LS Ch 16

As Yiwon’s expression seemed to turn cold for some reason, Jewoo simply stared at him, not feeling that he had given the wrong answer. After a long pause, he heard a deep sigh.

“Well, for now, that’s fine.”

Jewoo wasn’t sure what was “fine,” but Yiwon’s previously tense expression visibly softened.

“But are you really okay with it?”

Jewoo thought that talking to this guy felt unusually difficult today. He just couldn’t follow Yiwon’s words. There were too many sentences missing subjects and objects.

“With what?”

“With me getting caught up in scandals with other people.”

The conversation was bouncing all over the place. He had been complaining about the manager, and now they were back to talking about Kim Arin.

“It’s not that I don’t care at all.”

At Jewoo’s response, one of Yiwon’s eyebrows arched.

“I told you earlier, at least until the drama is released, try to be careful.”

As soon as he added that, he saw Yiwon let out another quiet sigh.

“Not just that.”

If not that, then what else?

“I mean, outside of the drama—does it really not matter to you whether Kang Yiwon dates someone else or not?”

Jewoo narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head.

“Well…”

He swallowed back the words, That’s not really my business. He hesitated, wondering how he should respond. Judging from the flow of their conversation, Yiwon seemed convinced that he and Jewoo were in some kind of relationship. Even if it was just for show, he seemed intent on staying faithful for the time being. That would explain why he had been bothered about Jewoo being too close to his manager.

Should he just go along with it? As a boyfriend…? If they were actually dating, of course, he wouldn’t be indifferent. To be honest, the whole thing had been on his mind all day. He even felt a slight sense of crisis, wondering if this fake relationship was pulling in his real emotions. It made him want to draw a clear line.

Should he fully immerse himself in ‘Haeyul’ and commit to these romantic emotions? Or should he keep some distance now for the sake of later?

Was this what it was like to film a romance drama? Jewoo had never played a role where he had to deeply engage in emotions like this, so he had no idea what the right answer was.

But what if drawing a line disrupted Yiwon’s immersion in the role? As his co-star, he couldn’t ignore that concern either.

Perhaps because he didn’t answer right away, Yiwon suddenly closed the distance between them. Jewoo naturally lifted his head to follow his movement, but then Yiwon placed both hands on his shoulders.

“I care.”

“…Huh?”

Yiwon’s grip tightened, and before Jewoo could react, he was pushed backward toward the bed. Caught off guard, he let himself be moved, ending up sitting on the edge of the mattress. Yiwon, still holding his shoulders, leaned in closer. Instinctively, Jewoo tried to pull back, bracing his elbows against the mattress, ending up half-lying down.

“I don’t like it when you get too close to other people.”

Yiwon’s face was so serious that it erased any chance of dismissing his words as a joke. He looked so earnest that Jewoo momentarily forgot how childish his demand sounded.

“…Are you a kid?”

Jewoo raised his arm, pressing his forearm against Yiwon to push him away and sit up. But Yiwon suddenly applied more pressure to his shoulders, throwing him off balance and causing him to collapse fully onto the bed.

Looking up, he found Yiwon’s face barely a hand’s width away.

No matter who it was, being this close to someone’s face was bound to be overwhelming. And with a face as perfectly sculpted as Yiwon’s, the impact was even stronger.

Jewoo’s mouth felt strangely dry. But if he swallowed now, his throat would move, and Yiwon would notice. He didn’t want to give away his nervousness.

“…Fine. I get it.”

Using both hands, he pushed against Yiwon’s chest and slipped out from beneath him.

“Why are you taking this so seriously?”

Sitting up on the bed, he tried to keep his tone light.

“I already told you—I’ll be careful until the drama ends.”

Yet, for some reason, Yiwon’s expression darkened again. He stared intently at Jewoo, as if trying to bore a hole through him, his chest rising and falling as he quietly steadied his breath.

But in the end, he didn’t say anything else.

As Yiwon brushed back his fallen bangs and turned his head, he paused upon seeing the assortment of energy drinks and supplements spread across the table.  

“Are you sick?”  

“It’s just for recovery. My manager left them here. He came by to drop those off.”  

Although Jewoo had explained that it was his cousin, he added the extra detail in advance—otherwise, Yiwon would probably ask why a manager had visited so late at night.  

“I cried a lot during filming today, so I felt completely drained. He told me to take these, recover, and do my best again tomorrow.”  

