By the time Kyunghee found her way back to the rooftop apartment, the sun had set and the skies had turned dark.
She stared at her knuckles and palms with small scrapes here and there. It wasn't anything serious, but it didn't look too pretty either. The blood had dried, and it had scabbed in most parts. It wasn't so bad that it was noticeable. It didn't hurt as much either, but there was still a bit of stinging sensation. Sighing, she headed to the staircase when the granny's front door suddenly opened.
Jumping in surprise, Kyunghee hid her hands behind her back, as if she had been caught with hands in the candy jar.
"Kyunghee!" Mihwa exclaimed, poking her head out of the house, stepping onto the small exterior porch. Whether or not she was suspicious of the guilt-ridden look on Kyunghee, she didn't comment. "There you are! Come here, Kyung!" Mihwa waved for her to come forward.
"Hi halmoni," Kyunghee greeted, pulling the sleeves of her jacket down further to cover the scraped knuckles.
"Have you had dinner?" Mihwa questioned, forehead etched with concern.
Kyunghee shook her head.
"My goodness, come on in then. I've made dinner. Come and have dinner with us." Without waiting for a response, Mihwa rounded behind Kyunghee and practically shoved her into the cozy house.
Kyunghee wanted to ask what the granny meant by 'us', but she didn't have to when she saw a certain grumpy faced detective standing before her. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a black hooded sweater, regarding her with an unreadable expression.
"What – What are you doing here?" Kyunghee blurted thoughtlessly, taken by the unexpected.
Mihwa answered for him, "It was me. I called the detective. It was getting so late and I didn't see you back yet. This morning you said you didn't have work. I tried calling you, but there was no answer. I was worried you'd try going back to the apartment by yourself or maybe you ran into some sort of trouble. I didn't know what to do, Kyung. So I did the only thing I could think of and called Jintae. Are you okay, Kyung? Did you run into any troubles?"
Mihwa checked Kyunghee thoroughly, scrutinizing for any signs of physical injuries. Kyunghee curled her hands, keeping it hidden under the sleeves.
"I'm okay halmoni."
"Then why didn't you answer your phone?"
"My phone?" Kyunghee reached into her bag, but couldn't find her phone anywhere. She searched all her pockets thoroughly to no avail. Her phone had magically disappeared. Where the hell had she left it?
"What's wrong?" Mihwa questioned, noting Kyunghee's frazzled expression.
Kyunghee pursed her lips and looked at Mihwa apologetically. "I'm sorry, halmoni. I think I lost my phone somewhere."
"Oh no," Mihwa breathed. "When did you last have it?"
Kyunghee contemplated. "I had it this morning still but then…" Her words trailed off as she recalled the hospital episode with Jang Woosuk. For some reason, her suspicions that he might have her phone grew but she had no concrete evidence at the moment.
"But then?"
Kyunghee brought her attention back to Mihwa's prompting. Kyunghee didn't think it was fair to let the old granny worry about her even more with the truth. Especially if, in a few days when everything was settled with her apartment, they were going to part ways and probably never see each other again. The thought of never seeing the granny again somehow made her sad.
"I don't know," Kyunghee replied obscurely. On the one hand, she truly didn't know where her phone went. At the same time, she had a growing suspicion.
"It's okay," Mihwa comforted. "It's just a phone. Where were you anyway?"
"I…went to a café."
"Goodness, you worried me. I thought something bad happened to you, Kyung."
"Sorry halmoni. I wanted to get a coffee and some fresh air, but I guess I lost track of time."
"As long as you're okay." Mihwa patted Kyunghee's arm lovingly.
Kyunghee's gaze flicked over to Jintae skeptically. The corners of her mouth tugged into a subtle frown. She didn't want to say it in front of the man, but she made a note to have a private conversation with the granny later. She didn't want the elder to be calling Detective Hothead at every little thing that happened to her, or didn't happen to her. Kyunghee didn't like the idea of being tied down to the hotheaded cop any further that she already was.
