to look his best for her, but he couldn’t just approach her with such a vulgar display. So he kept his distance until his body calmed down.

Every ounce of his focus was on Eunha. And that bastard, why the hell was he wearing a hat shaped like a cow’s balls? Seeing her so at ease, chatting with people he didn’t know, made her feel unfamiliar. That unfamiliarity festered into an unbearable irritation.

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He wanted to put a bullet through their heads, erase them from existence, and leave only himself in Eunha’s line of sight. Seeing her again didn’t just reignite his sexual desire—it rekindled his obsession.

The sooner this annoying shoot was over, the sooner he could claim his place beside her. He was running through his lines when he noticed her standing in a precarious spot.

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“Yoo Eunha…”

As soon as she realized Yi-tae was watching, she flinched, losing her balance and falling into a nearby pond. For a moment, his mind went blank. He didn’t even think, his body just moved.

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Pulling her out of the shallow pond, he was met with her frightened, tear-streaked face. Water clung to her lashes, dripping like tears with every blink.

Her pitiful expression made his chest ache. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close, ask if she was okay, and kiss her all over.

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But unlike Yi-tae’s heart, Eunha only looked burdened by his gaze. Discomfort was written all over her face, clear as day. She couldn’t even stand to look at him. And then, instead of thanking him, she reached for that damn hat, cradling it like it was something precious.

Yi-tae’s dark, possessive desires stirred within him again. His plan to win her admiration wavered under the weight of his impulses. Take her before she chooses someone else. Make her yours so she can never escape again.

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But when he saw her trembling, pale lips, the dark thoughts receded.

“Get out of the water first.”

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Even then, she wouldn’t meet his gaze, her focus entirely on the damn hat.

 

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***

 

“They said she fell while trying to capture a shot of Mr. Kwon’s face.”

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Yi-tae listened quietly to the hair designer’s explanation with his eyes closed before abruptly leaving the room, his hair still only half-styled. Ignoring the protests of the staff, he headed straight for the tent where Yoo Eunha was waiting.

“Where are you? What time are you coming home? Who are you with? I’m coming over right now. I bet he’s completely unhinged. Even my mom doesn’t go that far.”

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Even without a subject explicitly mentioned, it was obvious who Eunha was complaining about. A sharp, exasperated laugh escaped Yi-tae’s lips. He could already picture how Eunha’s wide, startled eyes would look the moment he entered the tent. And sure enough, as he pulled back the flap, Eunha froze in visible panic, unsure of what to do.

He had come to check on her, worried she might catch a cold, yet her discomfort at his mere presence was written all over her face. That reaction grated on him.

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And then she delivered the final blow to his unsettled heart.

“We just barely know each other. Took one liberal arts class together once, that’s it.”

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The words slipped from her tongue like a dagger, piercing Yi-tae’s heart with perfect precision. How could she draw the line so coldly, so decisively? When her gaze sought his agreement, incredulity welled up within him. What followed was a twisted kind of anger. No matter how one looked at it, they were more than just acquaintances, weren’t they?

Resentment and frustration spilled over in a rush. He couldn’t fathom why she would deny their history just to save face in front of others, and frankly, he didn’t want to.

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“If that’s not the case, then stop paying attention to me. Just focus on the broadcast.”

Her firm, defiant words pierced him like barbs. Her small, resolute face and sharp tone stabbed deep into Yi-tae’s pride.

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“I really want to scold the hell out of you right now.””

The sorrow that fueled his anger twisted into a more primal heat. His body, which only ever reacted to Eunha, was beginning to burn. He wanted to crush those small, cruel lips with his own, to silence her with his teeth. Yet the icy sharpness in her demeanor held his desires in check.

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He was barely holding it together when Eunha suddenly paled, swaying on her feet.

“I… I think something’s wrong with my head.”

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“…….”

“I need to go back.”

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Even just a brief glimpse of his restrained obsession had thrown her into disarray. If he moved too quickly or forcefully, everything he had worked for over the past three years would be destroyed in an instant. He realized he needed to approach her with the utmost care, as if coaxing a skittish stray cat. Swallowing down the boiling, base emotions in his chest, Yi-tae suppressed his instincts and stepped back.