Chapter 14: The Unhinged Suitor

The man was once again cloaked in a hat, sunglasses, and a mask, his face completely obscured. It was peculiar, however, that even with such thorough concealment, Seo Yeon-ho could recognize him. Ironically, perhaps it was easier to identify him precisely because no one else of his imposing size would shroud themselves so completely. An imposing physique must be utterly unhinged.

‘As long as I don’t engage him, there won’t be any trouble like last time,’ Seo Yeon-ho thought. ‘He won’t remember who I am.’

Seo Yeon-ho muttered with fervent hope. In truth, because of their helmets, people rarely remembered a rider’s face, unless they possessed keen observation skills or had a particular interest in them.

Still, Seo Yeon-ho gazed at the man with palpable disapproval. Of all the available spots, the man had chosen to sit at the table directly in front of the counter.

Seo Yeon-ho had assumed the man was waiting for his order, much like last time. However, a tray already sat on his table. Considering the drinks piled high with cream and a variety of cakes, he appeared intent on lingering for a considerable time.

As Seo Yeon-ho observed the man, a sense of unease settled over him.

‘His drinks and cakes had all arrived,’ Seo Yeon-ho mused, ‘so why was he still wearing his mask?’

Even stranger, neither the drinks nor the cakes showed any sign of being touched.

‘Was he performing some kind of ritual?’

Seo Yeon-ho had recognized him as an oddball from their very first encounter. Now, a new wariness arose, suggesting the man possessed an even stronger eccentric streak than initially perceived.

‘It wasn’t just his build that resembled Han Tae-young,’ Seo Yeon-ho thought. ‘His temperament was similar too.’

Seo Yeon-ho felt a prejudice forming: anyone with such an imposing physique must be utterly unhinged.

‘I hope my drink is ready,’ Seo Yeon-ho wished.

Hoping to pick up his drink and leave immediately, Seo Yeon-ho took reluctant steps forward. Having been tormented by another eccentric recently, he was disinclined to share a space with a similar type.

‘Don’t look at me,’ he pleaded silently. ‘Don’t look this way. Just look at your phone.’

The man rose from his seat. Seo Yeon-ho hoped he was merely heading to the restroom or placing an additional order. However, disregarding Seo Yeon-ho’s unspoken wish, the man blocked his path.

“You’re playing terribly hard to get.”

‘Who was he talking to?’ Seo Yeon-ho wondered. ‘Was it a monologue?’

As Seo Yeon-ho glanced around, the man abruptly seized his helmet, gripping it as if pressing it between two clamps.

“Why is it so hard to just see your face?”

“Uh, what?”

Seo Yeon-ho’s face, etched with confusion, reflected in the man’s sunglasses.

The fact that the man remembered him wasn’t entirely surprising. Seo Yeon-ho’s hope that he wouldn’t remember was just that: a hope. Eccentrics, after all, often possessed an unnaturally sharp memory for trivial things. Wouldn’t it be stranger if those who diligently picked fights and spent their days plotting revenge had poor memories?

However, his comment about seeing Seo Yeon-ho’s face being difficult struck him as odd.

‘Isn’t this only the second time he’s come to Moonlight Flower?’ Seo Yeon-ho pondered. ‘Why does he talk as if he’s been searching for me all this time?’

Amidst the jumble in his mind, which felt like tangled laundry, a sense of déjà vu washed over him. The first thing that came to mind was a perfume scent reminiscent of a summer sea. Next, he recalled a broad chest and shoulders, obstructing his view like a colossal wall—a sight almost identical to the one before him now.

And finally, the experience of being held captive, unable to move, even in Elysium…

‘Why are these so similar?’

The moment Seo Yeon-ho mentally superimposed the man onto Han Tae-young, Jung-eun opened the shop door and poked her head inside.

“Yeon-ho, the owner says sales are good this morning, so they’re treating us to ice cream. What do you want?”

Seo Yeon-ho wanted to turn around, but the man still held his head, rendering him immobile.

“Yeon-ho, what are you doing? Aren’t you having ice cream?”

“Uh, anything! You choose for me.”

Fearing the situation would escalate if Jung-eun saw him arguing with a customer, Seo Yeon-ho quickly called out.

“You’re surprisingly indecisive, Yeon-ho. Got it. I’ll choose, but no complaining later!”

Having successfully ushered Jung-eun out of sight, Seo Yeon-ho forcefully tugged at both of the man’s wrists. His intention was to make the man release his helmet, but the man’s wrists did not budge a single millimeter.

“Ugh.”

“What are you doing?”

The man asked, making no effort to conceal his look of disdain. It was strange how Seo Yeon-ho could visualize the man’s expression, despite his face being completely covered and his appearance unknown.

“Let go of me. I have to work.”

“Work? A delivery order?”

“Yes.”

“If it’s that, I ordered it, so there’s no need for you to go out and deliver it.”

“What nonsense are you talking…”

“Want me to show you the order details?”

The man pulled out his phone and opened a delivery app. Incredibly, the man’s extended phone displayed the very order Seo Yeon-ho was supposed to pick up.

“Wait a minute.”

