Torn at the Seams
The atmosphere felt like the stock could get delisted any second, and Ji-eum went pale. Had Kwon Beom-ju seen the discussion board too? Worry churning through her mind, she typed out a message.
The instant she hit send, the bell over the entrance jangled loudly.
“Welcome. This is Cafe Gureum.”
It started with a customer holding a child’s hand, and suddenly the cafe was packed. Energetic kindergarten kids bounced in, followed by young moms pushing strollers. Every seat filled in no time, and a long line snaked in front of the counter. With no kiosk in the shop, Ji-eum handled every order alone.
“Ready to order?”
“One Americano and… no, two. And three lattes… make that four.”
“Hot ones?”
“One Americano hot. And… hey, you guys want ice? Yeah, the rest iced. Oh, you want a hot mocha latte? Hmm, I’ll switch mine to orangeade. Like that.”
“Yes…?”
Her head spinning, she mashed buttons in a frenzy. The espresso machine roared as it pulled shots. The steam wand hissed loudly. Cups piled up everywhere. Ji-eum spun in circles between taking orders and making drinks.
Na-hee… how on earth did you handle all this by yourself…
“Order up—cough—your grapefruit blended and iced chocolate are readyyy!”
Only after the backlog finally cleared did her locked shoulders loosen. She tidied the mess around her, then stood at the counter rubbing them.
“Insane. We were completely full….”
When she came back to herself, not a single table inside was empty. Exhausted, she looked around, and a smile tugged at her lips. Kids of roughly the same height—just the right age for daycare and kindergarten—sat on sofas their feet couldn’t even reach, looking impossibly cute. One little one stuffing a cookie into their mouth with tiny hands met her eyes, and Ji-eum squinted in a smile and waved.
“Aigoo, so adorable. They’re smiling back….”
It was a pure white-canvas kind of smile. At that age, Ji-eum herself had never been a child who could laugh that brightly.
Back when she was little and first noticed that her mom and dad’s relationship wasn’t like other people’s. She’d been so careful not to upset either of them that she had no memories of laughing, chattering, or acting spoiled.
Maybe it was some kind of compensation for that childhood… but in the end it had led her all the way to early childhood education.
She shook off the bitter memory, and by then the shop had emptied out again. With a moment to breathe, Ji-eum used the lull to straighten up. She pulled as many slice cakes from the freezer as had gone out and restocked the showcase, wiped the milk-foam splatters clean off the countertop, then started organizing the trays when—knock knock. Someone rapped on the counter.
Ji-eum straightened and stepped up to face the customer.
“Ready to order?”
“Looks pretty quiet. You could probably run it unmanned.”
At the familiar voice she lifted her gaze from the POS.
It was Kwon Beom-ju in a shirt. His general-ed class should have just ended—had he come straight over? Why skip the on-campus cafes to come all the way outside the back gate? A ridiculous thought flickered through her head.
Don’t tell me he came to see me…
Nah, no way.
“What are you talking about. This place was packed until right before you showed up. What brings you here?”
“Heard you can’t do my care duty because you’re covering for Park Na-hee.”
“And?”
“Came to watch whether you work better without me around. I’ll take a hot green tea.”
Green tea—it was on the menu, but this was the first order for it all day. Leave it to him to order something weird even to drink…. Ji-eum tapped at the POS as if she understood, then casually pushed away the hand offering his card.
“Forget it. Put the card away.”
“Why won’t you take the money?”
“Part-timer privilege. Just drink it. I can give it to you free.”
Na-hee had said they could take up to three drinks on the employee perk. These days she was already getting free cafeteria meals while doing his care, and he’d paid at the movies too, so one green tea was on the house.
Suddenly she wondered where Beom-ju even got his money. Rich-family young master? He carried himself with an overall ease that made her guess his family was pretty well-off. Envy, pure envy….
“Anyway, thanks for the freebie?”
When she handed over the fully steeped green tea, Beom-ju curved his mouth in a pleased smile, took the tray, and sat right at the seat in front of the counter.
