From Seoul With Love✅

13; Mi Chin Saeggi.

She pretends to think for a brief second before she offered him a fake wide grin. "Actually, I don't mind." The grin disappeared. "You'll be doing the world a favor, actually. No one wants to stay around someone like you." He had gotten on her last string of patience. He was taking her kindness for granted.

Besides, it's not like she's forgotten all that he'd done and was willing to forgive him. Ah, no. That's another matter entirely, and they'll settle it once he's out of the hospital. She was sparing him the trouble only because of the injury.

"So, you're comfortable allowing me to starve?"

"I'm comfortable when I'm not constantly disturbed by you," she corrected, her gaze still pinned to her phone. She wonders how her work keeps piling up despite all she's done. She's starting to regret that she's not a quitter statement.

"Fine, I'll get it myself then."

"Great." She lifted her head from the phone for a brief second. "Make it two."

It's not like she doesn't pity him, she wouldn't be there if she doesn't. But, the man has been pulling shots on her, and he's trying to do the same at that moment.

What? They don't do deliveries? She doubts it.

If he wants it so badly, he can get it himself and get her as well.

He stared at her blankly before offering her a sarcastic smile that didn't last a second upon seeing hers widen, obviously unfazed by the obvious sarcasm behind it.

Pushing the comforter covering his lower limbs aside, he slowly swung his legs over the bed to slip into the flops there, his eyes briefly glancing at the device in her hand, which she had shifted her gaze to get again.

"What are you doing?" He couldn't help but ask. He's been curious for a while now because she has been staring at the screen nonstop while typing away. It can't be healthy to stare at the screen for that long.

It has been a little over three hours since she started after the doctor left, and she's been staring at it.

"Working."

"You work?" Sure, he's been seeing her leave pretty much every day at the same time he takes his tea on the balcony, a tradition he has started courtesy of a free show he got from her.

He wouldn't admit it, but it's become like a routine or something, watching her get a cab to leave every morning. He was simply glad the company Dean shared their details with him seemed to be efficient.

She's been using them ever since, meaning she no longer needed to make a fool of herself on the street.

Why did he do that? It's simple. She looked at two stupid on the streets then, he couldn't allow her to repeat the same thing. Then, it'll seem even more pathetic.

But even with all that, he still couldn't picture her working.

Upon hearing the judgment in his tone, she dropped her phone, her eyes narrowed and lips downturned. "What is that supposed to mean?" She was offended. It wasn't the first time someone undermined her; if anything, she's supposed to be used to it.

However, there was something about the way he said it. She doesn't know why, but it felt more offensive. She was easily irked.

His expression didn't falter, even when presented with such a glare. He simply shrugged, unbothered. "You seem like the pampered type," he stated matter-of-factly. "You don't look like the type that would work."

"You don't know me."

"I know a pampered princess when I see one," he dismissed, getting on his feet. Leaning down, he picked up the cardigan on the chair beside the bed and donned it over the hospital uniform he was forced to wear.