IT - 7

7. “You Irritate Me”

The tense, silent dinner table—reminiscent of a couple on the verge of breakup—was disrupted by one of Tae-ha’s rare acquaintances: Stephan, a designer who despised his birth name, Bang Mandu, and had crafted his artistic alias to reflect the cold, pristine sensibilities of Northern Europe.

“What brings you all the way here, our Tae-ha?”

With a boisterous greeting, Stephan burst into the room, shattering the somber atmosphere. He pulled a chair between Tae-ha and Ji-soo, showing keen interest in the woman sitting across from his friend.

“Can’t you see we’re eating?”

Tae-ha’s low voice carried an unmistakable note of irritation. Though Stephan felt a flicker of fear at the impending storm brewing on Tae-ha’s face, his reckless curiosity wouldn’t let him back down.

“No outside food allowed, and yet you’re so brazen? Is this some kind of sumo wrestling team feast? How many boxes are you two planning to eat?”

At first, Stephan had only intended to exchange pleasantries and leave, but the sight of the woman Tae-ha had brought along—and the scarf she wore around her neck, which he had personally recommended just days ago—piqued his interest. Upon closer inspection, it was clear the scarf was a cheap knockoff from a budget brand.

Given Stephan’s penchant for scrutinizing every detail of the world, especially when it came to Tae-ha, there was no way he could keep quiet now.

“Who is she? Tae-ha’s girlfriend? Are they dating casually? Or is it something more serious, like full-blown romance?”

It was the first time Stephan, Tae-ha’s friend of twenty years, had witnessed him in a private meeting with someone outside of work. This alone was enough to send Stephan into a frenzy of excitement as he analyzed the woman before him, eager to uncover his prickly friend’s mysterious tastes.

“Should we leave?”

Finally, Tae-ha began to furrow his handsome brow, signaling a survival warning that reverberated in Stephan’s mind.

“Always so prickly. Our Tae-ha could be sanded down with steel wool for five thousand years and still not soften up. Anyway, take good care of my shamefully stubborn friend here. Nice to meet you.”

As Stephan rose to leave, he felt a pang of regret at exiting so soon. After all, it wasn’t long ago that Tae-ha had barged into his place in the middle of the night, demanding a gift without preamble. Stephan had reluctantly parted with a cherished limited-edition item—a prized possession with months-long waiting lists—even though their usual pattern of communication afterward abruptly ceased, leaving Stephan silently resentful.

Since he had given everything in the name of friendship, Stephan decided it was only fair to indulge himself a little. With a mischievous grin, he added:

“Wear one of my designs for next month’s forum opening speech. I’ll pick out the tie too.”

Tae-ha gave a curt nod. Though Stephan knew he was one of the largest shareholders behind the absurd rumors linking Tae-ha romantically to men, it didn’t matter. The freedom gained from such baseless gossip outweighed any inconvenience.

“Fine. Make sure it’s something photogenic again. Oh, and don’t misunderstand—Tae-ha and I, we’re not like that. I confessed three times and got rejected each time. How cruelly he crushed my heart…”

Ji-soo, who had been quietly observing, nodded sympathetically, as if understanding exactly how Stephan felt.

“You’re still not gone?”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving! By the way, the scarf I picked out last time—it suited her well, right? Since she has such fair skin and a pretty face, I figured the color would look stunning on her.”

Sensing an imminent threat to his life if he lingered any longer—perhaps being thrown out the window by Tae-ha—Stephan swiftly exited the room.

The bomb Stephan had playfully dropped further chilled the already frosty atmosphere between Tae-ha and Ji-soo. To break the silence, Ji-soo poured more wine, the clinking sound filling the air. Yet her hollow heart remained unchanged.

Who was this pale, beautiful woman Stephan mentioned? If Tae-ha had asked his friend to pick out a gift for her, did that mean they were in a special relationship?

“Oh no, what do I do?”

Before she realized it, the red wine had overflowed, spilling generously onto the table. Even as the staff rushed in to clean up, Ji-soo remained frozen, holding the empty bottle.

“Could I have another bottle of the same, please?”

The bitter aroma of the wine wafted up as Ji-soo placed the empty bottle down and politely placed her order with a sweet smile.

Throughout the evening, Tae-ha had maintained a wary expression, but seeing Ji-soo smile brightly at the unfamiliar staff grated on his nerves.

“Is it okay if I drink one more bottle?”

“You can drink as much as you want. Just don’t waste it like you did earlier.”

When Tae-ha gestured toward the dampened table, Ji-soo offered an awkward smile. No matter how hard she tried to appear cheerful, her face betrayed her unease.

She had come here for work—to discuss the newsletter schedule, review the interview, and secure approval for the budget.

“Did you get a chance to look over the interview content?”

“Not yet.”

Tae-ha wanted nothing more than to torment the irritating person in front of him, but instead, she brought up the mundane topic of the newsletter, which only fueled his frustration.

“You answered almost every question so precisely that day that there wasn’t much editing needed. Is it okay to proceed as is?”