The slight change in Kyunghee's demeanor didn't go unnoticed by Jintae. However, he chose not to say anything but for some reason, he wasn't happy about it either.
He turned to the old granny and addressed her, "Halmoni, since everything's fine here, I'll get going."
Mihwa didn't live to her age without understanding a thing or two about social cues. Besides, her instincts were sharp, and she immediately picked up on the awkward tensions battling between Jintae and Kyunghee, though she wasn't sure what the cause for it was. Kyunghee didn't seem to like Jintae very much, though Mihwa couldn't understand why. The detective, on the other hand, seemed a bit misconstrued and a little bit helpless, so Mihwa sympathized with him. Mihwa figured something must have happened between the two that she didn't know about, but she was also a peace-loving person. If she could help the two of them get over their misunderstandings and become friends, it would be the best for everyone.
"Not yet you're not," Mihwa disagreed firmly. "We haven't finished dinner yet, so where do you think you're going? My beef bone soup recipe is quite popular. Now that everyone is here, safe and sound, I'll go heat things up in the kitchen. It shouldn't take too long. The two of you get friendly now." Mihwa didn't give either of them a moment to protest. Her words were final as she sauntered off to the kitchen, leaving behind the two in a taxing silence.
Unsure of what to do, Kyunghee walked up to the couch and sat down. Jintae reluctantly sat down too. Neither of them said anything as they sat side by side. The only sound they could hear was the granny humming happily in the kitchen as she heated up dinner.
Questions ran through Jintae's mind, but he couldn't formulate them into words. Kyunghee was stewing in her own thoughts too. She would be lying if she said she wasn't biased against the police. She simply didn't like cops and with him being one—especially after the hell ride with him that nearly cost her life—she really didn't want to be anywhere near the man. Despite what Mihwa suggested, Kyunghee had no intentions on being friends with the police. They had nothing in common either.
Clearing her throat, Kyunghee absentmindedly rolled up her sleeves. "I'll go see if halmoni needs help," she said as she got up from the couch. Before she could take another step however, his hand wrapped itself around her left wrist and held her knuckles up to light.
"What's this?" he questioned, looking at the new scrapes and scabs.
Kyunghee's eyes widened, and she tried to retrieve her hand, but he tightened his grip. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced surreptitiously in the kitchen's direction, catching a glimpse of Mihwa's unsuspecting back. In a hushed tone, she instructed, "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's nothing."
"It looks fresh."
She was a little irritated that he had hawk-eyes. Kyunghee paused and changed her tone into a pleading one, "I don't want halmoni to know."
Jintae glanced at the kitchen where the granny was busying away with dinner. An image of the old lady pacing back and forth from earlier came to mind. Then his gaze returned to the scrapes on her knuckles that she was still trying to hide under the sleeves. For some reason, he was suddenly a bit angry with her. Without letting go of her wrist, Jintae got up and pulled Kyunghee toward the bathroom.
Kyunghee bit her lip, stopping herself from making a big commotion, as she glowered into the back of his head, wondering what the heck Detective Hothead was up to. He pulled her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. The bathroom was a decent size but with his strapping stature, the room appeared cramped and discomforting. There was barely enough personal space with him all up in her face.
"What are you doing?" she hissed in low tones as she tried to maneuver around him.
Jintae blocked Kyunghee from escaping. "If you don't want halmoni to know then be quiet and listen to me," he commanded in a surly voice, pinning her into place with a hardened, no-nonsense gaze—the kind that cops used on their suspects. The kind that Kyunghee hated, but admittedly was also a bit apprehensive about.
Kyunghee pursed her lips in quiet defiance as she reluctantly sat down on the closed lidded toilet. Jintae opened the medicinal cabinet and pulled out a compact first-aid kit. He looked so at ease with where things were located that it surprised Kyunghee.
