Chapter 16
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Yewon’s pulse hammered wildly the instant those startling names surfaced.
“Starting today, she’ll be known as Han Yewon—spread the word!”
Weon scooped her up high and swung her gently back and forth with pure delight.
“Cut the craziness and set her down right now—”
“Suddenly it hit me: in this brutal, empty mess of a life, she’s our sole beacon. Picture this jungle packed with Seo Yeonho barreling ahead like some wild bull and Lee Doha darting off like a frightened deer—only Yewon saves us. I’ll whisk her straight home for endless cuddles… Ouch!”
“Lower her carefully—she’s trembling. Let’s chat properly, Hanwon.”
Doha spotted no other path to silence Weon’s endless rant than a hands-on approach, so he twisted Hanwon’s flank sharply and pulled Yewon close.
“Not her—you can’t steal my precious Yewon!”
“Since when is she your property? Step back.”
Doha cradled Yewon securely against his chest before shoving the persistent Weon aside with a firm boot.
Deep down, fear never gripped her, despite his wild-eyed frenzy.
With a heavy exhale, Doha carried her toward the kitchen, abandoning the desperate hanger-on.
“Why can’t Uncle manage it himself?”
That remark carried layers left unsaid.
Curiosity furrowed Yewon’s brow as she cocked her head.
Doha struggled to form words, simply averting his gaze.
A tender puff escaped her lips, brushing his cheek with a faint “hoo.”
Rather than refuse outright, he held his tongue.
Did he crave another, or was once enough?
Uncertainty swirled in Yewon, yet repeating the gesture felt harmless.
She exhaled softly once more, her whisper muddling the sound a touch, though she brushed off the imperfection.
Doha’s shadowed expression softened into the barest curve of joy.
Mixed emotions churned as Yewon gazed upward at him.
This explained his silence about her grandparents on her mother’s side—nation’s premier starlet and celebrated filmmaker, forever unwed.
Initial letdown stung when neither her mother nor uncle shared the truth.
Yet witnessing them firsthand unlocked Doha’s guarded heart completely.
She’d clam up too, standing in his shoes.
Unable to contain his glee, Weon emerged from the shower humming cheerfully and plopped down at the table.
Odd chuckles bubbled out—"heh heh,” “hee hee"—unbidden.
His debut glimpse of Yewon sparked simple awe: pure cuteness overload, a spitting image of Lee Doha. Their lineage dominated utterly.
Babies always charmed him, yet Yewon triggered an odd pause.
Her features mirrored Doha too precisely, stirring unintended reluctance.
Admiring her angelic charm—those irresistible cheeks begging a playful pinch—always summoned Doha’s stern glare from the shadows.
Lee Doha bore the blame entirely.
He recoiled from directing such adoration toward Doha himself.
Freely doting on her had stayed tricky until then.
That single “hoo” from Yewon, aimed at his weary form after clashes with Lee Doha and Seo Yeonho, dissolved every barrier like melting ice.
Endless trials had worn him thin.
Doha offered no malice but zero give, his finicky edge demanding constant navigation.
Yeonho’s raw honesty bordered on icy, his social graces minimal—at least in Weon’s eyes, pure laziness.
Ian’s traits barely bore mentioning.
Taeyoung’s exit left a lingering mess of envy and frailty.
Company consensus painted Weon—the sole even-tempered soul—as the ultimate sufferer.
No aid came his way.
Instead, they offloaded every mess, deeming him the lone handler.
Heaven sent a savior!
Yewon sensed his frayed spirit, crushed between those titans, and offered her “hoo"—instant mending.
Infinite Yewon faith would enshrine that miracle in holy verse.
Her gentle warmth ignited his bruised soul anew.
Weon marveled silently at Doha’s prolonged tenderness.
Newer members knew little of his past, brief overlaps at best.
Weon spanned a decade-plus, mapping every facet of Lee Doha.
Today’s version shed all thorns.
Doha’s norm? Isolation. Vicious self-hate. Endless gloom.
Outwardly flawless: the idol epitome—soft, engaging, endlessly patient with fans despite his subdued spark.
Behind closed doors, post-schedule, he’d barricade in bedroom or studio, emotions a locked cage.
No one dared approach; a nudge risked detonation.
Even Weon, his nearest ally, stayed barred outside.
Doha ticked like unstable ordinance.
Yewon’s arrival birthed his gentlest self.
Recent days stunned Weon covertly.
Doha prepping food?
Venturing into common spaces?
Illuminating rooms?
Chatting freely—intimate, off-script, camera-free?
The pinnacle shock lingered in that subtle grin Weon alone detected.
Disbelief warred with truth.
Shower epiphany solidified it.
Yewon belonged here permanently—Doha her guardian.
Banishing this angel outdoors? Unthinkable. He’d nurture her nearby, securing futures: his, Doha’s.
Others stood to gain immensely too.
Humans craved a balanced Doha to collaborate with.
Strategic charm offensive ahead. Brainpower engaged. Nicer vibes. Hanwon could ace this. Genius confirmed.
Such ironclad determination carried him to the table.
