The sun filtered through the glass panes of the conservatory, warming the air into a heavy, sweet-scented haze. It was too quiet, too perfect. I had only meant to rest my eyes for a second, tucked away in the soft curve of the hammock with my book. But the rhythmic silence of the library's hidden wing had pulled me under.
Step. Step. Step.
The sound of leather soles on the tiled floor snapped me awake. My heart did a frantic somersault against my ribs. I sat up abruptly, the hammock swaying dangerously, and my glasses nearly slid off the bridge of my nose.
Standing there, framed by the lush greenery and the soaring glass ceiling, was a man I didn't recognize. He was tall, dressed in a sharp black suit that seemed far too formal for a dusty library, and his eyes—a striking, unsettling shade of red—were fixed directly on me.
"...I-I fell asleep, didn't I?" I stammered, clutching my book to my chest like a shield. My face felt like it was on fire. "It was such a good place to read quietly that I just..."
"Is this somewhere anyone's not allowed to just walk into?" he asked. His voice was calm, but it carried an authority that made me want to shrink into the fabric of the hammock.
"It is private property, but..." He paused, a small, knowing glint in his eyes. "I think I forgot to lock the door."
I scrambled out of the hammock, my movements clumsy and panicked. I bowed so deeply I thought I might tip over. "Oh, I see...! I'm Lee Bidan, a library staff member. I won't come in again. I'm sorry!"
I was already preparing to bolt for the exit, my mind racing with the embarrassment of being caught trespassing on a professor's private sanctuary. But before I could take a step, he spoke again.
"I'm Shin Sajun, a professor of Korean literature," he said. The harshness I expected wasn't there. Instead, a soft, almost playful smile touched his lips. "...If you're only going to read books, it's fine for you to come in."
I froze, looking up at him. The sunlight caught the edge of his glasses, and for a moment, the intimidating professor looked surprisingly... kind.
The month of March arrived, and with it, a new chapter of my life in the city I had so desperately wanted to live in. Seoul at night was even more dazzling than I had imagined. To support myself while staying at Mr. Shin's house, I took a part-time job at a pub near S University. My shifts ran late, from 6:00 p.m. until 1:00 a.m..
With the start of the new semester, the pub was constantly crowded with students. I often watched the fresh freshmen, newly of age and exuberant, celebrating their first tastes of victory with large mugs of beer. By the time I finished work, I would be completely exhausted, staring blankly out the window on the long bus ride home.
The Encounter in the Conservatory
One afternoon, seeking a moment of peace, I found my way into a beautiful, sunlit conservatory filled with lush greenery. It was so quiet and secluded that I eventually climbed into a hammock to read my book. However, the warmth of the sun and the stillness of the air were too much, and I soon drifted off into a deep sleep.
I was startled awake by a voice calling out a name—"...Yeonwoo...?". My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring at a tall man in a dark suit watching me.
Panic surged through me. "...! I-I fell asleep, didn't I?" I stammered, sitting up quickly. I tried to explain myself as he stood there, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. "It was such a good place to read quietly that I just...".
"Is this somewhere anyone's not allowed to just walk into?" he asked calmly.
"It is private property, but... I think I forgot to lock the door," he added.
Realizing I was trespassing, I scrambled out of the hammock and bowed deeply. "Oh, I see...! I'm Lee Bidan, a library staff member. I won't come in again. I'm sorry!".
Just as I was about to rush out, he introduced himself. "I'm Shin Sajun, a professor of Korean literature...". A small, gentle smile appeared on his face as he looked at me. "...If you're only going to read books, it's fine for you to come in".
The air in the conservatory was thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. It was a glass sanctuary, a hidden world where the chaos of the university campus felt miles away. I had found it by accident, tucked behind the old stone walls of the library wing, and it was perfect. Too perfect.
I settled into the oversized canvas hammock, the fabric cocooning me as I opened my book. The gentle sway and the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the glass ceiling were like a sedative. Before I could finish a single chapter, my eyelids grew heavy, and I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Creak—
The sound of a heavy door opening snapped me back to reality. My eyes flew open, but for a moment, all I could see was the blur of green leaves and white light.
