Only I’m Annoyed
Princess. It was one of the words Gong Juhee hated hearing the most. Ever since that dazzling spring when she turned seventeen and someone had first called her that.
They say ten years can change mountains and rivers, so why hasn’t this man changed at all?
Even though her heart was still pounding wildly, Juhee opened her mouth with calm composure.
“It’s not Princess. It’s Gong Juhee.”
Yet the way her voice trembled thinly was probably because of the dizzying position she was in—sprawled face-down between the man’s legs.
When Juhee hurriedly tried to get up, the man moved with her. The timing couldn’t have been worse. She lost her balance and ended up collapsing against his chest once more.
Thanking her lucky stars that their faces hadn’t collided, Juhee lifted her head in a flash of irritation.
She really shouldn’t have.
The man’s eyes, gazing down at her with perfect nonchalance, were an especially deep black. Deep enough to summon long-forgotten old memories.
He had been one of Taemin’s few friends.
The strikingly handsome friend of Han Taemin who, when they were young, had seemed to like her just a little, yet somehow always managed to grate on her nerves. And not just handsome—devastatingly so.
Their first meeting had been a spectacle.
Just like now, she had tripped over his foot and fallen right on top of him, their lips crashing together violently. As a result, both of them had ended up bleeding from the mouth.
The memory of that first collision made Juhee’s cheeks burn hot.
After that awkward beginning, they had run into each other again and again, as if by coincidence or fate. Maybe that was why, through those repeated encounters, a strange sort of reluctant affection had taken root.
Take care, Princess.
That was why, on the day he left, the single whispered farewell he left in her ear had left her feeling just a little wistful.
The tall, vivid blue sky. The black curls dancing in the blowing wind. Those deep eyes where light seemed to pool. The lazily curved red lips. The gentle hand that had absentmindedly stroked her hair.
The last moment with him was etched in her heart like a scene from a movie.
To Juhee, the man had been a mysterious being she couldn’t quite define. She disliked him, yet not entirely. He annoyed her to death, yet she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. He was mischievous, yet kind. It felt like he was tormenting her, yet he also seemed to look after her. When he was out of sight, she grew curious. When he was in sight, he irritated her.
As she recalled the past, the memory of their colliding lips resurfaced, and Juhee’s cheeks flushed crimson again.
“If you stop moving and stay still, I’ll get up myself.”
At Juhee’s words, the man let out a soft, intrigued chuckle. His narrowed eyes gleamed even brighter. Like a field dyed by sunset, the man’s eyes flickered with a reddish glow.
How could someone with such beautiful eyes be so good at saying such infuriating things?
“I don’t want to.”
Ah, how annoying. If she had her way, she’d want to step on the man beneath her with her knees and get up, but of course he wouldn’t let her do it nicely.
“If you don’t want to, shall we just stay like this?”
Her voice remained calm, but it carried quite a bit of defiance.
But he wasn’t the kind of man who would be provoked by such rebellion.
“If that’s what the princess wants…”
“I don’t want that.”
Juhee cut him off sharply before he could finish.
As the man moved slowly with an amused expression, large hands firmly wrapped around Juhee’s shoulders and waist just as she tried to move with him. It was around then that her body, which had been fiercely protesting with her eyes—what the hell are you doing?—suddenly floated into the air.
“You’ll fall if I don’t hold you.”
The moment the low voice brushed against her ear, Juhee reflexively wrapped her arms around the man’s neck. By the time she blinked, her two feet were firmly planted on the floor.
The man casually stepped back and let out another meaningless chuckle.
“I have impeccable manners, you know.”
What he said was even more infuriating.
To keep herself from reacting, Juhee bit down hard on her lower lip. The man’s dense pupils swept over her face like a spiderweb.
The man’s eyes, which held the sunset captive, were still flickering red.
Eyes that could set a person on fire. Eyes like that shouldn’t be used to look at a woman.
Driven by an inexplicable rebellious spirit, Juhee met his gaze instead of avoiding it. The man reached out to her. In what felt like slow motion, his hand approached and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t bring herself to slap the hand away. Because that seemingly indifferent yet gentle touch didn’t seem to carry any ulterior motives.
“Don’t chew on your lip.”
