Love - Chapter 3 Part 1

The savory aroma of doenjang jjigae bubbled enticingly in the pot. Eunhye stirred the spicy gochujang-marinated pork once more with a wooden spatula and checked her phone.

“Why isn’t he here yet?”

Her brother, Jungwoo, had texted her 20 minutes ago saying he’d arrived at the subway station. At his walking pace, he should’ve been home by now. Just as she was about to call him, the front door finally opened.

“I’m home.”

Eunhye peeked out from the kitchen, her face lighting up.

“Oppa! What took you so long?”

A tall man—so tall he made their already-low ceiling seem even shorter—walked in with a faint smile.

“What’s that? Ice cream?”

Eunhye’s voice rose as she took the bag from his hand.

“Were you late because you went to buy this? You should’ve just come straight home. You must be exhausted.”

“Thought you might be craving something sweet.”

“Ah…”

Did brothers like this really exist? The kind who remembered their little sister’s pre-period sweet tooth without her even saying a word? It was like magic, how he could make even the most annoying part of her month feel a little less frustrating. Though sometimes, it was also a little embarrassing.

“How do you even remember this stuff? I forget my own cycle half the time. Do you, like, mark it on a calendar or something?”

“Yeah. Otherwise, I’d forget.”

Coming from Jungwoo, even a joke sounded dead serious. His deep voice held no trace of awkwardness—if anything, it was Eunhye whose face flushed red.

“I’ll wash up first.”

As Jungwoo turned to leave, Eunhye called after him.

“Eat first! Dinner’s ready!”

“Can’t. I’m covered in dust.”

“But the food’ll get cold—”

“Better than listening to you cough all day.”

He cut her off effortlessly. No one was more sensitive about her health than Jungwoo—Eunhye knew that better than anyone. Before he could launch into another lecture, she shooed him off to shower.

As he walked toward the bathroom, a towel draped over his neck, their eyes met. “What?” he asked simply.

Eunhye grinned and shook her head.

“Nothing. Just thinking… my oppa’s really got the whole ‘perfect guy’ hardware down, huh?”

Whether he knew just how breathtaking he was or not, Jungwoo let out a quiet chuckle before ducking through the doorway. The old bathroom door clicked shut behind him, followed by the sound of rushing water.

Eunhye turned the heat under the stew to its lowest setting and sat at the table. Jungwoo’s showers were always long—lately, even longer. No doubt he was being extra thorough to avoid bringing even a speck of dust near her sensitive lungs.

She exhaled deeply and glanced at the small framed photo on the wall. Adjusting it slightly, she studied the image—her high school graduation from last year. In it, she held a bouquet with an awkward expression, while Jungwoo stood beside her, cap pulled low over his face, smiling shyly. It never failed to make her laugh. This was one of the rare photos of him—he hated taking pictures.

“Thank you, Eunhye.”

That day, with the most tender expression she’d ever seen, he had handed her the bouquet and said:
“I’m so proud to have you as my sister.”

She had wanted to say the same back, but tears had welled up before she could get the words out. The photo captured her mid-laugh, eyes glistening. Jungwoo loved this picture so much he’d made it his phone wallpaper.

“You did all the hard work, and you’re thanking me?”

Eunhye whispered toward the closed bathroom door.

Their home—a two-room apartment in an old building awaiting reconstruction—was the first place Jungwoo had secured for them after years of struggle. It was a long walk from the subway station, up a steep hill, but to Eunhye, it was perfect.

The sound of water grew louder. No one knew how much he had suffered just to be able to shower like this—comfortably, without worry.

Back when they lived in a tiny goshiwon (boarding house) room, Jungwoo had taken her to a public bathhouse every other day. Their neighborhood—packed with one-room units—had only one filthy shared toilet for ten households. A place where people at rock bottom waited in line. Jungwoo had queued among them but never let Eunhye do the same.

He’d always looked at her with guilt when taking her to the bathhouse, even though she hadn’t minded at all—hanging onto his arm, sipping banana milk on the way back.

She only learned later that the money he gave her for snacks came from skipping his own meals. And that the reason they escaped that neighborhood in just three months—when half the residents stayed trapped for over a decade—was because he worked himself to the bone.

Click.

The bathroom door opened, pulling her from her thoughts. Jungwoo stepped out, towel-drying his hair. His nape was slightly flushed from the hot water.

“Oh, Oppa! Just a sec—I’ll plate the meat.”

“Take your time.”
Reaching over her, he effortlessly grabbed a plate from the cabinet. At 189 cm, he towered over her, forcing her to crane her neck just to look at him. His build—lean but powerful—was more suited to kickboxing than boxing, as his gym trainer once said.

“…This isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“I grew up trying so hard to catch up to you, but you just got even taller!”

“You’re plenty tall.”

His hand rested on her head briefly before he set the table, and Eunhye smiled.

