Once they arrived at the apartment, Luca placed the groceries they had managed to buy on the table.
"At least we got some veggies and … fruit," he said, clearly avoiding the earlier topic.
Seo-in noticed the change but decided not to press him. It was obvious Luca didn't want to discuss the incident—at least not right now. She busied herself putting away groceries in the kitchen, humming softly under her breath.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to the man in the supermarket—and that disturbing message. She shook her head to clear her mind before turning to Luca again.
"What were you planning on cooking for dinner, anyway?"
Luca was already pulling out a knife and cutting board, his movements sharp but controlled.
"Stir-fry," he said simply, focusing on slicing the bell peppers into precise strips.
Seo-in leaned against the counter, watching him work with quiet amusement. Cooking was one of the few things that could fully absorb Luca's attention and calm his usual intensity.
"...You're avoiding talking about it," she observed softly after a beat.
The knife paused mid-slice for just a fraction of a second before resuming.
"No point discussing some random creep at the grocery store," Luca muttered without looking up—but tension had already crept back into his shoulders.
Seo-in sighed, crossing her arms. "Luca, come on. You're clearly bothered by it. It's okay to talk about—"
He interrupted, tone blunt. "And what will talking about it accomplish, exactly?"
Seo-in bit her tongue, taken aback by the sharp edge in his voice. She knew better than to push him when he was like this—but still, she hated seeing him so guarded.
"I'm just ... worried—"
Luca cut her off again, frustration seeping through his voice.
"Worried about what? It's probably nothing. Just some crackpot with a wrong number or something."
He tossed the sliced bell peppers into the hot pan. They sizzled angrily, echoing his mood. Seo-in huffed, resisting the urge to throw her hands up.
"Because you've always been so good at assessing danger, right? It's not like you have a history of ignoring threats until they blow up in your face—"
"Stop it, Hase. It's not important. You and I don't know that guy, so we can't confront him just because I have a hunch. It's baseless." He added spices to the pan, stirring with more force than necessary, "Besides, it's dangerous. Anything could happen. So just forget it, okay?"
Seo-in frowned, arms crossed. "Baseless? That text wasn't baseless, Luca. It was directed at us—at you specifically!"
Luca didn't look up. His voice was low but firm, "and what do you want me to do about it right now? Track him down and start a fight in the middle of Bremen?"
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder—eyes sharp but weary, "Drop it."
Seo-in opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, his phone buzzed violently against the countertop. The screen lit up with another message from an unknown number.
Luca snatched the device immediately—then froze. His voice came out low as he read it aloud, almost to himself:
[Unknown] 19:17 "You should listen to your boyfriend, Princess."
Luca's fingers tightened around the phone until the screen dimmed under the pressure. His jaw was rigid, eyes burning with fury—and something darker.
Seo-in reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his forearm before he could spiral deeper into that storm she knew all too well.
"Hey," she murmured—not pleading, not scolding—just grounding him. "Put the phone down."
For a moment, it looked like he might snap again.
Then his shoulders dropped as he exhaled through clenched teeth and tossed the phone onto the couch, as if it had burned him. He turned back to the stove—the stir-fry now threatening to burn from neglect.
"...We're blocking that number after dinner," he said finally, lowering the flame and salvaging what he could of their meal and of the conversation, before either of them boiled over completely.
***
After dinner, Luca kept his promise. He blocked the unknown number, then stepped out for a while, leaving Seo-in alone in the apartment.
While brushing her hair and changing into more comfortable clothes, her phone began to ring.
Her mother's name flashed across the screen.
Seo-in exhaled quietly. She hesitated before answering, already bracing herself for the usual routine—questions, reminders, expectations.
"Hey, Mom," she said softly. "What's up?"
"Seo-in-ah, are you alright? How are your studies going?"
Her mother's voice was calm, but unusually careful.
"I'm fine. I finished my last assignment for the semester."
There was a short pause. Then—
"Is that boy with you?"
Seo-in stilled, fingers frozen around the phone.
"…Yeah. He's here. We're studying."
She wasn't even sure why she lied. Reflex, maybe.
Her mother sighed, a familiar disapproving sound, but before Seo-in could brace for another lecture—
"Seo-in-ah… there's something your father and I need to talk to you about."
Her tone changed. Controlled. A little too gentle.
A prickle of unease climbed Seo-in's spine.
"Okay … what is it?"
Another breath.
Then her mother said it:
"The Kim family contacted us recently."
Seo-in blinked.
"…Who?"
"The Kim family," her mother repeated, as though the name should mean something. "A very respectable family. Old friends of your father."
"I … don't understand." Seo-in sat on the edge of the bed, brows furrowing. "Why are you bringing them up?"
Her mother hesitated—just for a moment.
"They asked about you."
Seo-in's heart dropped.
"Asked … about me? For what?"
Not answering directly, her mother continued with careful optimism that felt rehearsed.
"They have a son your age. His name is Hyun-wook. He just returned from studying abroad, and his family is planning a small formal event in October. They'd like you to attend."
A beat.
Then another.
"…Why?" Seo-in whispered.
Her mother finally said the quiet part aloud:
"They're hoping to discuss a possible … match."
Seo-in's stomach turned.
"A match?"
Her voice cracked, shock overpowering everything else.
"Mom—no. No. You can't be serious."
"Why not?" her mother replied quickly, almost too quickly. "They're a good family. Stable, respectable, reliable. This could secure your future, Seo-in."
"This is so sudden!" Seo-in pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. "You've never mentioned them before. How can you expect me to consider something like this out of nowhere?"
"We didn't want to pressure you before," her mother said, choosing her words carefully. "But opportunities like this don't come twice. You're grown now, and it's time to think realistically."
Realistically.
Seo-in felt like the floor had fallen out beneath her.
"I'm not going to a matchmaking meeting," she said quietly, firmly, though her voice shook. "I don't even know them."
"You'll only be talking," her mother insisted. "Just one meeting. You owe us at least that, Seo-in."
That word—owe—hit harder than it should have.
"I'm not doing this," Seo-in repeated, breath unsteady.
Silence stretched tight across the line.
Finally, her mother sighed, the disappointment unmistakable.
"Fine. We'll talk about it later. For now … your father wanted to know if you're coming home for Chuseok."
Seo-in closed her eyes.
"… I'll think about that later."
They exchanged a few strained pleasantries before the call ended.
Seo-in tossed her phone onto the bed as if it had burned her.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling—still hearing her mother's voice echoing:
A match.
We only want what's best.
You owe us that.
Tonight, love didn't feel like choosing sides—
It felt like being pushed into a life she never agreed to live.