Unlike his smoothly curved red lips, the man’s eyes—devoid of a smile—were dark and deep, as if holding a storm.
“What if Executive Director Han gets the wrong idea?”
The low voice, laced with a faint hint of laughter, was as tender as a caress. Nevertheless, Juhee was thrown into confusion.
Only Taemin’s mother, Hye-sun, and her friend Yeji knew about their relationship. Taemin, who wasn’t the type to carelessly run his mouth even to close acquaintances, had kept it secret even from his best friend Seok-hoon. So there was no way he would have told a man who wasn’t as close as Seok-hoon.
Then how do you… No, just how much do you know?
Her pupils trembled helplessly behind her glasses. Having thrown a stone into the still waters, the man took a couple of steps back and spoke in a low voice.
“Manage your expression.”
The moment the man shoved both hands deep into his pants pockets, the closed door of the executive office opened and Taemin entered, escorting an elderly man.
The man standing there arrogantly as if nothing had happened, and herself standing demurely in front of him. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like a superior and his subordinate.
Marveling at the impeccable timing, Juhee quickly bowed at a perfect ninety degrees to the elderly man.
“Welcome, Chairman.”
The instant she saw Chairman Yang Hak-rae, the head of Seohwa Group, Juhee finally understood why the man had been in Taemin’s office.
Yoon Jeha. The one and only grandson of Chairman Yang of Seohwa Group.
That was this man’s identity.
With his tie pulled down carelessly and several buttons of his dress shirt undone.
Combined with his slouched posture and the arrogance that showed he didn’t care in the slightest, Jeha looked less like he was in an executive office and more like a model on a photoshoot set.
However, standing beside Jeha was not a clapping staff or director, but Chairman Yang, who was staring at him with clear displeasure.
“Just look at the state of you!”
The pen Chairman Yang grabbed and hurled flew straight toward Jeha’s broad shoulder. When Jeha casually caught it with one hand, the chairman’s face filled with disbelief.
Jeha slipped the pen between his long fingers, twirled it around, and asked in a bored tone.
“If my appearance offends you, should I just go back?”
Nine years ago, Jeha had volunteered to go overseas, and it had been his way of declaring he would never set foot on Korean soil again. It was Chairman Yang who had used every smooth word and persuasion to bring him back.
He might twist things his own way and burn everyone’s hearts black, but the chairman had said Jeha was the most outstanding among his bloodline. That if he just came back to Korea, he would hand over all of Seohwa.
In truth, Jeha had not the slightest interest in Seohwa Group. Whether it flourished or collapsed meant nothing to him. But watching the older relatives who had treated him like a filthy beast since childhood make those shit-eating faces was quite entertaining. And if he got tired of that, he could simply leave Korea again without regret.
Well, there were also things in Korea he was curious about. Things he wanted to confirm.
Those trivial interests and curiosities had become a single current that brought Jeha back to Korea.
“Who said anything about going back? You’re too twisted about everything!”
“You told me to come back even if I’m twisted, as long as I run the company well.”
Whether Chairman Yang’s face turned beet red and he exploded or not, Jeha’s entire attention was focused elsewhere.
The pair of man and woman sitting side by side across from him. They were clearly lovers, yet Han Taemin and Taemin’s princess were both pretending otherwise.
“Look at Executive Director Han. How neat and pleasant he looks. What are you even using those perfectly fine hands for? Button up properly and fix your tie!”
“I only use my precious hands for signing documents.”
“Y-you—!”
Ignoring Chairman Yang’s pointing finger, Jeha asked Taemin.
“You tied your tie well. Did you do it yourself?”
“That’s correct.”
At Taemin’s polite response, mindful of the chairman, Jeha let out a soft chuckle.
“Speak comfortably. You haven’t even been appointed CEO yet, so there’s no need for honorifics between friends.”
“…Right.”
Earlier her face had turned so red and she had glared so fiercely. Yet even at the mention of him becoming CEO, Gong Juhee kept her eyes slightly lowered, her face remaining perfectly composed.
Perhaps that was why a strange impulse rose in Jeha—the urge to rip off the neat mask Gong Juhee wore. And he knew her one and only weakness far too well.
“But Taemin, you’re not very good at that sort of thing, are you?”