Some things never changed—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jungwoo let out a soft chuckle and, out of habit, brushed her bangs aside with his fingers. The motion brought her face close to his torso, where she could see every defined muscle shifting beneath his skin. His upper body looked like it had been sculpted from smooth clay—carved with precision, shadows and highlights accentuated by the way light fell on him. A faint, pleasant soap scent lingered on his skin.

“You smell really good.”

“…Huh?”

Had she said that out loud? Startled, Eunhye blinked rapidly. Jungwoo frowned slightly, then murmured,

“The food smells amazing.”

Thankfully, he was talking about the meal. But Eunhye couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. His damp hair, slightly covering his forehead, looked alive strand by strand. How was it fair for someone to look this good without even trying?

“What’re you thinking?”

Jungwoo pulled his T-shirt on and glanced down at her. Eunhye shook her head quickly, snapping out of her daze.

“Nothing! Aren’t you hungry? Sit down.”

“I’ll serve the rice.”

“No way. You worked all day—you’re not working at home too.”

“You studied all day.”

“And skipped some of it.”

She scooped steaming rice into a bowl, shaping it neatly. The table was filled with all of Jungwoo’s favorite dishes.

“How is it?”

“The best.”

After tasting the stew broth, Jungwoo gave his short but powerful review and immediately dug in. Watching his bowl empty at record speed, Eunhye chattered excitedly.

“Right? It’s amazing. Wow, what did you do in a past life to get a sister like me? Good at studying, good at cooking, good to you. Right? My friends all act like their brothers are sworn enemies.”

Jungwoo only smiled faintly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“Hey, why are you smiling? What’s that look for?”

“Nothing. You’re right about everything.”

The way he chewed so neatly, then lifted his thick eyebrows—he looked like someone who’d stepped out of a painting. Strangers often said they looked alike. The neighbors, the security guard—everyone said it. But Eunhye could never agree. To her, Jungwoo was unrealistically perfect.

“You’re the best to me.”

Her forehead grew warm at his sudden sincerity. She cleared her throat.

“Ugh, how am I supposed to respond to that? You’re too serious.”

When he laughed softly, she smiled back. Just another ordinary evening. A simple, happy family dinner.

“Oppa, what are we doing the day after tomorrow?”

As soon as Jungwoo finished washing the dishes, Eunhye sprang the question on him.

“The day after tomorrow? Why?”
Eunhye blinked rapidly. The excitement in her eyes dimmed, replaced by disappointment she tried to hide. Jungwoo bit back a smile, chewing his lip.

“You’ve been working so hard you forgot the date, huh? Today’s May 29th. The day after tomorrow is the last day of the month.”

“Yeah, I know. June’s already here. Time flies.”

“Stop teasing me. I’m seriously about to get mad.”

Her pretty face flushed bright red. Finally, Jungwoo burst into laughter.

“Go check your closet.”

“What? Why?”

“Just go.”

He guided her forward with a hand on her shoulder, marching her to her room. Grumbling, she let him push her inside and opened her small closet. There, tucked in the corner, was a familiar branded box. Her voice trembled.

“…What’s this, Oppa?”

“Happy birthday, Eunhye. You’re officially an adult now. Twenty-one.”

When had he even put this here? Staring at him, she stumbled over her words.

“I—I don’t need two computers!”
“I just wanted to get it for you. I’ve been neglecting you too much as a college student.”

The old desktop on her desk—the one he’d scoured the secondhand market for three years ago—suddenly felt outdated. She bit her lip, remembering something from a few days ago.

On their way back from the market, they’d passed a café where college students were hunched over laptops. Jungwoo had watched them thoughtfully.

“What do they all do on those?”

“Huh? Assignments, studying—everything.”

She’d answered without thinking. That must’ve been the trigger.

“It’s the most popular model among students, apparently.”

Just weeks ago, he’d threatened their landlord not to raise the rent—or else he’d move in himself. And here he was, secretly preparing a birthday gift. She felt stupid for doubting him.

Swallowing hard, she forced a calm smile.

“But… I don’t need something this expensive.”

Jungwoo stared at her, blinking silently. She rushed on.

“There are way cheaper options. Oppa, let’s return this and get something else, okay?”

“Can’t return it. Paid in cash, threw away the receipt.”

His low voice made her wave her hands dismissively.

“It’s fine! Consumer laws exist for a reason. I’ll handle it.”

“Eunhye.”

“Where’d you buy it? I’ll call the store right now—”

“Lee Eunhye.”

The moment he used her full name, she fell silent. When Jungwoo spoke like this, there was no arguing. He only got like this when he was angry.

“Look at me. Don’t avoid my eyes.”

When she kept her head bowed, he gently lifted her chin with two fingers. His sharp frown deepened as he held her wavering gaze.

Oh. He’s really mad.

His Adam’s apple bobbed before his perfectly symmetrical lips parted.

