"What is bath? Is it food?" she gasped, tilting her head.
"Jungkook... why do mangoes feel like heaven?"
"Do we comb our hair with this strange thing?"
"Why is this ice cream so cold? Is it... alive?"

She was all questions — a child frozen in time, with stars in her eyes and dust in her tangled hair.

Park Jieun —
Seventeen. Dead.
But still so achingly alive.
A ghost in a worn-out school uniform,
mud-streaked shoes, and a backpack that carried nothing but forgotten dreams.

Jeon Jungkook —
Twenty-four.
Oxford brat.
Rich, reckless, and worshipped for being the god of gaming.
He had it all — fame, fortune, fans...
And a broken heart that no one saw behind the screens.

After losing his parents in a plane crash,
he returned to Seoul, to the mansion that held their last memories.

But what he found wasn't silence.
It was her —
curled up on dusty wooden boxes in his attic,
as if the mansion belonged to her grief.

He kicked her out.
Told her ghosts don’t belong in his world.
Watched her sob at the door and then —
vanish.
Like smoke. Like a lie. Like magic.

He thought he’d gone mad.

Until he saw her again —
on the side of the road,
crying like a lost child,
flinching at barking dogs,
hugging her knees like she still had a heartbeat.

“Come on… I’m letting you in,” he had murmured.
But she didn’t just step into the house that night —
she stepped straight into his heart.

She didn’t know what a bath was.
Or how to eat.
Or that soap wasn't candy and shampoo wasn’t perfume.

And so, the cold-hearted Oxford brat…
taught a ghost how to live again.

But what began as curiosity twisted into something deeper.
Forbidden.
Fragile.
Wrong.

He wasn’t supposed to fall for her.
She wasn’t supposed to feel real.

And yet—

When she smiled, it felt like dawn breaking.
When she cried, it shattered something inside him.
When she touched his arm and asked, “Why do humans need hugs?”,
he knew he was in too deep.

But behind those soft brown eyes,
beneath the silk of her voice,
something dark is buried.
A memory.
A truth.
A horror waiting to awaken.

Because not all ghosts are innocent.
And not all love stories end in light.