The front door of the main house opened, letting in a gust of damp air. Hyun-woo stepped in first, wet but composed, his presence immediately drawing all eyes. Behind him, Seo-jin followed, still wearing Hyun-woo’s jacket, with Eun-sol close behind, an umbrella in hand. The group, gathered in the lounge, turned as one. Min-su, already on his feet, moved forward.

"There you are," Min-su exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. "Half the room was ready to form a rescue party, till Do-yeon had presence of mind to get me to call Eun-sol!"

Do-yeon moved forward, her concern etched on her face. "You’re soaked. Come on." As she reached for Seo-jin’s shoulder, her gaze fell upon the jacket. Her eyes flicked around the room, catching Soo-hyun, who had covered his mouth with his hand. Do-yeon shot him a sharp look, a silent warning, but said nothing aloud.

"You two were gone a while..." Sang-wook noted, his gaze flicking between Seo-jin and Hyun-woo.

Soo-hyun, grinning, rose slowly from his chair, stretching leisurely. "...and came back with a chaperone."

Eun-sol, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents, dropped her umbrella into a stand near the door.

Min-su scratched the back of his head, looking troubled. "Eun-sol, with the roads flooding, you can’t drive back tonight... but I don’t think there’s a spare room either." He looked genuinely unsure of what to do.

"She can take my room," Do-yeon offered immediately, ever the practical one. "I’ll bunk on the sofa."

"I couldn’t do that," Eun-sol demurred, turning to Seo-jin with a gentle smile. "You’re a guest here. I’ll stay with Seo-jin. If that’s okay?"

Do-yeon and Sang-wook looked at Seo-jin, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion. Seo-jin herself looked blankly at Eun-sol, clearly taken aback.

"No, she can take mine," Hyun-woo interjected before Seo-jin could respond. "I can..."

But before he could finish, Seo-jin, with a forced lightness, cut him off. "It’s fine. Of course, we can share."

"It’s settled then," Eun-sol declared, her smile widening, perhaps missing or ignoring the awkwardness.

"Are you sure?" Do-yeon pressed, her frustration with the situation evident. "You barely slept last time you shared with me. She can share with me, and I’m way more fun than she is."

"No, no. I’d be more than happy," Seo-jin insisted, perhaps a little too quickly.

Eun-sol moved forward, linking her arm through Seo-jin’s, then turned to the room. "If you will forgive us, we need to warm up and get out of these wet clothes." As she spoke, she gently guided Seo-jin backwards toward the hall and the stairs, then turned fully and walked her towards the upper floor.

Hyun-woo watched them go, no readable expression on his face, a still, enigmatic figure. Do-yeon, however, couldn't hide her frustration, a subtle clench of her jaw. Soo-hyun watched Hyun-woo, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Seo-jin's room was lit with a low lamplight, casting soft shadows. Twin beds stood neatly side-by-side. Seo-jin was already curled up under the blanket on one, facing the wall, as Eun-sol quietly tiptoed in, a towel slung around her neck.

Eun-sol moved carefully, the rustle of her movements barely audible. She dropped onto the bed across from Seo-jin’s. Silence settled between them. Then—

"So, you really do know Hyun-woo, huh?" Eun-sol’s voice was soft, curious, breaking the stillness.

"I used to," Seo-jin replied, her voice quiet, muffled by the blanket.

A pause stretched. Eun-sol watched Seo-jin thoughtfully, her head tilted. The rain began again, a soft patter on the windowpane, a gentle counterpoint to their hushed conversation.

"What was he like... when you worked together?" Seo-jin asked, turning slightly to face her, driven by a sudden, aching curiosity.

Eun-sol smiled faintly, recalling a warmth entering her voice. "He told you?" She paused. "Let’s see. Precise. Respectful. Always calm, even down to the way he cut foam boards." She smiled softly, a fond memory. "But cold, sometimes. Calculated every word before he spoke. Even hello."

"He’s still like that," Seo-jin murmured, a faint, half-smile on her face.

"I don’t think he always was," Eun-sol mused, her voice growing contemplative. "There were flashes. Moments where he looked at people... like he was feeling something, not filing it away." Seo-jin turned further, watching her in the dim light, hanging onto every word.

"You must know... what happened to him," Eun-sol continued gently, her voice full of empathy. "Something must’ve made him fold like that."

Silence. Seo-jin offered no reply, her gaze fixed on something beyond the wall. So Eun-sol continued, her tone shifting slightly. "Soo-hyun was digging at you at dinner. He’s funny, but doesn’t know when to stop."

"No," Seo-jin whispered, the single word a soft denial.

Eun-sol gently moved from her bed to sit on the very edge of Seo-jin’s. "Who were you... to him, I mean?" she asked quietly, her gaze direct and searching.

Seo-jin didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed open, still fixed somewhere beyond the wall, lost in the depths of her own unspoken history. Then.

"I didn't think I was anything to him."

Eun-sol was quick to answer.

"Oh. I think you were." She paused, her gaze never wandering from Seo-jin's face. "I think you might have been everything to him."

Seo-jin darted her eyes back to Eun-sol. But said nothing.