"...Yeonwoo...?"
A man's voice, low and questioning, drifted through the plants. My heart hammered against my ribs. I wasn't alone. Through the gap in the foliage, I saw him—a tall figure in a dark, sharp suit. He was looking toward me, his expression unreadable.
I scrambled to sit up, nearly tumbling out of the hammock in my haste. "…! I-I fell asleep, didn't I?" I stammered, my face heating up instantly. I clutched my book to my chest like a shield. "It was such a good place to read quietly that I just..."
The man stepped closer. He wore glasses that caught the light, and his gaze was intense, almost piercing. "Is this somewhere anyone's not allowed to just walk into?" he asked, his tone surprisingly calm.
"It is private property, but..." He tilted his head slightly, a small shadow of a smile playing on his lips. "I think I forgot to lock the door."
Guilt surged through me. I didn't just fall asleep; I had trespassed into someone's private office or study. I jumped to my feet and bowed so low I could see my own trembling knees.
"Oh, I see...! I'm Lee Bidan, a library staff member," I blurted out, desperate to show I wasn't a complete stranger. "I won't come in again. I'm sorry!"
I prepared to bolt for the exit, my embarrassment prickling like a rash. But his next words stopped me in my tracks.
"I'm Shin Sajun, a professor of Korean literature."
I looked up, meeting his eyes. The intimidating aura hadn't vanished, but it had softened. He let out a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
"...If you're only going to read books, it's fine for you to come in."
I blinked, stunned by his invitation. In that moment, the sunlight hitting the glass made the whole room shimmer, and I wondered if this strange, beautiful place—and the mysterious Professor Shin—were about to change everything for me.
The sun was warm—too warm. It filtered through the glass panes of the conservatory ceiling, casting a checkered pattern of light and shadow across the pages of my book. I hadn't meant to sleep; I had only intended to hide away for a moment in the lush, green silence of this place. But the hammock was soft, and the smell of damp earth and jasmine had lulled me into a heavy drowse.
Creak—
The sound of the heavy door opening echoed through the glass house. My eyes flew open. My vision was a blur of green leaves and white light. Through the foliage, I saw a tall, dark figure standing by the entrance.
"...Yeonwoo...?" his voice drifted over, low and thick with a strange sort of expectation.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I scrambled to sit up, nearly tumbling out of the swaying hammock. My glasses slipped down my nose as I tried to make sense of the man standing there. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, looking far too formal for a dusty greenhouse.
"…! I-I fell asleep, didn't I?" I stammered, my face burning with instant heat. I clutched my book to my chest like a shield. "It was such a good place to read quietly that I just..."
He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on me. Up close, his eyes were an unsettling, intense shade of red behind his glasses. He looked like someone who didn't often find strangers napping in his private spaces.
"Is this somewhere anyone's not allowed to just walk into?" he asked. His tone was calm, but it carried a weight that made me want to shrink.
"It is private property, but..." He paused, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "I think I forgot to lock the door."
Guilt surged through me. I shouldn't have been here. I practically jumped out of the hammock and bowed so low my forehead nearly hit my knees.
"Oh, I see...! I'm Lee Bidan, a library staff member," I blurted out, hoping my employee status would buy me some mercy. "I won't come in again. I'm sorry!"
I was ready to bolt, to run past him and never look back, but his next words caught me off guard.
"I'm Shin Sajun, a professor of Korean literature..."
I looked up, blinking. The intimidating aura hadn't vanished, but it had shifted. A soft, genuine smile spread across his face, transforming his sharp features.
"...If you're only going to read books, it's fine for you to come in."
I stood there, stunned into silence. He wasn't kicking me out; he was giving me a key to a secret world.
Step. Step. Step.
The sound of leather soles on the tiled floor snapped me awake. My heart did a frantic somersault against my ribs. I sat up abruptly, the hammock swaying dangerously, and my glasses nearly slid off the bridge of my nose.
