CHAPTER 32
Half an hour later, they sat across from each other beside the café window. During the drive, Chung-Hee had spoken as though their argument were over, and Noeul had allowed him. Now, with coffee between them, the afternoon felt almost normal.
“So... you hate movies?”
Chung-Hee laughed, stirring his Americano even though he had stopped adding sugar several minutes ago. The spoon scraped lightly against the rim.
“I don’t hate them,” he said. “I just think they demand too much time. Two hours for a story that might not interest me at all feels like a waste.”
Noeul’s smile deepened.
“But how do you know if it’s worth it if you don’t finish it?”
Chung-Hee shifted in his seat and rested both hands on the table.
“The same could be said about people,” he replied quietly. “You can’t always know whether they’re worth the investment of your time.”
Noeul looked at him.
The air between them changed. Only slightly. But enough.
Nearby, a group of teenagers laughed loudly, talking over one another about where they planned to go next.
Noeul glanced toward them before looking back at Chung-Hee.
“And yet, here we are,” he said softly. “Or are you implying that I’m worth your time?”
There was warmth in his voice now. A gentle challenge.
Chung-Hee’s lips trembled into something close to a smile.
“For me,” he said quietly, “it simply has to be you.”
Chung-Hee’s gaze remained on Noeul’s face a second longer than necessary, studying him as though trying to memorize something. Noeul felt his pulse quicken. There is no love between us. The thought came automatically. Yet he was still smiling.
“Is that the only way to make you happy?” he asked. The playfulness disappeared from his voice.
Chung-Hee watched him carefully, and Noeul suddenly wished he hadn’t asked. The words from the car returned to him. You still haven’t asked me what would make me happy. His fingers tightened around the cup.
Chung-Hee leaned back slightly. “Would the answer frighten you?”
Noeul’s stomach tightened. “Maybe.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Chung-Hee laughed softly. Not mockingly. Almost sadly. Noeul cleared his throat and looked toward the window.
“So… what do you do when you’re not working, not training, or avoiding movies?”
Chung-Hee smiled at the obvious change of subject. “I enjoy chess.”
“Chess?”
“The strategy. The intuition it demands. Every match is a puzzle, but the pieces keep changing depending on the person sitting across from you.”
Noeul tilted his head. “You make chess sound much more dramatic than it is.”
“It is dramatic.”
Noeul laughed softly. “I suppose Haneul inherited his love for chess from you.” The words escaped before he had time to reconsider them.
Chung-Hee lowered his gaze to his coffee, his fingers tightening slightly around the cup. “I suppose that’s true.”
Noeul immediately regretted bringing Haneul into the conversation.
“We used to play whenever I had time,” Chung-Hee continued after a moment. “When he was younger, he hated losing.”
Noeul’s lips curved faintly. “That sounds like him.”
“He’d accuse me of cheating.” A quiet laugh escaped Chung-Hee. “He knew perfectly well I wasn’t.”
Noeul smiled. For a few seconds, the memory of Haneul sat between them without hurting quite as much.
“He used to get annoyed with me when I took too long to make a decision,” Noeul said. “He’d say I overthought everything.”
Chung-Hee looked up. “He was right.”
Noeul frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You overthink everything.”
Noeul gave him an offended look. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
A small laugh escaped Noeul before he could stop it. For the first time since getting into Chung-Hee’s car, the sound felt natural. Chung-Hee stared at him.
Noeul noticed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I am.”
That answer made Noeul look away. His cheeks warmed. There is no love between us. He took another sip of his latte. The thought felt less convincing this time. After a moment, he looked back at Chung-Hee.
“Would you play with me sometime?”
Chung-Hee blinked.
“Chess,” Noeul clarified quickly. “I mean chess.”
The corner of Chung-Hee’s mouth lifted. “I assumed so.”
Noeul rolled his eyes. “I’m probably not as good as you,” he continued, “but it could be fun.”
Chung-Hee’s expression softened. “Yes,” he said after a pause. “I think I’d enjoy that.”
Noeul glanced out at the snow-covered city again. When he turned back, Chung-Hee was still watching him. Not with the anger from the car. Not with the cruelty from the cemetery. Something quieter. Something Noeul wasn’t sure he wanted to name.
“Maybe… next time?” Chung-Hee asked.
There was an uncertainty in his voice that Noeul had never heard before. Noeul’s heart gave a small, hopeful beat.
“Yes,” he said, smiling as he lifted his latte. “Next time.”
For a brief moment, relief loosened something inside Noeul. Light. Fragile. And dangerous enough that he was afraid to trust it.