“Do you really think I’m the kind of person who can’t even do this much for you?”

His voice was icy. Eunhye couldn’t speak, only shaking her head weakly in his grip. When Jungwoo pinned her down like this, she had no defense.

Compared to their time at the orphanage, the last five years living together had solidified him as her protector. He’d become something enormous in her life.
“Open your mouth and answer.”

She hated that he still treated her like a child, but in his eyes, she probably still looked young. Knowing that he’d had to grow up faster than anyone—because of her—made her chest ache.

“No. You do everything for me.”

“I wanted to buy it for you. So I did.”

His deep, smooth voice turned firm at the edges.

“I want to give you the best. So why are you looking for cheaper options? Who told you to do that?”

“Give me the best cream you have.”

“Well… that depends on the purpose, sir.”

“Sir. The best cream for a girl’s hands.”

That winter, when she was sixteen—the day they’d left the orphanage on a whim. Right before they’d checked into a shabby motel. Jungwoo had clutched her chapped, red hands and demanded nothing but the best.

“…Why do you make it so hard for me?”

Her heart raced as she met his darkened eyes. Swallowing, she asked timidly,

“Oppa, are you really mad?”

He stared at her, then said quietly,

“You’ve never once seen me truly angry. Not yet.”

That was a lie. In the past five years, she’d been scolded by him more times than she could count—terrifying moments that left her in tears. If that wasn’t his anger, what was?

Her lips trembled before she finally spoke, her excuses tumbling out in a rush.

“I just… thought you forgot my birthday. Then suddenly there’s this gift, so I panicked.”

“I’d forget my own birthday before yours.”

Right. The man who remembered her menstrual cycle wouldn’t forget her birthday. It was ridiculous, but her eyes stung. Fighting back the lump in her throat, she smiled at him. And then, she gave him the words she knew he wanted to hear most.

“You don’t need to thank me. That’s not why I did this.”

“Then what do I do when I’m too grateful?”

“Just smile.”

“Actually… I love it, Oppa. I really wanted a laptop.”

“You should’ve said so sooner.”

His stern expression softened slightly.

“Yeah, I was just waiting for the right moment.”

Her smile widened as he cupped her cheek gently.

“I’ll study even harder now. That scholarship is mine again. Everyone else is doomed.”

“Don’t overdo it.”

His hand moved from her cheek to her hair, smoothing it back with a tenderness that made her want to cry.

“What’s ‘overdoing it’?”

His touch lingered, warm and familiar, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly in place.

Jungwoo’s even teeth showed a little more as he blinked innocently at her joke. His calloused fingers slowly parted the thin strands of her bangs. And now, he would touch the scar—with guilt-laden fingers, as if trying to erase it with his touch.

When the tip of his finger gently brushed the round scar on her forehead, Eunhye’s long lashes trembled faintly on their own.

“Pushing yourself to the limit.”

As he answered, his rough hand swept from the inner corner of her neatly shaped eyebrows outward, slow and deliberate.

“You’re… really good at that. Working to the limit, then working out to the limit.”

“Is that so?”

Did he know? That when she heard his low, murmuring laughter, it sometimes made her throat itch unbearably.

“Maybe.”

After counting every hair of her eyebrows, Jungwoo turned his hand over. The pronounced knuckles traced the curve of her cheekbone softly. Now, every place his hand touched tingled.

“Your hair… it’s gotten so long.”

Since they started living together, Eunhye had stopped cutting her hair short. There was no need. Because Jungwoo’s gaze was always on her. Because his entire existence revolved around taking responsibility for her.

“Why? Do you prefer short hair?”

She blurted it out, unable to resist wanting to look good for him. Jungwoo tapped her slightly parted lower lip with his thumb and whispered,

“You’re pretty no matter what.”

It could’ve just been the usual doting words of an overprotective brother. But her heart pounded painfully anyway, too fast and too loud to control.
In Jungwoo’s mind, she was probably still that immature little girl who used to throw tantrums. That’s why he could touch her face like this—bringing his unfairly handsome face so close, without a thought for how it might affect her.

“…Oppa.”

Just before Eunhye could let out a shaky sigh, Jungwoo withdrew his hand.

“Get some rest.”

His voice was rough. The slight crease between his brows and the vein bulging in his neck made her panic.

Had he noticed…?

His touch had been just as tender as when he used to cut gum out of her hair as a child. His attitude hadn’t changed at all. But had he somehow seen the shift in her?

Did he hear the shameless, frantic beating of her heart? As he turned away, coldly quick, Eunhye raised her voice.

“…Oppa!”

Before he could doubt her, she hurried after him, chattering nervously.

“Then the day after tomorrow, let’s grill meat! With all the windows open. Pork belly and soju—it’s been a while. How about it?”

Seeing his expression stiffen slightly, she pressed on.

“I’ve been an adult for a while now, you know?”