The implication in his words was a direct challenge to the truth. The moment Taemin’s face stiffened strangely, Juhee, who had been as still as air, opened her mouth calmly.
“If you come in early in the morning, I’ll do it for you. The attire of the executive I serve is also part of my duties.”
“Our Secretary Gong, why don’t you do something about this guy’s clothes too.”
It had been a casual remark born of frustration from Chairman Yang, but to a subordinate, it was an order that could not be ignored.
Even when Juhee rose from the sofa and approached right in front of him, Jeha remained seated with perfect composure.
“Could you stand up for a moment?”
Only then did Jeha rise slowly. The overwhelming height difference made her bite her lower lip out of habit, and her face clearly showed how troubled she was.
Of course she was troubled. To tie his tie, she would have to step into his arms, which she hated, but she couldn’t very well tell him to sit back down after asking him to stand.
Even though his heart had turned wicked, seeing those clear eyes that didn’t know what to do softened Jeha’s resolve.
He had no choice but to give in again this time, like a madman.
Instead of the sofa, Jeha plopped down on the armrest. Not only did he match their eye level, he even spread his long legs wide, making space for Juhee to stand between them.
Despite the consideration he had gone out of his way to show, Princess Gong now looked like she was contemplating. Whether it would be better to stand on her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his neck, or to stand between his legs.
Jeha decided to kindly resolve her dilemma once again.
“Aren’t you going to tie my tie?”
Only then did Juhee slowly approach and stand between his legs. She let out a shallow, quiet breath and reached her slender hands toward Jeha’s neck. Though the tension was obvious in her posture, the way she untied the necktie, lifted the shirt collar, slipped the tie underneath, and knotted it was as smooth as flowing water.
A mere few seconds passed by languidly.
Following the quiet breaths she exhaled. Following her calm, downward gaze and her still movements. Following the sweet scent—whether perfume or her own body—that trailed after her.
It felt as if only the two of them existed in this space right now. A strange illusion washed over him like a gentle river current.
As he stared at her as if spellbound, time flowed backward and memories rose up with it.
A long time ago, Taemin had said he would marry Princess. So a few days before returning to Korea, Jeha had called Taemin and asked lightly, like a passing breeze.
‘Did you get married?’
‘Not yet. But I think it’ll happen soon.’
Soon, huh.
Has she been tying Han Taemin’s tie for him like this all this time? Have they set a wedding date? Once they’re married, she’ll probably do it for him every day at home instead of the office.
When such a trivial curiosity raised its head, an unbearable irritation surged through Jeha.
“Could you stand up once more?”
Juhee’s calm voice pulled Jeha back to reality.
Ha, damn it. Swallowing a curse, Jeha stood up, and Juhee reached out to him again. Her slender, long fingers danced as they buttoned his suit jacket, adjusted his cufflinks, and straightened his sleeves.
“All done.”
“Now that looks much more presentable. Good work, Secretary Gong.”
Chairman Yang burst into hearty laughter, apparently pleased with Jeha’s polished appearance.
Even though his woman had just tied another man’s tie, Han Taemin’s face remained utterly indifferent. The princess, who had been so tense earlier, now sat beside Taemin with the same neat expression and posture as if nothing had happened.
So in this situation, only I’m annoyed.
“What’s presentable about it? It’s suffocating.”
Jeha yanked down the tie Juhee had carefully knotted and even undid a few more buttons of his shirt.
Yet when he saw that Gong Juhee didn’t show the slightest flicker of agitation, his irritation only grew stronger.
“I’m going out for some air.”
Paying no mind to the three pairs of dumbfounded eyes staring at him, Jeha left the executive office.
The moment he stepped into the elevator, Jeha irritably swept his hair back and thought about it. The trivial interests and curiosities that had made it necessary for him to return to Korea. Those insignificant, petty reasons.
Absurdly enough, quite a few of them had to do with Gong Juhee.
How had that little brat grown up? Was she still prickly and wary? Was she doing well with Han Taemin? Was she smiling more now, living happily?
Would she be a little less irritating now?
“Fuck.”
It was so ridiculous that Jeha ended up laughing.
Less irritating? The problem was that she irritated him even more than before.