Standing there, framed by the lush greenery and the soaring glass ceiling, was a man I didn't recognize. He was tall, dressed in a sharp black suit that seemed far too formal for a library, and his eyes—a striking, unsettling shade of red—were fixed directly on me.
"...I-I fell asleep, didn't I?" I stammered, clutching my book to my chest like a shield. My face felt like it was on fire. "It was such a good place to read quietly that I just..."
"Is this somewhere anyone's not allowed to just walk into?" he asked. His voice was calm, but it carried an authority that made me want to shrink into the fabric of the hammock.
"It is private property, but..." He paused, a small, knowing glint in his eyes. "I think I forgot to lock the door."
I scrambled out of the hammock, my movements clumsy and panicked. I bowed so deeply I thought I might tip over. "Oh, I see...! I'm Lee Bidan, a library staff member. I won't come in again. I'm sorry!"
I was already preparing to bolt for the exit, my mind racing with the embarrassment of being caught trespassing on a professor's private sanctuary. But before I could take a step, he spoke again.
"I'm Shin Sajun, a professor of Korean literature," he said. The harshness I expected wasn't there. Instead, a soft, almost playful smile touched his lips. "...If you're only going to read books, it's fine for you to come in."
I froze, looking up at him. The sunlight caught the edge of his glasses, and for a moment, the intimidating professor looked surprisingly... kind.
i had felt it for weeks—a weight in the air, a shadow just out of sight. I'd only ever sensed it as a flickering presence, a ghost haunting the periphery of my life. But the moment that presence finally manifested, appearing right in front of me in the flesh, my heart swelled in a strange, suffocating way.
It wasn't just shock. It was an overwhelming sense of insignificance. Standing there, looking at him, it felt less like meeting a person and more like facing a god.
The Get-Together
The bar was noisy, filled with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of "Sikkol" chatter. I moved through the tables, my apron heavy, carrying a tray of frothing beers.
"Oh, Professor Shin!" a voice boomed from a nearby table. "What brings you to a place like this for a get-together? You barely even drink..."
I paused, my eyes drifting toward the man in the sharp navy suit. Professor Shin. He sat there, composed and elegant, his glasses catching the dim light of the pub. His colleagues leaned in, their faces flushed with alcohol and curiosity.
"Seriously," another laughed, "maybe the food here is just that good? Or maybe you took a liking to one of the part-timers here?"
The Devoted Husband
The older man at the table, perhaps a senior faculty member, gave the Professor a playful pat on the shoulder. "Hey now, you think Professor Shin is that shallow? This guy's a devoted husband. You all know how good he is to Yeonwoo."
A heavy silence settled over me at the mention of her name. Yeonwoo.
"Come to think of it," the younger colleague asked, his tone shifting to genuine concern, "how is Senior Yeonwoo these days? I haven't seen her face in ages. I only heard she wasn't feeling well... it's nothing serious, right?"
Professor Shin's expression didn't waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that didn't match his polite nod. "Yeah," the senior added wistfully, "she used to be so lively before. Let's meet her sometime. Everyone's worried about her."
"Yes," the Professor replied, his voice smooth and devoid of warmth. "I'll pass it along."
The Departure
He stood up, adjusting his jacket. The "god" was leaving the mortal realm of the pub.
"Then everyone, drink to your heart's content today!" he said, though he didn't join in the cheer. "I brought my car, so I'll pass, haha."
As he walked past me, the air seemed to chill. I stood there with my tray of beer, a mere part-timer in a crowded room, watching the back of the "devoted husband" vanish into the night.
had only ever sensed him as a presence, a weight in the air that felt like a shadow. But the moment he actually appeared right in front of me, everything changed. My heart swelled in a strange, suffocating way, as if I were meeting a ghost. Looking at him, it didn't feel like I was looking at a man; it felt like facing a god.
The Get-Together
The noise of the pub was a dull roar of "Sikkol" chatter and clinking glasses. I worked through the crowd, my hands steady as I carried a tray of drinks.
