PTT - 13

A man so tall that she had to crane her neck to look up at him had been standing beside her for some time now. 

Dressed in a navy coat, cream-colored knit sweater, and black slacks, he exuded an actor-like aura. His deep-set eyes were framed by calm, straight black hair that partially covered his forehead, and his sharp, perfectly sculpted nose looked as if crafted with divine care. Yoo Sayeon’s gaze slowly traveled down his figure. 

He was clearly no naive freshman—she was certain he was at least in his mid-to-late twenties. 

His mature and masculine charm far surpassed anything she’d seen among her peers. This was the first time she’d encountered someone so strikingly handsome in person. Facing such a face, one she’d only expect to see on TV, left her feeling as though she’d been struck on the head. She had always thought the phrase “unable to look away” was an exaggeration—but it wasn’t. 

In that moment, she instinctively realized: this man was the “Thousand-Year Handsome” Minji had talked about. 

‘Oh no, I’m staring blatantly…’ 

After what felt like five minutes but was likely just five seconds, Sayeon finally turned her head. She knew full well how rude it was to stare so intently at someone. 

Even so, she could now understand why Minji hadn’t forgotten his face after all this time. It made perfect sense. 

Though she usually didn’t place much importance on someone’s appearance, her heart began to race. Chiding herself inwardly, she absentmindedly fidgeted with her fingertips. 

At that moment, a pleasant baritone voice echoed in her ear. 

“Which floor are you going to?” 

“Ah… the 8th floor. Thank you.” 

She was sure she had pressed the button earlier, but perhaps it had only happened in her mind. Embarrassed, Sayeon quickly bowed her head in thanks. The man gave a slight nod before extending his long arm to press the button. 

[The doors are closing.] 

With the announcement, the elevator doors slid shut. Sayeon fixed her gaze on the LED numbers lighting up one by one. 

Truthfully, she wanted to steal another glance at the man beside her, but she wasn’t bold enough to do so. Instead, she quietly exhaled, fidgeting with her fingertips. 

‘What a nice scent.’ 

It was a blend of woody notes and faint musk, soft and fitting for the season. Like warm snow gently settling on bare tree branches—a cozy feeling that couldn’t quite be put into words. 

How could she be thinking these things after meeting him for just a few seconds? It seemed she wasn’t someone who fell for autumn vibes—winter suited her better. 

And then— 

BOOM! A deafening noise shook the elevator, startling Sayeon out of her thoughts. Her already large eyes widened further, resembling those of a startled rabbit. Unconsciously, she muttered under her breath. 

“What on earth…” 

Before she could finish her sentence, another loud BOOM! reverberated through the space. 

At the same moment, all the lights inside the elevator went out. There was no way to tell which floor they were on. The elevator had stopped moving completely. 

Sayan stiffened, biting her lower lip nervously. A chilling sensation crept up from the nape of her neck. 

Could it be? Was she really trapped here? 

The flush of excitement that had colored her cheeks moments ago vanished, leaving her face pale. Slowly, she turned her head to look at the man. 

Though he seemed startled as well, he remained calm, unlike her. With his index finger, he pressed the emergency call button marked with a bell icon. 

Beeeeep. The connection tone rang out, but there was no response even after ten seconds passed. Sayeon’s trembling gaze followed his movements as her palms grew clammy with sweat. 

Her heart pounded rapidly from extreme anxiety. After attempting to call a few more times, the man furrowed his brow slightly and touched his chin, looking troubled. 

Meanwhile, Sayeon’s breathing grew shallow. Noticing her worsening state belatedly, the man narrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped closer to her. 

“Are you alright? You look very pale.” 

“…Haa, I have a bit of claustrophobia.”

Her words came out broken and uneven, like a malfunctioning radio. Beads of sweat had already formed on her forehead, hidden beneath her bangs. 

She had never imagined something like this could happen. Leaning against the elevator wall, Sayeon blinked rapidly, her face pale as snow. 

