IDMPYU 13

Chapter 13 – The Process of Becoming Truly Mine

Clatter.

Jihyun flinched at the unexpectedly loud noise when she set down the snacks the housemaid had brought up. Her eyes instinctively turned toward Seungho.

But he didn’t react at all, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. His gaze remained fixed on the math problems he was working on.

It had been like that lately. Ever since the day she refused to accept the textbook he handed her, he mocked her about trying to preserve what little pride she had—and now, he treated her like she was invisible.

Thanks to that, Seungho’s gaze rarely drifted toward her anymore. He either read the books he needed to study or stared at the mounted butterflies.

It should’ve been a relief—something to celebrate—but now that the Seungho who used to constantly find fault with her had gone quiet, Jihyun found herself nervously glancing his way.

Seungho, who used to eagerly assign her errands the moment she arrived late by even five minutes, now did nothing. Not even his usual cold, indifferent gaze followed her anymore.

Knowing how temperamental he could be, Jihyun was constantly on edge, wondering when he’d snap again—but surprisingly, the silence lasted quite a while.

That wasn’t all. Seungho had even excluded her from their tutoring sessions, which had always left her flustered and confused.

When Manager Kim came upstairs with the tutor, Seungho tilted his chin slightly toward Jihyun. It meant: Get out.

“Um…”

She opened her mouth to ask if she had misunderstood, but his reaction confirmed that she hadn’t.

“Don’t get it? Class is starting. Get out.”

It was an unexpected dismissal with no warning. As she stood there blinking in confusion, Seungho added,

“Study on your own.”

“…What?”

“You’re slow. You wouldn’t understand the class anyway, so staying here would just be torture.”

She couldn’t argue—it wasn’t wrong—but it still stung to hear it out loud. As she turned to leave, Seungho waved his bandaged right hand in her direction.

“That doesn’t mean you can go back to school. My hand’s still not fully recovered.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not a complete idiot. You should be able to study the basics on your own.”

Jihyun frowned slightly, silently staring at Seungho as he muttered the insult just loud enough for her to hear.

Did he just call me dumb again?

For a moment, she thought he looked a little dejected—but she quickly dismissed the idea. The sharp glare from Manager Kim, telling her she was interrupting, made her hurry out.

“…So insignificant.”

Left alone, Seungho spun his pen with his left hand and muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What did you say, Seungho?”

The tutor, who had been helping him with his essay, asked. But Seungho didn’t respond—his left hand kept spinning the pen indifferently. Instead, he changed the subject.

“…Do you know how to preserve a butterfly?”

Is he bored with the lesson? the tutor thought.

It was a question Seungho would never usually ask. With a small chuckle, the teacher followed his gaze to a mounted Morpho butterfly, its emerald shimmer contrasted against black wings.

“Hm, how do you do it?”

“The first butterfly you catch is never soft. It’s too stiff to even spread its wings.”

“…”

“So you need to soften it first. You add a little moisture so its body and wings become pliable.”

As he tapped the table with his finger, it was clear from his tone and posture that Seungho had handled many butterflies before. He continued, his eyes still fixed on the specimen.

“It always takes time. If you rush, you’ll ruin the wings.”

Maybe I should mention his butterfly collection in his essay—it might help his grade, the tutor mused before smiling and setting down the draft.

“I didn’t know you liked butterflies that much.”

Seungho finally tore his gaze away from the butterfly and spoke slowly.

“…I like the process.”

“The process?”

“The process of fragile wings becoming soft, like they’re alive. I like that.”

His eyes sank deeper as he stared into space, lost in thought.

“That’s when it feels like it truly becomes mine.”

Jihyun slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize she had fallen asleep in the study in the mansion’s basement.

The air felt cold, and her body shivered slightly. As she rubbed her arms, a low voice rang softly in her ear.

“Was it that hard to just read the book?”

Startled by the voice she hadn’t noticed before falling asleep, she turned her head. Seungho was sitting beside her.

Still reading, without even glancing at her.

She had genuinely been trying to read—but somehow, she’d dozed off. The embarrassment of being caught made her cheeks burn.

“I just dozed off for a bit…”

“Liar.”

“It’s true…”

She muttered defensively, her voice small. She wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep, but she wanted to believe it was only for a moment.

Seungho finally looked up from his book and stared at her silently. Just as she was about to ask why he was looking at her like that, he beat her to it.

“Wipe your drool.”

“…Ah.”

Her face flushed as she quickly wiped her mouth with her fingers. Without a sound, the corners of Seungho’s lips twitched in amusement as he returned to his book.

Still rubbing her burning cheeks, Jihyun glanced at him.

Something was definitely different.

Just recently, he’d pushed her to the brink—now, he didn’t ask her to do anything. After pretending she didn’t exist, now he just quietly let her stay beside him.

A new kind of punishment? she wondered.

It made sense. Sitting quietly next to him was just as exhausting as running errands all day.

She turned her gaze back to the book she’d been reading before she nodded off—but her eyes involuntarily drifted back to Seungho.

Is his skin that pale because he doesn’t exercise and just stays underground reading all day?

Why does a boy have eyelashes that long? They cast shadows every time he blinks.

His lips must have really thin skin. You can see all the veins—no wonder they look red.

His pupils are as dark as his hair…

As Jihyun’s thoughts wandered while secretly observing Seungho, her breath caught in her throat. His black, bead-like eyes were no longer on his book—they were looking directly at her.

She wanted to say something, but shock had frozen her lips. Seungho didn’t say anything either. He just stared at her, without his usual mocking expression.

“Ahem.”

Jihyun broke the silence first, coughing awkwardly and burying her face back in her book.

She could still feel his gaze, but something told her she shouldn’t meet it again. So she didn’t look up.

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

Minwoo looked at Bora, then at the bouquet of flowers she was holding, with a look of exasperation.

When Bora heard that Seungho wasn’t attending school because of an injury, she immediately prepared for a hospital visit. After confirming the injury was real through Minwoo, his closest friend, her supposed “worry” came with an odd excitement.

“I’m going to nurse him back to health.”

She sparkled with enthusiasm. But Minwoo poured cold water on her fantasy with a flat voice.

“Didn’t you kill a cactus once?”

“Seungho’s different. He’s a person.”

“Pretty sure Seungho wants to be alone.”

“You clearly don’t understand patients.”

Bora spun around and flashed him a bright smile.

“When people are sick, they’re lonely. Who do you think is around him right now? So…”

She trailed off, the rest of her thought kept to herself, though the glee in her eyes was obvious.

This is my chance!

Minwoo saw right through her—and his face turned pale.