At a central table, a group of men were gathered. "Oh, Professor Shin, what brings you to a place like this for a get-together?" one of them called out. "You barely even drink...".
I watched him from the corner of my eye. He sat there, composed and untouchable.
"Seriously," another colleague laughed, "maybe the food here is pretty good? Or maybe you took a liking to one of the part-timers here?".
The older man at the table gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Hey now, you think Professor Shin is that shallow? This guy's a devoted husband. You all know how good he is to Yeonwoo".
The Slip
The mention of Yeonwoo's name made the atmosphere shift. "Come to think of it, how is Senior Yeonwoo these days?" a younger man asked. "I haven't seen her face in ages. I only heard she wasn't feeling well... it's nothing serious, right?".
"Yeah," the senior added, "she used to be so lively before. Let's meet her sometime. Everyone's worried about her".
Professor Shin's response was clipped and cold. "...Yes. I'll pass it along". He stood to leave, claiming he had his car and needed to pass on the drinking.
As he moved, I stepped forward to serve the table. "I'll bring your drinks first," I said, reaching out.
But my focus was fractured. My hand slipped.
"!!!"
The glass tipped, water spilling toward him. Before I could even gasp, his hand shot out with terrifying speed, catching the glass mid-air.
"Oh~ Professor Shin, nice reflexes!" someone cheered.
He didn't look at them. He held the glass, his fingers brushing against mine. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"S-sorry..." I stammered, my heart racing as I pulled away. I turned and hurried toward the back of the pub, my mind screaming at me. Ha... why did I make such a mistake?.
For a long time, he had been nothing more than a shadow in the back of my mind—a cold, sharp energy I could sense but never see. But the moment he materialized, stepping out of the peripheral darkness and appearing right in front of me, my world tilted.
My heart swelled in a strange, suffocating way. It was a terrifying sensation, like meeting a ghost.
I looked up at him, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. He stood there with a terrifyingly calm elegance, his eyes hidden behind glass, his presence so overwhelming that it felt like facing a god.
The Observation
The pub was alive with the sound of "Sikkol" chatter and the clink of mugs, but I felt like I was moving through water. I stood by with my apron on, clutching a tray, as the men at the table began their interrogation.
"Oh, Professor Shin!" one of them exclaimed, his voice booming over the noise. "What brings you to a place like this for a get-together? You barely even drink..."
I didn't move. I couldn't. I just watched him.
"Seriously," another laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe the food here is pretty good? Or maybe you took a liking to one of the part-timers here?"
The air in my lungs felt thin. I adjusted my grip on the tray, my eyes locked on the back of his dark suit.
The Devoted Mask
A senior professor at the table chimed in, dismissive of the jokes. "Hey now, you think Professor Shin is that shallow? This guy's a devoted husband. You know how good he is to Yeonwoo."
At the mention of her name, the mood at the table shifted toward a somber curiosity.
"Come to think of it, how is senior Yeonwoo these days?" the younger man asked, looking genuinely concerned. "I haven't seen her face in ages. I only heard she wasn't feeling well... it's nothing serious, right?"
I watched the Professor's profile. He remained a statue of politeness, though his eyes remained unreadable.
"Yeah," the senior added, "she used to be so lively before. Let's meet her sometime. Everyone's worried about her."
He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just let out a breath that sounded almost like a sigh. "...Yes. I'll pass it along."
The Parting
He pushed back his chair, the movement graceful and final. "Then everyone, drink to your heart's content today! I brought my car, so I'll pass, haha."
The table erupted into lighthearted complaints. "Hey~ how can you be like that~" "That's cheap~"
I stepped forward then, my hands trembling slightly as I set the fresh mugs of beer down on their table. My gaze flickered to him one last time as he prepared to leave. He was the perfect husband, the perfect professor, the perfect man. But to me, he was the ghost that had finally decided to haunt me in the light.
For a long time, he had been nothing more than a shadow in the back of my mind—a cold, sharp energy I could sense but never see. But the moment he materialized, stepping out of the peripheral darkness and appearing right in front of me, my world tilted.
