32 — Midnight Swim
Mia's POV:
The second she agreed, her brain short-circuited. 'Why did I say that?' Like, seriously.
Her mouth moved faster than her common sense could scream.
Jae-il gave her a small smile. “Cool. I’ll wait for you out there.”
And just like that, he turned and padded back toward the yard, leaving damp footprints on the tile.
Mia stood there frozen, clutching the edge of the counter. Did she really throw herself into a situation where her self-control would hang by a thread?
“Great idea, genius.” She muttered, pushing herself off the counter.
Her legs moved before her brain could conjure a thousand more reasons why it’d be a bad idea.
She jogged quietly up the stairs.
Back in her room, she pulled open the top drawer of her dresser, rifling through clothes until her fingers closed around soft, stretchy fabric—her black swimsuit. Simple. Modest. She hesitated, then tossed it aside and grabbed a sleeker one. Deep navy. Low back. Slight plunge.
More dangerous, perhaps.
But for once, her desire for his gaze on her outweighed the guilt. If he would look at her, then...
Then... it might have been worth it.
Slipping it on, she caught her reflection in her full-length mirror. 'I'm too damn sexy, no way would he resist.' She grinned at the thought, a little guiltily, a little eagerly.
No way that bitch sunny.eonni could possibly compare.
Mia stepped outside, her hair fluttered behind her in a long buttery wave.
She slipped past the sliding doors and onto the pool deck. Jae-il was already in the pool, arms stretched across the edge, watching her with a curious expression. Confusion too, maybe. She didn’t blame him.
She’d been acting strange.
She had been strange.
Walking on eggshells. Avoiding his gaze, dodging conversations, holding her breath around him like proximity was some kind of trigger. There were times where she snapped for no reason.
Mia adjusted the towel wrapped around her form as she stopped at the edge of the pool. The water sparkled from the in-built lighting.
Her gaze caught his and refused to let go. Look at him, at those damn, cursed amethyst shards of his. At how water slid over his sculpted form, catching the light at just the right angle to make him look like some kind of water deity. She gulped. Fifteen years old? Hard to believe.
Mia had to remind herself of that number more often than she liked.
But numbers didn’t explain symmetry, or the way he moved, or how effortlessly he held attention. He simply was… Jae-il. Her lovely little brother.
She exhaled, steeling herself.
She wondered. Could beauty really transcend everything and overpower all logic?
Was it that easy, or her that superficial? Because clearly, if that was all it took to ensare her, then—
"Noona?"
His brows knit slightly, clearly having noticed her strange behaviour.
She couldn't help but burst out laughing, a little. "Damn you, Jae-il..." It was a huff, a mix between a groan and a curse. A whine. A statement of loss. The ultimate evidence, maybe, that she didn't stand a chance.
In all of this, her younger brother merely blinked in surprise and confusion.
Well...
Whatever.
Like, what could she do? If she were normal, or healthy, or at least functioning correctly...
If she were more of a mature sister, or less starstruck, or even remotely reasonable, perhaps she'd take a seat beside the water and talk like a normal person. But she was none of those.
What was the point, really? She was tired of being so fidgety and… immature, around him.
A deep breath, eyes shut.
Then, without an ounce of hesitation, without waiting for a word or an invitation, she undid the knot on her white, beach-styled robe. She dropped it. Let it fall on her feet.
And she stared at him, expressionlessly.
“......”
He held her eyes—though the slight widening, the flickering pupil, meant that his concentration was shot. But he didn't look away, not in the slightest. This bastard really had incredible self-control. He had no right looking so damn calm, in control, even when faced with the sight of his mostly-naked big sis standing in front of him.
Shameful and liberating at the same time.
Still, Mia climbed down the ladder into the pool with more confidence than she had a right to. Once she grew accustomed to the temperature, she swam closer to him.
Closer.
"What's going on in that handsome, genius head of yours?" She questioned him in a hushed tone.
He arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Handsome, really?"
"Isn't that what they're calling you now, superstar?"
