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“Tae-su,” Jeong-mun calls, raising his head from his pew.
“What?” Tae-su asks, from the front of the church.
“Pipe the fuck down, asshole.”
Tae-su snorts, amused. “It’s only eleven and tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Your point?”
“Most people, who aren’t freaking Sleeping Beauty are probably still up.”
Woong-cheol rumbles a laugh. “Don’t you mean Snow White?”
There’s a slapping sound. And an exclamation of annoyance. Tae-su’s hand of cards must have caught Woong-cheol off-guard.
“Snow White was poisoned, you fool,” Tae-su rebuts. “And I’m convinced you confuse them just to annoy me.”
Jeong-mun balls up his jacket and throws it over the pews in their general direction. It hits Woong-cheol in the back of the head.
“Ow!” He complains.
“Cry-baby,” Jeong-mun says.
Woong-cheol rubs the back of his neck. “The zipper is metal, you little imp.”
“Shut up,” Jeong-mun orders. “Both of you. Or I’ll wake you up when I get up.”
Woong-cheol groans at that idea. He is not an early riser.
Tae-su laughs. “So demanding, Psycho.” He gets up. “But I guess we can move our game to the interrogation room, so you can get your beauty sleep.”
He retrieves Jeong-mun’s jacket and heads toward his unofficial pew.
“Here, Princess.” He holds out the jacket and bows in mock-solemnity. “So you won’t feel the pea.”
Jeong-mun rolls his eyes, but rises to accept the jacket; then stuffs it back into the corner of the pew in rough imitation of a pillow. He’s still going to end up with a stiff neck but at least this way he probably won’t have a headache on top of it. He tucks his feet up and lays down once more to try to catch some sleep. But Tae-su is still standing there, looking at him.
“Hey, Tae-su,” Woong-cheol calls. “You forfeiting the game?”
Tae-su shakes his head slightly, as if emerging from a spell. “No. Absolutely not.”
But he doesn’t turn away at once and Jeong-mun catches the faintest hint of color on his cheeks before he goes. Was he blushing? The idea makes Jeong-mun’s stomach flutter oddly. Talk about fairy tales…
He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the ridiculous possibility, but the longer he lies there, the more convinced he becomes. There was something different in Tae-su’s expression. Just what it was, Jeong-mun will have to find out. Tomorrow. He sighs and tries to give himself over to that flighty temptress, sleep. But it is nearly midnight before he finally succumbs.