My heart swelled in a strange, suffocating way. It was a terrifying sensation, like meeting a ghost.
I looked up at him, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. He stood there with a terrifyingly calm elegance, his eyes hidden behind glass, his presence so overwhelming that it felt like facing a god.
The Observation
The pub was alive with the sound of chatter and the clink of mugs, but I felt like I was moving through water. I stood by with my apron on, clutching a tray, as the men at the table began their interrogation.
"Oh, Professor Shin!" one of them exclaimed, his voice booming over the noise. "What brings you to a place like this for a get-together? You barely even drink..."
I didn't move. I couldn't. I just watched him, my breath hitching as I waited for him to speak.
"Seriously," another colleague laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe the food here is pretty good? Or maybe you took a liking to one of the part-timers here?"
The air in my lungs felt thin. I adjusted my grip on the tray, my eyes locked on the sharp line of his shoulders.
The Devoted Mask
A senior professor at the table chimed in, dismissive of the jokes. "Hey now, you think Professor Shin is that shallow like you? This guy's a devoted husband. You know how good he is to Yeonwoo."
At the mention of her name, the mood at the table shifted toward a somber curiosity.
"Come to think of it, how is senior Yeonwoo these days?" the younger man asked, looking genuinely concerned. "I haven't seen her face in ages. I only heard she wasn't feeling well... it's nothing serious, right?"
I watched the Professor's profile. He remained a statue of politeness, though his eyes remained unreadable behind his spectacles.
"Yeah," the senior added, "she used to be so lively before. Let's meet her sometime. Everyone's worried about her."
He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just let out a breath that sounded almost like a sigh. "...Yes. I'll pass it along."
The Departure
He pushed back his chair, the movement graceful and final. "Then everyone, drink to your heart's content today! I brought my car, so I'll pass, haha."
The table erupted into lighthearted complaints. "Hey~ how can you be like that~" "That's cheap~"
I stepped forward then, my hands trembling slightly as I set the fresh mugs of beer down on their table. My gaze flickered to him one last time as he prepared to leave. To them, he was the perfect colleague and the devoted husband. But to me, he was the ghost that had finally decided to haunt me in the light.
The Invisible Thread
The city lights blurred into soft, glowing orbs of bokeh behind him, but my focus remained locked on his silhouette. For a long time, I had felt myself disappearing—a slow, quiet evaporation of my own existence. I wondered if I was simply fading more and more, little by little, until there would be nothing left for the world to see.
"Let's go back together," he said.
The words were simple, yet they hit with the weight of an anchor. I looked at him, searching his face. In any other version of reality, he and I would have had no reason to ever cross paths. Our worlds were parallel lines that should never have touched.
"...Were you waiting for me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper against the cool night air.
"Not for very long," he replied.
I knew he was lying. He was good at it—effortlessly so. He admitted as much moments later, a small, sheepish smile playing on his lips as we began to walk. "Actually, that thing about bringing a car was a lie. Let's take the bus back."
"You're pretty good at lying..." I murmured.
"Haha..."
His soft laughter drifted between us. It was an uncomfortable feeling, this sudden proximity, this intrusion into my isolation. And yet, beneath the discomfort, I felt a spark of something I hadn't felt in years. I felt a bit cozy.
As we walked side by side toward the bus stop, a strange realization settled in my chest. It was the feeling that a thin thread, invisible to others, was entangled between us. It wasn't a heavy chain or a demanding bond; it was delicate, fragile, and impossible to ignore.
It made my heart sway. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't just fading away. I was tethered.
Analysis of the Scene
This sequence highlights a few classic "Slow Burn" romance tropes that make for great storytelling:
* The "Invisible String": The narrator feels a fated connection despite their different social standings or lives.
* The "Comforting Lie": The male lead lies about having a car just to spend more time walking with the protagonist, showing his hidden affection.
* Healing through Connection: The narrator's feeling of "fading" is countered by the "coziness" of being seen by someone else.