Why was he even explaining all this to Yiwon? The situation had reversed from earlier. Either way, Jewoo didn’t want to see Kang Yiwon frown, nor did he want to waste energy arguing with him.  

“You filmed a crying scene?”  

“It wasn’t just crying—it was full-on sobbing. That’s what you’d call it, right?”  

“The scene where you hear about the emperor’s death?”  

Yiwon seemed to have guessed the scene and asked. Jewoo simply nodded.  

“I’m curious. I wish I could’ve seen it.”  

He sounded genuinely regretful.  

“Want to see it?”  

“You have it?”  

“I asked them to send me just that part earlier because something about it was bothering me.”  

Jewoo took out his phone and played the scene that the camera director had sent. For about three minutes, they both silently watched the screen. Unlike Jewoo, who frowned at his own acting, Yiwon held his breath, completely immersed.  

“Should I ask to reshoot it?”  

The moment the video ended, Jewoo mumbled. He wasn’t sure how others would see it, but he felt like his emotions were over-exaggerated. He wondered what Yiwon thought, but Yiwon was still staring at the frozen screen.  

“Don’t you think it was too much?”  

“Not sure…”  

His response felt absentminded. Yiwon’s focus seemed to be elsewhere.  

“More than that, what were you thinking while filming this scene?”  

As expected, Yiwon asked a different question.  

“Thinking? I wasn’t thinking anything. I just killed someone I cared about with my own hands. There’s no time for thoughts when your heart is breaking.”  

“Because ‘Geonhwon’ died?”  

“It’s more than just the fact that he died. I was the one who killed him. It’s not just sadness—it’s absolute devastation.”  

At Jewoo’s response, Yiwon remained silent for a long time. He seemed to be trying to understand what ‘Haeyul’ must have felt, so Jewoo left him alone.  

“If it wasn’t ‘Geonhwon’ but me, would you cry like that?”  

“What?”  

What kind of question was that? Why was Kang Yiwon suddenly talking about dying?  

“Wait, do you have some terminal illness or something?”  

His expression was too serious to brush off as a joke, so Jewoo ended up asking something equally ridiculous.  

“No. But if you had to kill me with your own hands, would you cry like ‘Haeyul’?”  

What kind of creepy question was that?  

“Why the hell would I kill you?”  

Jewoo shouted, completely taken aback, but Yiwon was still staring intently at the phone screen.  

Kang Yiwon… Was he getting too immersed in his role?  

Jewoo was concerned, but he couldn’t tell him to take it easy. After all, Yiwon’s deep immersion was undoubtedly beneficial for the drama.  

Was he the only one feeling this sense of confusion? That thought crossed his mind. Even if Yiwon was excessively absorbed in his character, once filming was over, he’d return to normal.  

Thinking that way, Jewoo felt—just a little, really just a little—disappointed.  

🎞️✮⋆˙  

The next day, Jewoo only woke up when Jiho knocked on his door.  

“You never sleep in. What’s up? Did Kang Yiwon stay late last night?”  

Jiho asked as they walked to the parking lot after getting ready. It was rare for Jewoo to wake up late, so Jiho found it unusual. Jewoo stretched widely, shaking off the lingering drowsiness, and shook his head.  

“He left before midnight.”  

Midnight wasn’t exactly early, but since Yiwon had arrived past 11 PM, he had stayed for less than an hour. To be precise, Jewoo had half-forced him to leave, saying he was too tired to stay up any longer.  

The problem was that even after sending him off, Jewoo couldn’t fall asleep right away. When he had first gotten back from filming, he thought he’d pass out the moment he lay down, but his mind wouldn’t stop spinning, and he ended up tossing and turning until past 3 AM.  

“But you still couldn’t sleep? Why? I even brought you recovery drinks to help you rest.”  

“Maybe they worked too well.”  

He answered vaguely and climbed into the back seat first, hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep on the way to the filming site.  

“Why did Kang Yiwon come over anyway? If he visited that late, was it something urgent?”  

Jiho was curious about why Yiwon had come.  

Good question. Why had he come?  

Now that he thought about it, Jewoo was curious too. All Yiwon had really done was make excuses about eating with Kim Ahrin, show some unnecessary jealousy over Jiho, and whine about not wanting Jewoo to get close to other people.  

“He asked me if I’d cry for him the way I cried for Geonhwon if he died.”  

Jiho let out a baffled “Huh?” at Jewoo’s response.  

When he asked what kind of random nonsense that was, Jewoo just shook his head, saying he didn’t know either.