DP Side Story Episode 8
by BrieDeep Pivot Side Story, Episode 8
“Jeong-woo.”
While Yeon-woo was talking to Dr. Yoon about Jeong-woo’s test results, Seo-joon gently asked as he picked Jeong-woo up with one arm.
“Aren’t you scared sleeping alone in the hospital room?”
“It was a little scary at first, but now it’s not, because the doctors come by often.”
“It’d be nice if the three of us lived together, right?”
“They said once I get all better, we can live together.”
“…If you get your own room, what’s the first thing you want to have in it?”
Jeong-woo smiled bashfully. A small new front tooth was peeking out where one had recently fallen.
“A bunk bed.”
“A bunk bed? Just for you?”
“I want to use the top bunk and give the bottom bunk to a puppy.”
“You want to have a puppy?”
Seo-joon chuckled and gently brushed his soft cheek. He looked much healthier now, having gained a bit of weight. Soon after, Yeon-woo returned and took Jeong-woo into his arms.
“A white puppy.”
“A puppy?”
Not knowing what conversation she had just walked into, Yeon-woo gave a puzzled look at the sudden talk of puppies. Jeong-woo just replied with a little hum, A white puppy is cute, and leaned his cheek against her shoulder.
Still smiling, Seo-joon picked up Jeong-woo’s breathing monitor cord and followed beside them. The low-setting sun cast a crimson glow through the center’s hallway.
“Lieutenant, should we eat out tonight? This place is supposed to be really good.”
Back at home, Yeon-woo looked up from her phone and held the screen out to Seo-joon. Evening had already fallen, and a violet darkness draped across the sky.
Seo-joon nodded without hesitation, scanning the restaurant post she showed him. Yeon-woo’s focused side profile as she read the screen caught his gaze. Suddenly, he remembered something Song-hee had said earlier that day.
What would it feel like to hear Cha Yeon-woo call him something other than “Lieutenant”? No matter what she called him, it would be adorable… unbearably cute, probably.
“……”
Perhaps sensing his stare, Yeon-woo looked up and met his eyes. Without a word, she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before turning back to her phone. At this point, it seemed like every time their eyes met, a kiss automatically followed.
After a pause, Seo-joon carefully opened his mouth.
“Yeon-woo… how long are you going to keep calling me ‘Lieutenant’?”
“Hmm?”
Yeon-woo looked up, slightly surprised. Seo-joon leaned against the back of the couch and turned to face her.
“I’m retired now. So technically, I’m not a lieutenant anymore.”
“…Ah.”
Yeon-woo placed her phone facedown on the table and turned toward him properly. With a serious look, she spoke up.
“I’ve actually thought about that…”
Of course she had. There was no way Cha Yeon-woo hadn’t considered this. From the moment Ji Seo-joon retired, she had probably thought about it dozens—no, hundreds—of times.
“But I still haven’t found a suitable title.”
Is that something to think about for that long? Pet names between couples were more or less the same. It wasn’t like there were infinite options. Seo-joon chuckled like it was no big deal.
“You could just call me by my name. Or… you know, ‘hyung’ works too.”
“…Hyung?”
Yeon-woo frowned, clearly disapproving.
“That’s kind of weird. Jeong-woo calls me hyung. We’re not siblings, so I don’t want to use that.”
But it would’ve been so cute if she did… Seo-joon, hiding his disappointment, nodded in understanding.
“Then what do you want to call me?”
“Hmm… we haven’t even had our wedding yet, so ‘honey’ feels a bit too soon… and ‘baby’…”
At that moment, Seo-joon tilted his head, doubting his ears like he’d just been struck by a sonic boom.
“…feels too bratty, so I don’t really like it.”
Yeon-woo continued, completely oblivious to his reaction, deep in thought.
“Hmm… I just haven’t found a respectful enough term.”
Seo-joon, calming his racing heart, replied gently.
“It doesn’t have to be formal. We’re dating, you know.”
“Still… I’ve always called you ‘Lieutenant’ from the start, so suddenly changing it feels awkward.”
“If you really want something formal, why not just go with ‘Master’ or something?”
The petty, impulsive suggestion slipped out, fueled by a flash of nerves. But Seo-joon didn’t bother taking it back. Compared to Master, ‘baby’ sounded pretty tame.
Turning his head, Seo-joon tried to play it off.
