Soft as Cotton Candy
So she’d really pulled an all-nighter for that assignment after all.
Her neck was already as slender as a deer’s; if it kept bouncing around like that, it looked ready to snap.
“…Keep that up and you’re gonna lose your head.”
Kwon Beom-ju tipped his shoulder toward Ji-eum and gently nudged her rocking head with his fingers until it settled against him.
Plop. The lightest, smallest head he’d ever felt rested on his shoulder, so soft he barely registered the contact.
What the hell. Why’s she so light? Is she made of cotton candy?
The weight and texture made no sense. Curious, he tilted his head and studied Lee Ji-eum’s face lit by the glow of the screen.
The light made her look especially bright. Beom-ju’s gaze traced the lines of her face in a slow, careful sweep.
Her long eyelashes fluttered with every soft breath. Fine peach fuzz stood out adorably against her pale skin. His eyes drifted past the tip of her small nose and landed on her lips. The upper one was fuller than the lower—an unusual shape.
Maybe that’s why. I kinda want to press it.
The thought had barely formed when—
“…….”
Beom-ju’s gaze dropped to his own lap.
“What the hell is this….”
His body was reacting in the worst possible way. What had been half-hard for a while now was suddenly standing at full, rigid attention.
Why here, of all places?
Annoyed, he snapped his eyes back to the screen. It had to be because the tip of his dick had brushed against her when she’d dug the tickets out of her pocket earlier. Something had clearly short-circuited.
Ha, why’s it getting bigger, you piece of shit…. Settle down already.
Determined to purify himself with zombies, Beom-ju forced his attention onto the movie.
Still no zombies in sight. What kind of garbage film is this? he thought, reaching for popcorn—just as the kindly smiling middle-aged man behind the protagonist suddenly turned into a zombie.
“Sh-shit….”
It was a trash movie that made Dawn of the Dead look like high art, but the zombie effects were legitimately terrifying.
Beom-ju shuddered hard. Ji-eum was still breathing softly against his shoulder, fast asleep.
Oh man, this is bad. I’m scared watching this alone. That’s why I asked her to come with me in the first place.
“Ha….”
He pressed himself back into the seat and lowered his eyes. He’d sworn to look only at the screen, but his gaze drifted on its own. There, resting on her knee, was Ji-eum’s small white hand. It looked just like a puppy’s paw.
I’m scared out of my mind. Holding her hand a little should be fine, right? His body moved faster than the thought.
“Hey. I’m holding your hand.”
He whispered it, then took her hand and settled it on his own knee.
It didn’t help at all.
Instead of calming down, his heart started pounding twice as hard.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump….
Worse, heat was flooding through his entire body.
It’s spring—did they crank the heater in here? It’s muggy as hell….
“Hey.”
“…….”
“Hey. You asleep?”
“…….”
“You seriously out?”
He thought he saw her eyelashes tremble and leaned in for a closer look, but her tightly closed eyes stayed shut until the credits rolled.
Thud, thud. On the way out of the theater Beom-ju dumped the empty nacho tray, popcorn bucket, and soda cup into the trash. Including the people who’d wandered in midway, fewer than ten of them stretched and drifted into the lobby.
Ji-eum walked with him toward the elevators.
“So… was the movie good? I dozed off and barely saw the ending.”
“Started off meh, but it got scary as hell toward the end.”
“Really? The beginning wasn’t scary at all. What happened?”
“I was distracted too, so I didn’t catch everything. When it drops on streaming we can rewatch it together.”
“Uh…. Yeah, maybe.”
Other theaters must have let out around the same time; the elevator lobby was already packed.
“Want to wait for the next one?”
“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s just take this.”
The moment the doors opened, Ji-eum was shoved into a corner. She immediately regretted not waiting. The cramped space forced everyone’s bodies flush together.
She was getting squashed into a hotteok when a large arm swept in, hooked around her shoulders, and pulled her firmly against a solid chest. Kwon Beom-ju’s distinctive scent wrapped around her.
“Crowded as hell. You okay?”
“Ugh…. Yeah.”
Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, she quickly dropped her gaze.
Her heart hammered. This position feels weird, doesn’t it…? Of course it did—he had one arm wrapped around her. She also worried he might hear her heartbeat and get the wrong idea.
After what felt like an eternity they finally reached the lobby floor.
