Im Munyeong runs into his first love from high school, Yeon Haejeong, in an unexpected place.
Of all things — as a senior executive of a large company, and the cleaning staff of that very building.
Ten years since he buried his one-sided love. Munyeong hides his name and pretends not to know him, but whether or not Haejeong recognizes him, he drags Munyeong around with all kinds of petty excuses to assign him odd jobs.
Haejeong’s strange attitude — as if he somehow remembers him — made Munyeong uncomfortable, but Munyeong tells himself it doesn’t matter, because he no longer has any feelings for him.
“Don’t tell me you still like me, Im Munyeong?”
At least, that’s what he believed — until he heard those words from Haejeong.
[Preview]
“You call this cleaning?”
Yeon Haejeong snapped, his body swaying back and forth as he spoke in a contemptuous tone. Munyeong slowly looked between the stack of documents and him, then quietly picked up the trash.
“I’ll be more careful.”
Munyeong responded according to company protocol. The unspoken rule among the cleaning staff: no matter what the higher-ups say — I’m sorry and I’ll be more careful. Answer with only those two.
“Ha.”
Even in the face of such petty provocation, Munyeong didn’t so much as flinch — the very picture of a professional. Yeon Haejeong let out a hollow breath, deflated.
This guy is completely ignoring me.
Munyeong hadn’t ignored him at all, but Haejeong worked himself up on his own and shot to his feet. While Munyeong wiped down a single shelf, Haejeong moved his seat three times, shifting around restlessly.
Munyeong briefly wondered why Haejeong was in such a foul mood this early in the morning — but then dropped the thought. Thinking about it wouldn’t change anything; it had nothing to do with him and wasn’t something he should concern himself with. So he focused only on his work.
“This part too. Look at all the fingerprints on the glass.”
In the meantime, Haejeong had drifted toward the glass wall and was tapping on the fully transparent window, grumbling his dissatisfaction.
“Oh, yes.”
At his words, Munyeong stopped what he was doing and walked over to the glass, grabbing the glass cleaner and giving it a few quick spritzes. Haejeong had been standing idly beside him, his guard down, when a few droplets flew onto his face — and he suddenly raised his voice.
“Ugh, ptoo! What the — ptoo, ptoo!”
Haejeong made a dramatic scene out of it, and Munyeong, startled, quickly grabbed a tissue and handed it to him.
“Are you alright? I’m sorry.”
Munyeong bowed his head in a polished apology, and for some reason, the sight of it only irritated Haejeong further.
“Hey, you did that on purpose.”
“…Pardon?”
“You did it on purpose. You knew I was right there and you just sprayed it everywhere.”
“…I barely sprayed any….”
Munyeong was right. Worried it might get on Haejeong, Munyeong had even angled the nozzle away to be careful as he sprayed.
“My eye is stinging like crazy right now.”
Haejeong lifted one eyelid to show him and kept up his complaints. Munyeong hadn’t considered that any of it could have gotten into his eye, and flustered, he stood there fidgeting. I should probably get some eye drops — were there any in the staff room? Munyeong thought for a moment.
“My eye hurts, I said! Come look!”
Haejeong threw an even bigger fit and shoved his face forward. Munyeong hesitated, then — doing as he wanted — carefully examined his eye. The sudden closeness brought Munyeong’s faint breath brushing against Haejeong’s cheek.
“…It doesn’t look red….”