“I guess.”

“If there’s anything you’d like to add or change, please let me know. I’ll revise it and submit the final draft.”

Tae-ha stared at Ji-soo, who suddenly seemed on the verge of tears. He had seen her avoid eye contact or appear nervous countless times before, but this was the first time she looked like she might cry while discussing work.

“You irritate me. Constantly.”

“What about me bothers you?”

“You. That scarf.”

Tae-ha stood abruptly and reached out, pulling the scarf wrapped around Ji-soo’s neck with a sharp tug.

He suddenly wondered about the scarf he had tossed into the trash without even opening its box. Though Stephan’s loose tongue infuriated him, his taste was impeccable—surely the scarf would have suited Ji-soo perfectly.

Even as the scarf slipped momentarily from Tae-ha’s hands back to Ji-soo, his predatory gaze instinctively searched for traces of himself on her skin.

The past month had been the longest period in Cha Tae-ha’s life. Every time he closed his eyes, that day replayed endlessly in his mind. He had resolved to torment her, the face that incessantly grated on his nerves, but now that they were face-to-face again, all he wanted was to see her smile.

He wasn’t a teenager anymore—so why was he constantly swayed by unfamiliar emotions?

Tae-ha pushed aside his sentimental thoughts and watched as Ji-soo carefully adjusted her scarf. Aware of his overly persistent gaze, she fumbled with the knot, eventually untying it and stuffing it into her pocket.

“Why? Finish tying it.”

“You said you didn’t like it.”

“When someone says that, don’t they usually argue back? Like, ‘But I helped pick it out’ or ‘This is your taste, isn’t it?’”

Ji-soo paused to catch her breath, trying to decipher the faintly teasing intent behind his question.

He was right, but the reason she had come here wasn’t for such trivial banter—it was a common workplace tactic: flattery to smooth over the unpleasantness of the past and ensure future cooperation, especially regarding the newsletter. If her superior found her irritating, there was little she could do about it.

“I’ve been wanting to take it off since earlier—it felt suffocating.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted.”

Even her evasive responses couldn’t fully conceal her genuine emotions.

“What kind of answer did you want to hear?”

Tae-ha poured wine into two glasses. The crimson waves filling the transparent goblets were as mesmerizing as Ji-soo herself at this moment.

Her composed, clear face claimed she dated men in rotation, acting world-weary, yet when pressed too deeply, she feigned innocence and retreated. Which side of her was real? No matter how hard he tried to grasp her, she slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. Perhaps that was why she intrigued him so much—a mix of dangerous curiosity and refreshing novelty.

“If I say what I want to hear, will you speak honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Anything?”

“Anything at all.”

Her current attitude—calculated compliance—wasn’t particularly appealing. He much preferred peeling back the layers of the bold Han Ji-soo; it was far more entertaining.

“Why?”

“You’re my superior, and you hold significant decision-making power over the spring newsletter I’m handling. That’s why I asked to meet you today.”

Ah, yes. This side of her felt much more like the Ji-soo he knew. With a gentle expression, as if ready to grant any request, Tae-ha sipped his wine.

“To be honest, I contacted you to push for approval and confirmation related to the newsletter.”

He already knew. If it weren’t for that half-deleted text message, she wouldn’t have come here tonight. She might have sought another way, but ultimately, she would have approached him with the same face she wore now.

“And if I was unpleasant last time because of you, I wanted to apologize for that as well.”

Though her tone remained calm, her words carried hidden thorns. Her defiant attitude pleased him more than her earlier dejected demeanor. And so, Tae-ha decided to accept the Han Ji-soo who had brazenly invaded his mind over the past month and stirred up chaos within him.

“The outsourcing fees need to be paid, and the newsletter schedule…”

When Tae-ha tilted his head slightly, Ji-soo cleverly stopped mid-sentence.

“Ah, I see. So you’re implying I’m petty for not approving the newsletter after just a kiss?”

Ji-soo’s eyes widened in shock. Her failure to immediately deny it suggested there was some truth to his words. Beneath her usual docile exterior, unexpected facets of her personality were emerging, and Tae-ha was starting to enjoy himself.

“No, it’s not that. I’ve always respected you, Executive Director, for clearly separating work and personal matters. Please understand my intentions in a similar context.”

Though her reasoning was transparent, her honesty charmed him. Tae-ha gripped his wine glass tightly to suppress a smile.

“And if I recall correctly, you told me to contact you when I wanted to drink. My apology text wasn’t sent twice, was it?”

“If you apologize one more time, I’ll show you exactly what being sorry truly means.”

With a half-joking warning, Tae-ha raised his glass, and Ji-soo mirrored his movement.

“Let’s wrap this matter up here. As a gesture of reconciliation, I’ll review and handle everything tomorrow.”

Ji-soo had never dared to challenge Tae-ha, nor did she harbor any such intention. But having achieved her goal, she smiled brightly for the first time that day. Whether running, crawling, or stumbling, reaching the destination was all that mattered.