Thinking it might be a mere coincidence, with only the order items matching, Seo Yeon-ho pulled out his own phone. He needed to verify if the call he accepted had the same order number.

“Why are you being so meticulous today? You just handed it over to Park Se-yeon without bothering to check.”

‘Park Se-yeon?’

Seo Yeon-ho paused, his eyes still comparing the order numbers. The fact that this man knew he had met Park Se-yeon was utterly disorienting.

“Who are you? How do you know about that?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Of course not.”

“Ha, you’re terribly oblivious.”

As if overwhelmed by frustration, the man removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it.

“Right, now I get it. I thought something was strange. You didn’t know what you did wrong, so you had the nerve to act all indignant.”

Seo Yeon-ho suddenly realized the man’s voice was incredibly familiar. And in that instant, as if finding the last piece of a puzzle, the man’s identity clicked into place within his mind.

“Surely, you…”

“Let’s talk somewhere else. I have something to say, so follow me.”

The man roughly seized Seo Yeon-ho’s hand and pulled him. His mind was in such a chaotic state that he was simply dragged out of the cafe. Seo Yeon-ho only regained his senses when he spotted his scooter parked in the cafe’s front yard.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Are you going to keep being difficult? Because I’m being nice and gentlemanly, you think you can walk all over me, don’t you?”

“You crazy bastard.”

Seo Yeon-ho wasn’t typically one to curse. But what Han Tae-young had just uttered was so preposterous that he found it difficult to let it pass without an expletive.

“Don’t lie to me. When have you ever been gentlemanly?”

“Judging by your expression, you know who I am now, don’t you?”

“Yes, Room 2104.”

Seo Yeon-ho ground his teeth. He refrained from mentioning Han Tae-young’s name aloud, fearing someone might overhear their conversation. Seo Yeon-ho did not want rumors spreading that Moonlight was a cafe Han Tae-young frequented.

“How brazen. If you know who I am, you should remember what you did wrong.”

“Brazen? Isn’t that what I should be saying to you? Every time I delivered to you, you, hmmph.”

“Whoa, whoa. The whole neighborhood will hear you.”

Han Tae-young clamped his hand over Seo Yeon-ho’s mouth and pressed his car key to start the engine. The roar of the large SUV’s turbo engine echoed loudly through the alley.

“Get in first.”

“No. Why should I?”

Seo Yeon-ho violently shook off Han Tae-young’s arm as he tried to push him into the passenger seat. Han Tae-young’s brows furrowed deeply. The menacing aura he exuded was not entirely concealed by his sunglasses and mask. Seo Yeon-ho braced himself, expecting Han Tae-young to grab him by the collar or roughly shove him into the car.

“I apologize.”

Seo Yeon-ho looked up at Han Tae-young, his expression suggesting he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Han Tae-young, looking utterly annoyed, rested an arm on the car roof and opened the passenger door.

“I’m apologizing for what I did, so hurry up and get in.”

Seo Yeon-ho challenged him, his face filled with wariness.

“Why do you have to apologize in the car? If you’re truly sorry, just say it here and be done with it.”

“My apologies are expensive, so put in that much effort. Understand that if it’s not now, there will never be another chance for an apology.”

Han Tae-young settled into the driver’s seat. He acted as if he had no intention of forcing Seo Yeon-ho into the car, but to Seo Yeon-ho, it felt like nothing short of coercion.

Seo Yeon-ho tapped his thumbnail with his index finger, contemplating whether to get into Han Tae-young’s car.

‘Would this psychopath really apologize? He must have some ulterior motive…’

*Whirrr*, the air conditioning flowed out of the open door. The alley offered no shade at all. The sunlight was so scorching it penetrated Seo Yeon-ho’s shirt and vest.

“You won’t go back on your word later, will you?”

Seo Yeon-ho, feigning reluctance, climbed into the passenger seat and closed the car door. Whether Han Tae-young had lowered the air conditioner’s temperature or the AI system had detected the high heat, the cold air blasting from the vents grew even stronger.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. If I’m lying, I’ll give you this car.”

“A liar would hardly keep a promise to give me the car. You need to say something believable.”

‘Does he take me for a fool?’

Seo Yeon-ho pressed his shoulder against the door, as if trying to distance himself as much as possible from Han Tae-young.

‘Pharmacy bag?’

Seo Yeon-ho spotted a pharmacy bag on the passenger floor. He assumed it was trash and pushed it with his foot, but a bundle of pills rustled out from inside.

“Sorry. I thought it was trash.”

Seo Yeon-ho, flustered, quickly picked up the pharmacy bag. As he checked if there were any footprints on the paper, Han Tae-young snatched the bag and tossed it behind him.

“It is trash.”

“Your name was written on it, though?”

“You saw my name that quickly? It should be written very small.”

Han Tae-young retorted, his tone accusing Seo Yeon-ho of lying.

“I really saw it. My eyesight is 1.5.”

“…”

Han Tae-young was silent for a moment, like a chick unable to eat, then tilted his head back.

“It’s mine, but it’s a medicine I don’t need to take. Why do they insist on medicine for just a sprained ankle?”