I'll Take You Anywhere

I should have gone back instead of waiting. I should have turned him down at the café and left. If I had refused somehow, back then—would I have been spared this? No. If I had, it might have happened at the café instead of the bar. And that would have meant Cha Mu-yeol might never have been there to help me.

"I'm grateful."

"I didn't do it to hear a thank-you."

He answered as if it were nothing.

"I happened to have an appointment there. And you happened to be there too, Go Eun-jae. A complete. Coincidence."

A strange feeling washed over her. Eun-jae slowly lifted her head to look at him, and as if he had been waiting for it, their eyes locked. How long had he been watching her? The moment she met those vivid black eyes—bright even in the dark—she couldn't move so much as a fingertip.

"I couldn't very well just walk past, could I."

Mu-yeol's expression remained unbothered as he tugged the corner of his mouth into a faint smile.

"Where should I take you?"

He looked away, eyes on the road ahead, then took the wheel and pulled the parked car out. She couldn't tell what he meant by that, and her voice came out a little flustered.

"Pardon?"

"I'm asking if you want to go to your family's house."

"Oh."

She had no idea why those words had sounded like something else. Had she, without even realizing it, wanted to hear them differently? Embarrassment flushed her face, and then a thought of relief: it was night, the car was very dark—he wouldn't see how flustered she was.

Then Mu-yeol looked at her again. A gleam flickered in those pitch-black eyes.

"If you'd rather go somewhere else, just say so."

"......"

His offer made her heart drop—a heavy, sudden thud. Where would be good? She didn't want to go back to that suffocating house.

By the time Mu-yeol had brought her to the Han River, her phone had been ringing relentlessly. She didn't need to look to know who it was. Hong Mi-jung, of course. Even the calls made her skin crawl. Eun-jae switched the phone off entirely.

"You could ask me to stay with you, too. I think I'd like that."

"......"

"I just don't know how you'd feel about it, Go Eun-jae."

Those words made Eun-jae's cheeks burn even hotter. She couldn't even look at him, and Mu-yeol, as if he could see her flustered face anyway, let out a light laugh.

When she didn't answer, they were heading toward Go Eun-jae's house. No—Mu-yeol was deliberately, pointedly driving toward her home. Ten minutes before they would arrive, Eun-jae peered out the window. Once she realized where his car was headed, she finally spoke.

"Um......"

Even after starting, she hesitated for several minutes.

"Why are you hesitating instead of just saying it?"

"If I wanted to... drink. Where should I go?"

The words that slipped from her lips were unexpected. Mu-yeol's grip on the wheel tightened.

"You want a drink?"

"D-don't take it the wrong way. I'm not asking you to come with me, I just... I've never drunk alone before. I was only asking. If you drop me off, I can figure it out myself... no, just pull over up there."

Rambling. She pointed at random toward the main road with her index finger.

"And what exactly do you think I'd find strange about that?"

"Well......"

Even after bringing it up herself, she let out a deep sigh. She was worried Mu-yeol might get the wrong idea.

"When a woman tells a man she wants to drink, it can seem a bit......"

"A bit?"

Mu-yeol had figured out what she was trying to say a long time ago. But a mischievous impulse crept up in him, and he asked as if he didn't already know.

"It could look... cheap. And also—"

"I'm going to suffocate waiting. Look, we're almost at your house."

He gave a light nod of his chin, and Eun-jae stared ahead with anxious eyes. He was right—once they climbed that hill, they'd be at her house. Eun-jae twisted around in her seat toward the driver's side in a rush. He was looking at the road, but her movement filled his peripheral vision.

"See? Why start talking and then stop. If you want something, just say it."

"......I was afraid I'd look easy."

"We'd have to have done something for you to look easy. You and I haven't done a thing yet."

Mu-yeol drove right past her house, making a point of it. Watching her family home recede once more, Eun-jae let out a breath of relief.

"I'll ask again. Do you want a drink?"

"......Yes."

He pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Mu-yeol's car pulled back out of the alley and onto the main road.

"I'll take care of the place."

"Thank you."

Eun-jae bowed her head.

"On one condition."

His low, weighty voice cut through the air.

An indescribable, strange feeling filled her. Eun-jae bit down on her lower lip and curled her hands into fists.

Had it been about an hour? His car stopped in front of a villa on Daebudo. Eun-jae went inside with Mu-yeol.

"Make yourself comfortable. No one else is coming."

Mu-yeol, who'd entered first, shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the living room sofa.

"Are you cold?"

"No. It's warm."

"Good."

Even though it was winter, the interior was remarkably warm. Quite apart from the sleek, urban design, the space looked as though someone's hands had tended it every day—everything orderly, lived-in. And the heating had been left on, as if expecting someone.

Eun-jae sat with the thought, then couldn't hold back her curiosity and found herself speaking.

"Who... turns on the heat here?"

The odd question drew a short, amused laugh from him. At that, Eun-jae immediately regretted it. Why did I ask that? She was still berating herself when he spoke.

"So that's what you're curious about, Go Eun-jae."

"......"

Embarrassed, Eun-jae rolled her lips inward and let her eyes wander.

"I come down here on weekends sometimes."

Meaning, apparently, that a caretaker kept the place ready. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and went into the kitchen.

Still standing motionless in the living room, staring blankly at Mu-yeol's back, Eun-jae turned over the words he'd said a moment ago. No one else is coming. The instant she recalled them, her heart began to beat irregularly.

"What do you like? Does the type of drink matter?"

His voice carried from the kitchen into the living room.

"Anything. Honestly, I don't know much about alcohol......"

The type didn't matter at all. She just wanted to drink until she couldn't remember—because it had all been too much. That was why the words had slipped out on impulse. She'd never actually drunk before, not even once. She'd never imagined that one offhand remark would bring her here, with Cha Mu-yeol.

"Go Eun-jae is......"

He trailed off suddenly. Still standing in the living room, Eun-jae slowly walked toward the kitchen where Mu-yeol was. As if deciding something of grave importance, he stood in front of the wine cellar, brow furrowed in concentration. Who would look at that and think he was merely choosing a drink?

Eun-jae watched him, transfixed. The loosely drawn tie. The shirt undone just enough. That large hand resting at his hip.

His hands...... Her gaze, traveling down his body, stopped there for a moment. She suddenly remembered those large hands holding her up, steady and firm, and heat rose to her face.

"This one should suit you."

He pulled out a bottle of wine and smiled faintly at Eun-jae. Flustered, she nodded at random.

"You haven't even had dinner. Give me just a little time. About thirty minutes."

With that, Mu-yeol set to work, moving busily.