“Hah… hah….”
Ji-eum barely escaped his broad chest and let out the long breath she’d been holding. She’d been holding it so tightly she’d nearly passed out.
Walking ahead of Kwon Beom-ju, she rubbed the back of her flushed neck.
Just now… that atmosphere was seriously awkward, right?
“Ugh.”
Wanting to shake off the strange feeling, her steps unconsciously quickened.
The second they stepped outside, her pounding heart finally began to settle. Fresh air really was the best. The spring breeze brushed her heated face and cooled her racing thoughts.
At some point Kwon Beom-ju had drawn right up beside her. Hands in his pockets, he spoke with easy leisure.
“Let’s go eat.”
The movie wasn’t the end of it. They hadn’t discussed every detail, but he’d apparently mapped out a whole course.
“Ah, that Western place you sent the link for?”
“Yeah. It’s right behind us, so we can walk. Weather’s nice anyway.”
“Okay.”
Side by side they strolled down the tree-lined street, naturally falling into step. Fresh floral scents drifted through the air.
“Outside really is the best… the absolute best….”
Whether it was the scent tickling her chest or something else, she suddenly felt glad she’d come out today. She flung her arms wide and drew in a deep lungful of clean air. Kwon Beom-ju clicked his tongue.
“I’m asking seriously—did you just get out of prison or what?”
“Oh my god, no! It’s just been a while….”
“That so?”
He gave a tiny smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth.
“Well then, want me to hang out with you again tomorrow? You’ve only got one morning class, right?”
“Tomorrow?”
Ji-eum hesitated for a beat.
“…I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I promised to cover Na-hee’s café shift. I forgot to tell you, so I can’t do the nursing tomorrow either.”
“Café cover shift?”
When she nodded, Beom-ju pressed his long index finger against her forehead and pushed.
“Trying to skip out on me? Fine. One extra day, then.”
Gurgle…. While the shot poured, Ji-eum retied the loosened apron strings snugly. She dropped two shots into a glass filled with ice cubes and pressed the vibrating pager. A customer soon came and took the iced Americano from the tray.
“It’s actually kinda fun doing this again after so long….”
Once the semester ended she might have to pick up a part-time job again over summer break. She still hadn’t decided what, but the café work after such a long break was surprisingly doable. Maybe it just felt that way because there were no customers.
Ji-eum stood at the counter and slowly surveyed the shop.
Didn’t they say this place does pretty well? Super busy, that’s why the hourly pay’s high. Yet after opening, the only customer inside was the one study-café regular who’d just taken the iced Americano.
Feeling awkward just standing there, she wiped down the coffee machine area and the sink. She even organized the chaotic fridge. With nothing left to do, she leaned on the counter and opened her phone.
Savor… this moment?
The café sat between apartment complexes right by the school’s back gate—the place where Na-hee had recently started working. With her sister away on a business trip and needing someone to watch her nephew, Ji-eum had agreed to cover for a day.
Her morning lecture had ended early, the afternoon one was canceled, and the pay was decent, so there was nothing to lose. Na-hee had insisted it was brutally hard, but so far Ji-eum wasn’t feeling it.
“Guess today’s just a slow day.”
Thinking she was lucky, Ji-eum opened the mock stock-trading app. She suddenly wondered how their group project was going. Every morning when she went over to help with his nursing, Beom-ju was always glued to this app with a deadly serious face… hopefully he hadn’t lost everything.
“Huh…?”
The red numbers on the screen snapped her hazy eyes wide open.
A return of 32.8%? Just a few days ago the virtual assets had been at 10 million won; now they’d climbed past 13 million. She’d basically earned 3 million won sitting still.
“…….”
It was only mock investing, but she finally understood why people went crazy for stocks. Just as Beom-ju had explained, the utility sector and AI robotics sector had risen across the board, and one stock in particular had surged hard. It was Seohan Robotics—the one he’d kept calling the leading stock.
He’d recommended it so insistently that she’d agreed to buy even without really understanding, never dreaming it would climb this high.
Kwon Beom-ju, you’re pretty good at this, huh?
I can’t be the weak link. As the one in charge of the final group presentation, she figured she should at least know the reasons behind each stock’s rise. She firmly tapped into the stock discussion board—better known as the “jongtobang.”
“Hah….”