Because of the spot, even if she didn’t want to look, her eyes kept drifting to him. The black shirt and deep charcoal pants suited him ridiculously well.
Those long legs stretched under the table. The hems rode up above his ankle bones, leaving them bare.
Are guys’ ankles normally like that? She stared for a long moment at the sharply protruding bone. The more she looked, the more her lower belly tickled with a strange feeling.
Ji-eum whipped around and finished tidying around the counter.
Then she suddenly stopped and secretly checked the little mirror behind it. Her hair was a bit messy from the rushed morning bun.
“…….”
She lightly smoothed the side strands. Her lips looked dry too, so she quickly pulled out lip balm and swiped it on. Did I come out looking too rough…?
She was muttering to herself, staring hard into the mirror, when—
Thud…!
At the sudden noise she jerked her head up and scanned beyond the counter. What was that?
Somehow Kwon Beom-ju was down on one knee on the floor, cradling a child in his left arm.
The chair he’d been sitting in lay toppled, so he must have lunged to catch the kid in a hurry. A woman who’d been farther away hurried over, grabbed the child’s hand, and bent at the waist.
“We almost had a bad fall just now! Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Seo-jun, say thank you to the big brother. Go on, thank you.”
“Big brotheeer. Thank youuu….”
Apparently Beom-ju had slid in fast and scooped up the child who’d been about to wipe out while running. The mom kept repeating her thanks, then her gaze dropped toward Beom-ju’s pants.
“Anyway, th-thank you so much.”
Eyes wide, the mother quickly took her child’s hand and hurried away.
“……?”
Why’s she acting like that…. Watching from the counter, Ji-eum tilted her head—then something caught her eye. The inner seam of Beom-ju’s pants had split open about a handspan along the stitching.
“Kwon Beom-ju!”
Holy shit, your underwear’s showing…!
She shot out from behind the counter, grabbed his hand, and shoved him inside in one swift motion. A few customers seemed to have already caught a glimpse, but at least she stopped the disaster from drawing even more stares.
“What?”
“Your un— I mean…. Don’t you know? Your pants are ripped.”
They both looked down at the same spot at once. A clear stretch of black boxers and bare thigh muscle was on full display.
Wow… now I’ve even seen his underwear. I’ve literally seen everything….
“Ah, you’re right. What do I do?”
You’re asking me?
“Haa, what kind of pants just rip on you….”
“Maybe ’cause my thighs are thick?”
“Hold still.”
She would have preferred to leave him to handle it himself, but this was an emergency. It wasn’t like he’d torn them horsing around alone—he’d ripped them saving a kid—so she decided to do him a special favor.
She dragged a folding stool behind the showcase where the counter couldn’t see, crammed his huge frame onto it, then dug through her bag for a small sewing kit and an emergency blanket.
“You’re seriously lucky, you know that. Wrap this around yourself and give me the pants.”
Beom-ju eyed the pink blanket with the bunny print and tilted his head.
“Is that gonna cover me? As you can see, I’m kinda big.”
“It covers everything, okay? It’s thin, but it’s extra-large size.”
Ji-eum unfurled the folded blanket with a snap. It wrapped snugly around his waist, and a moment later came the soft click of a belt buckle coming undone.
“Taking them off.”
“Just take them off without announcing it, geez.”
Ugh….
She’d told him to strip, yet her nape still heated up for no good reason. It felt weird how she kept getting tangled up with him like this. Was she going to catch feelings at this rate?
No way. Feelings don’t build over stuff like this….
“Here.”
The pants were suddenly thrust into her distracted hands.
“Just sewing the tear?”
“Yeah. Sucks that my hand’s busted. I’m actually a pro at sewing.”
If it weren’t for the cast on his right arm he would’ve done it himself, Beom-ju chattered from the side.
The blanket was big, but so thin that his silhouette kept flashing through in glimpses. It was driving her crazy how much it bothered her.