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Summary
The guy raised an eyebrow. “You work here?”
Jaemin blinked. “Obviously.”
The guy’s tone was flat. “I was told this place handles custom commissions.”
“We do.”
“Good,” he said. “I need some hanboks designed for an event next month.”
Jaemin tilted his head, annoyed by the guy’s tone, not rude, not exactly, but condescending in that upper-class, I-don’t-know-how-to-talk-to-service-workers kind of way.
“We’re booked until late April,” Jaemin said. “Unless you’re on our priority list, it’ll be a wait.”
“I was told to give my name.” He straightened slightly, like that was supposed to mean something. “Lee Jeno.”
Jaemin didn’t react. The name meant nothing to him. Not yet.Or:
Jaemin remembers another life. The way he loved when he wasn’t supposed to.
Jeno doesn’t remember anything at all.
When their paths cross again in another life, something unspoken pulls them together…and just as forcefully pushes them apart.
What begins as friction soon unravels into something deeper, tangled with memories neither of them can explain.
Some connections defy logic. Some wounds outlive lifetimes.
And some truths are buried for a reason.