"How do you know there's a first-aid kit there? Were you looking through halmoni's things?"
The question reminded Jintae of the faint scalding sensation on his inner left wrist, the spot where he had accidentally spilled hot tea on a couple of hours ago, when the granny had been going on about Kyunghee's disappearance. Mihwa had showed him the first-aid kit then. However, Jintae ignored Kyunghee's question.
"Show me your hand," he commanded in a direct manner.
She hesitated but ended up raising both hands. He paused and stared at both hands, clenching his jaw in disbelief. He didn't think there were scrapes on the other hand too. Just exactly what was this woman doing all day? Jintae thought in annoyance. He doubted she was only at a café for coffee run. He had an urge to reprimand her clumsiness, but when he looked into those hazel eyes hiding a tinge of shame, he couldn't help sigh inwardly.
Grabbing the antiseptic wipes, he moved over to the other side and sat down on the edge of the tub beside the toilet, reaching for her right hand first. He brusquely tore open the antiseptic wipe with his teeth, but gently wiped down the area that showed small signs of blood. Kyunghee flinched from the stinging sensation as she watched his movement in silence. Neither of them said a word to each other. The only sounds audible was their steady breathing and of Jintae working away at the first-aid kit.
For a man who looked like he was perpetually in a bad mood, he was surprisingly gentle with his touch.
"If you didn't want the old granny to worry, why not take care of yourself first?" Jintae grumbled in discontent as he turned up the palm of her hand, inspecting it closely. At least the scrapes weren't that bad, he concluded. He reached for a second antiseptic wipe.
"It's just a small scratch," she countered stubbornly.
"Right," he said and purposefully pressed harder into the wound on her palm, applying sadistic pressure.
"Ouch!" Kyunghee cried, attempting to pull her hand back out of instinct but Jintae refused to let go. "You jerk!"
"Isn't it just a small scratch?" he drily asked, calling her bluff, but there was a strange spasm in his heart when she looked at him through slightly moistened eyes. He released the pressure.
"If that's how you're going to help, I'd rather do it myself." She glowered.
The displeasure in her words was clear as day, but for some reason, he liked the sound of her voice. Jintae lowered his focus to the task at hand, bandaging her up where it was needed. The bathroom fell into a thickened silence again.
"You're not going to tell halmoni, right?" Kyunghee asked moments later, looking at him hopefully.
Jintae acted as if he was blind to the imploring look, but without realizing it, his actions become gentler. "I won't, but she's going to see the bandages anyway. She's got a sharp mind. What happened?"
"I tripped and fell."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You don't believe me?"
"Hard to say, Pink."
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Stop calling me Pink."
"You prefer Stella?"
"Don't say that in front of halmoni!"
"Can't call you this, can't call you that. You're so hard to please."
"Nobody's asking you to please me."
His movements stopped as he contemplated the potential double-meaning behind those words. He shifted his gaze up to meet hers. She was looking at him in bewilderment, unaware of the naughty things going through his mind.
"What?" She blinked, wary.
Jintae coughed and shook his head, suddenly feeling like the shitty person with the bad thoughts here. He concentrated on nursing the scrapes. He didn't want to stare into those captivating, emotive eyes. He'd be damned to let her know he thought her attractive in more ways than one, although she probably already knew that about herself. It was hard to fathom a woman like her would have no awareness of her sex appeal to the opposite gender, especially since she worked at Playlights as a dancer. Not everyone could work at Playlights as a dancer. As superficial as it was, the girls had to meet a certain visual requirement to be hired—the kind of requirement that tickled a man's fantasy and ensure he racked up the night's bill.
It wasn't as if he had never interacted with those kinds of women before. Some of them were even his informants. So, what made her any different than the others? Was it the eyes or the dimpled smile, or was it because of his unfinished story ten years ago? A story this woman didn't remember she was a part of.
He ran a background check, so he was sure now.
She was the same girl back then—Ahn Kyunghee.