Lines That Shouldn’t Be Crossed

Because of the partition blocking the front, it was hard to see how the car was moving ahead.

Looking out the side window, I could tell the car was slowly making its way up the narrow road.

It wasn’t hard to understand why it was moving so slowly.

Following right behind the village bus that everyone in the neighborhood used, it couldn’t go any faster.

Even though the windows were heavily tinted, I could feel people outside glancing at the car with curiosity.

I would’ve looked too.

A car like this forcing its way up such a narrow street—it was bound to draw attention.

My whole body felt faintly prickly.

Suddenly, warmth touched the hand resting on the seat.

Startled, my fingers curled slightly before stiffening again.

The director covered my hand with his and gently interlaced our fingers.

I froze and barely managed to glance at him.

When I tried to pull my hand away, he brought it closer to his face.

His lips hovered close enough to my thumb that I could feel his breath.

“Just a moment.”

His nose brushed against my skin, and then he slowly dragged it along the back of my hand.

With his eyes closed, he inhaled deeply.

The fine hairs on my skin tingled, and when he exhaled, warmth spread across it.

He repeated the motion several times, carefully breathing in the scent.

My face flushed as I forced my fingers to stay relaxed in his grip.

Had I used my right hand to grill the meat earlier?

My left hand hadn’t done anything—but surely the smell lingered anyway.

After a moment, he placed my hand on his thigh.

I carefully pulled it back and brought it close to my own nose this time.

I couldn’t tell what he had been smelling.

If anything, there was only a faint scent of grilled meat—mixed now with a trace of his cologne.

The car remained dark, lit only faintly by passing convenience store signs outside.

Against the dim backlight, I asked,

“Why are you doing this?”

“It’s nothing.”

Even so, his gaze lingered on my hand, searching for something.

Despite the darkness, I could feel it clearly.

The atmosphere felt sharp, almost stinging.

I reached for the door before remembering.

Deodorizer.

Taking a small spray bottle from my jacket, I sprayed it over the back of my hand—and then lightly around my neck.

Watching me, his expression twisted slightly.

“That…”

“Yes?”

“…Never mind.”

“If I spray it in front of you… does it bother you?”

Maybe it was something to do with pheromones.

Even if I sprayed it on myself, it would still spread through the air.

Realizing this too late, I put it back in my pocket.

His expression returned to its usual indifference.

With a slow tilt of his head, he gestured toward the door behind me.

“We’re here.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Do you know what was uncomfortable?”

“…Something related to pheromones?”

“Go on.”

Was I wrong?

He sat slightly closer, as if about to open the door himself.

Then something occurred to me.

I needed to mention it today.

“Director, I have a request.”

“You make requests too?”

“Is that… not allowed?”

“Go ahead.”

His expression softened slightly.

I bit my lip before speaking.

“Lately, the person who usually provides me with deodorizer hasn’t been supplying it… and I’m running low.

If I’ve been using too much, I’ll be more careful.”

“Ah, right. Deodorizer.

Hasn’t it been provided?”

This time, a faint smile replaced his earlier expression.

“I’ll make sure you’re given enough.

Should I have it delivered to your home?”

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

“Go on. It’s late.”

He didn’t seem particularly pleased, but it wasn’t something I could help.

The deodorizer wasn’t easy to purchase on my own—it required proper certification.

For him, as an alpha, it would be easy to obtain.

For me, it wasn’t.

I bowed slightly and stepped out of the car.

There were still plenty of people around.

It was the same spot as a few days ago—near the park in front of my place.

I could feel the curious glances again, like brief flashes of attention.

Ignoring them as best as I could, I entered my apartment building.

I scratched at the back of my hand, which felt like it might break out in hives.

The inside of my wrist, where I had sprayed more heavily, burned and itched even more.

Should I have mentioned that too?

Maybe I should ask if there’s a different type available.

I considered sending a message but hesitated, remembering his earlier expression.

I decided to bring it up another time.

After showering, I heard a quiet knock.

At first, I ignored it, thinking it was nothing—but it came again.

Opening the door slightly, I found Secretary Song, the driver from earlier.

Before I could react, he handed me a heavy shopping bag through the gap.

“The director asked me to deliver this.”

“Thank you.”

There was more than one bag.

He handed me another before bowing and leaving.

Setting the bags down inside, I realized something.

I should have at least offered him a drink.

Opening the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of juice and hurried back out.

He hadn’t left yet.

Hearing my footsteps, he turned.

I held out the unopened bottle.

“I think you came back because of what I said earlier. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“And if you see the director…”

I had grabbed whatever was closest—luckily, it was a good-quality juice.

He glanced briefly at it before looking back at me.

“Please tell him thank you for dropping me off.

And if he’s heading home…”

I trailed off.

He stared at my outstretched hands for a moment before finally taking both bottles.

“I’m off work, but I’ll see him before I leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

As he turned to leave, he paused and looked back at me.

“Why not tell him directly?”

“I didn’t get the chance earlier.”

After a brief nod, he left.

Soon after, I heard the car engine start outside.

It wasn’t a sound you’d easily mistake.

Running a hand over the back of my neck, still slightly damp with sweat, I went upstairs.

Back inside, I checked the bags.

They were filled with deodorizer—far more than I expected.

Even at a glance, it was enough for a long time.

Knowing the price, I let out a quiet sigh.

This must have cost a fortune.

He didn’t need to go this far.

Still, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about running out.

After picking out clothes for tomorrow, exhaustion hit me all at once.

It really did feel like it poured over me.

I hadn’t done anything special—but…

No, I had.

Every day had been exhausting.

Facing him was getting harder.

There was more moving around than sitting still.

There was also Secretary Kang to worry about.

But above all, the director himself was the most difficult concern.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, my phone rang.

At this hour?

Looking at the screen, it was an unsaved number—but one I recognized.

His private number.

I answered, forcing myself awake.

“Good evening, Director.”

—Speak comfortably.

“Yes, Director.”

—Comfortably.

That wasn’t easy.

Clearing my throat, I adjusted my grip on the phone.

“Hello.”

—That’s better. At least say hello like that.

“Understood.”

I could hear him exhale faintly on the other end.

It made my ear feel oddly sensitive.

Even if he told me to relax, it wasn’t something I could do instantly.

He wasn’t someone I could treat casually.

—Secretary Song brought me juice.

“I asked him to.”

—You gave it?

“Yes. Since you dropped me off, I wanted to thank you properly.”

—I made you feel unwell, so why thank me?

“That’s not it.”

—It’s not because of me?

“Absolutely not.”

—I see.

His words made me unconsciously check my own condition again.

Shifting slightly on the bed, I leaned back.

I wasn’t uncomfortable. Not really.

—Then you don’t remember?

“Remember what?”

—How it felt when I was inside you.

“……”

—You forgot already? That’s disappointing.

“I… have something early tomorrow, so I should sleep.”

—You don’t have anything scheduled.

“No, I do. In the morning… reports and things…”

I pressed a hand to my face, which was surely burning.

What kind of conversation was this?

I pulled the blanket over myself, hiding halfway.

It was ridiculous—suddenly becoming aware of sensations I hadn’t thought about before.

There was no way something like that wouldn’t leave a trace.

But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Not enough to talk about it like this.

Not at all.

He sounded amused on the other end.

—Going to sleep?

“I should.”

—You’re under the blanket, aren’t you? Your voice sounds muffled.

“You can tell?”

—At least I know you’re actually going to sleep. See you tomorrow.

“Good night.”

—I’ll enjoy the juice. Get better soon.

“It’s really not because of you. Not at all.”

—Let’s say it isn’t. Sleep well.

“That’s not what I meant. Director?”