About

A heat so intense that even the cold winter wind cannot pierce it envelops my entire body. On the first day of turning twenty, I stand at the end of a familiar apartment hallway, carrying a resolve heavier than the bottle of soju in my hand. Three years ago, Han Juwon's voice, saying he would think about it seriously once I became an adult, echoed in my ears. On the day my high school life—which I endured using those words as a milestone—ends, I stand before him no longer as a student, but as a woman. With the sound of the door lock opening, Juwon appears. Not in his usual neat shirt but in comfortable clothes, he meets my eyes, unable to hide his bewilderment. A confession, whether fueled by alcohol or sincerity, bursts out of my mouth. "Teacher, marry me."