“If we wait a little longer, they’ll connect with us. Try not to worry too much, and keep breathing.” 

“...” 

The man was right. Though elevator malfunctions weren’t frequent, she knew that being stuck didn’t immediately mean an accident would follow. 

But what tormented her was the fact that she was trapped in this narrow space with no idea how long it would last. 

‘Pull yourself together, Yoo Sayeon… That’s all in the past. Why does this keep happening?’ 

It had already been seven years since that terrible day—a period far from short. Yet some memories were etched deeper into her body than her mind. 

When she was in middle school, Jeong Ah-young had repeatedly struck Sayeon’s right hand with a golf club, just because she had irritated her. It felt like pounding a mortar. 

Her knuckles, battered against the hard metal, swelled with bruises, but she couldn’t receive treatment right away because Ah-young and her gang locked her inside the gym storage room. 

Before the janitor, who heard her exhausted screams, opened the door, Sayeon endured five agonizing hours in that cramped, four-square-meter space. Those were the longest five hours of her life. 

She thought she had overcome it all, that she had severed every chain binding her to the past. But still, she couldn’t stop her right hand from trembling. 

Just as she reflexively tried to cover her trembling hand, something warm enveloped it. Lowering her gaze, she saw— 

“Why are you shaking so much? I’ll hold your hand for a moment.” 

“Ah…” 

“When you’re nervous, holding someone’s hand can help calm you down. If it makes you uncomfortable, let me know.” 

His large, masculine hand completely covered hers. Though calloused, it didn’t feel rough at all. 

On the contrary, it felt warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a soft blanket. Even though it belonged to someone she had just met today, an inexplicable sense of security washed over her. 

In her dark eyes, his face reflected clearly—his sharp jawline, distinct yet refined features, and most of all, his unwavering gaze captivated her. 

It felt as though he could effortlessly suppress the anxiety rising to her throat. Their gazes intertwined deeply in the air. Slowly rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, he spoke. 

“Breathe. I’ll count for you. When I say ‘one,’ take a deep breath in, and when I say ‘two,’ exhale over three seconds.” 

“...I understand.” 

“Look into my eyes. Okay, one.” 

It felt as if she were under a spell. How else could she blindly trust a complete stranger like this? 

Sayan obediently inhaled deeply while staring at him. The sensation filled her lungs as if they were brimming with air. 

He moved his thin lips slightly. Two. His low, gentle voice tickled her ear. With his permission, she slowly exhaled, closing her eyes. 

Three, four. The counting continued. As she gradually released her concentrated breaths, a fleeting sense of dizziness passed over her. 

“Again. One. Take another deep breath.” 

Yoo Sayeon nodded. By now, she no longer needed to look directly into his eyes to feel calm. 

Somehow, this suffocating elevator had transformed into a cozy, comfortable space. 

After repeating several cycles of inhaling and exhaling, she finally opened her eyelids. 

“...Ah.” 

At a distance close enough for their breaths to mingle, the man stood before her. The corners of his mouth curved into a gentle smile—an expression so captivating that she forgot to exhale, swallowing her breath instead. 

Blinking her long lashes, Sayeon parted her lips slightly. Her ears burned red for an entirely different reason now. 

“Are you feeling better now?” 

She became acutely aware that he was still holding her hand. She should have told him she was fine now, that he could let go—but the words wouldn’t come.

Her rational judgment was clouded, and her body refused to obey her will, leaving her in an awkward predicament. 

The man gazed at her with a soft expression before letting out a low chuckle. 

“I think I already know the answer, even without you saying it.” 

He turned his head slightly to the right. At that very moment, the elevator doors—seemingly destined to remain shut forever—magically slid open. 

At the same time, a sharp pop sounded as the LED numbers above the door lit up once more. 

The two of them looked beyond the now-open doors, their eyes fixed on the same spot ahead.