“……”
In the sudden silence, he found himself hoping to hear something like, ‘baby’ actually sounds best’. But then—unexpectedly—Yeon-woo nodded slowly.
“…I think it could work.”
“…What?”
Seo-joon whipped his head around to look at her. Yeon-woo, wearing a completely serious expression, nodded again and spoke with utmost sincerity.
“‘Master.’ I think it’s fine… It sounds kind of like ‘Lieutenant,’ so it doesn’t feel like a big mental shift.”
“…….”
Did I really just hear that? Mouth agape, Seo-joon was speechless.
“Y-You seriously feel no emotional resistance to calling me Master?”
There should be some. There has to be some. That thought practically slipped out as a reflex. But Yeon-woo showed no signs of joking.
“Listen. ‘Lieutenant.’ ‘Master.’ ‘Lieutenant.’ ‘Master.’ See? They’re similar. I think it’ll be easy to adjust.”
“…Excuse me?”
“The more I think about it, the better it sounds.”
Realizing just how out of hand this was getting, Seo-joon shook his head in desperation.
“No, no. Just because they start with the same syllables doesn’t make it okay—”
“Master.”
“……”
Master. Lieutenant. Master. Lieutenant. Master. Lieutenant…
Yeon-woo, with the most earnest face imaginable, muttered both words back and forth like a person possessed. Toward the end, it didn’t even sound like either—more like “Lieunster” or some bizarre hybrid ringing in Seo-joon’s ears.
Her blue eyes glinted ominously as she stared at him. Terrified she might actually start calling him that, Seo-joon hastily objected.
“That’s weird, Yeon-woo. I seriously don’t think I could ever get used to it. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”
“Not like you’d be able to tell the difference anyway.”
“…What?”
Yeon-woo suddenly flushed red and gave a shy little smile. She looked so sly, Seo-joon wondered if a nine-tailed fox had just possessed her.
“Let’s go already, Lieutenant. I’m hungry.”
As she stood, Seo-joon quickly grabbed her hand and followed, growing increasingly anxious.
“You did say ‘Lieutenant’ just now, right?”
“……”
“You did, right? Yeon-woo?”
Pretty sure she just called me Master back there… Maybe my hearing’s broken from the shock of it all.
Yeon-woo, grabbing the car keys and heading to the front door, suddenly spun around. Seo-joon, who’d been trailing her and pressing for answers, stopped in his tracks. Her face broke into an innocent smile.
“What do you think I called you?”
“…Huh?”
“Guess.”
Seo-joon froze in place. His cheeky partner wore the smuggest, most adorable grin. After casually dropping a verbal nuke, she calmly slipped on her shoes.
“Lieutenant, come on.”
She’d even turned his shoes around to make them easier to step into. Wait, didn’t she just call me “Master” again? The echo of that cursed word rang in Seo-joon’s ears like a hallucination.
“…Yeon-woo. That kind of nickname is only okay at home. As a joke. Once or twice. Not in public. Ever. Seriously, it’s not funny.”
Half pleading, half exasperated, Seo-joon desperately tried to reason with her. Eventually, Yeon-woo burst into laughter, wrapped an arm around his waist, and opened the front door.
“Do I look like someone that tactless to you? Don’t worry, Lieutenant.”
Ding. The elevator numbers began to rise.
“You really did say ‘Lieutenant’ just now, right?”
He kept asking, over and over, but Yeon-woo only smiled, never giving a clear answer. Growing flustered, Seo-joon declared firmly:
“Fine. I’ll just be your ‘Lieutenant’ forever.”
Ding. The elevator doors opened. The two tall men stepped in, and the lift began to descend again. Watching the numbers go down, Yeon-woo chuckled quietly to himself after a while.
“You’re such a weird person, Lieutenant.”
Master is such an idiot.
Seo-joon opened his eyes in the darkness. That ridiculous title debate from a few days ago must’ve left quite the mark, because even in his dreams, that cursed word Master had followed him.
“……”
Without moving, he shifted his eyes around, letting out a slow, steady breath as he checked on the sleeping Yeon-woo beside him. It took him quite a while to carefully move the heavy arm draped over his chest.
Moving with the caution of an undercover agent, Seo-joon finally managed to slip out of the bedroom without waking her. Alone now, he drank some water and looked around the house, cloaked in night.
Suddenly, something Hee-min had told him came to mind—and no matter how hard he tried, it stirred his heart.