He chuckled. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Hey!" She splashed the water at him. He dodged, easily. "Your head's gotten big too quickly!"
"Is that bad? I mean, no one gets to be a prodigy without a huge head, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Everyone's worshipping the damn ground you walk on, must be nice."
"And just a minute ago, you called me handsome."
There was a bit of a sly, smug twinkle in those purple irises.
How typical. His nose had become more and more upturned, so to speak.
"...And modest too, a winning combination." She retorted, sarcastically.
He smiled. His eyes softened as he leaned back on the pool's edge, sighed, and looked up. "I kind of missed it."
"Missed what?"
He was hesitant, which was unusual. Mia didn't know he was capable of those thoughts. He'd always been so determined. So driven.
"The way we spoke before... all the teasing and the banter... the last months, well, it was a little strange with you. I mean, I get it. You're in college. I'm busy juggling high school and football." He finished, his tone light, thoughtful. “Maybe it’s normal that we drift a little. Still… it felt like you were keeping me at arm’s length.”
Mia’s fingers drifted lazily through the water, eyes fixed on the ripples instead of him.
“Maybe I was.”
“Why?”
The question was direct, not accusing—just curious. But it still made her throat tighten.
She almost laughed it off. Almost.
“Because…” Her voice faltered. “Because I’m an idiot, maybe.”
He tilted his head, watching her closely. “You don’t sound like you’re joking.”
“I’m not.” She finally met his eyes. “Sometimes I think… if I just stay away, I can stop thinking stupid things.”
"......"
Jae-il stared at her.
She looked away.
“Like what?” He asked, his voice softer now.
Now he wanted to know a little too much.
“Forget it.” She pushed away from him, floating back a little. “It’s not important.”
He frowned. "Noona, is it really okay for you to run from your problems?"
Mia laughed a little. But the laugh was weak, insincere. This particular problem? Yes, it was better for him if she actually ran from it.
"Can't we just enjoy this instead?"
Jae-il didn't respond immediately. Instead, he floated next to her, with Mia facing the pool ledge. "We can, Noona. I'm sure you're mature enough to deal with whatever's on your mind. I just don't want you to give me the cold shoulder next time we cross each other—like you've been doing for months, now. Seriously. One day I'll start thinking it's because of me. Then I'll be hurt and sad, and I might just go live on an isolated island with nobody else for company. I think that would be pretty embarrassing, wouldn't it?" He finished in an exaggerated voice.
She shook her head.
"What if I don't care?" She challenged.
He chuckled a little, with a hint of resignation. "Well, I wouldn't force you. I'm not like that. Live and let live, or whatever the expression is. Just... Noona." He said a little more forcefully. "You know that I might not stay here for too long, right?"
That caught her off guard.
Mia blinked. “Not stay here…? What do you mean?”
Jae-il rested his arms on the pool edge, water dripping lazily from his fingers. “Actually, I wanted to break the news sometime later tomorrow, but... I got the call from the KFA. They want me for the U-17 World Cup roster. The training camp starts in a month or so.”
Her lips parted, but he kept going.
“And that’s not all. A few scouts from Europe have been watching me since last year. Spain, Germany, even England. If things go well, I might have trials lined up after the tournament. Could be weeks, could be months abroad. Could turn into years. Who knows?”
She felt the words settle, heavy but strangely distant, like they hadn’t fully reached her yet. “Years?”
He gave a small shrug. “That’s the life. Pros train six days a week, travel almost every other week. Even when you’re home, you’re not really ‘home.’ It’s gym, training ground, video sessions, rehab, media, matches… then repeat. Holidays? Maybe a couple weeks in the off-season."
Her heart felt like a lump of stone. "Years?" She repeated, hollowly.
"Years." He repeated. "At the very least."
“So what—you’re saying I won’t even see you around much?”
He smiled faintly, but there was a sliver of seriousness in his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not leaving tomorrow, but once things start rolling… it’ll be quick. You’ll blink and I’ll be on the other side of the world.”