The sky, which had been clear up until just last week, was now streaked with mottled clouds. It looked like raindrops might fall at any moment, but there was no rain in the forecast.
Still feels like it’s going to rain…
Muttering to himself, Haon pressed his forehead against the windowpane and rubbed at the corner of his eye. It was 9 a.m. on a Monday. Normally, he’d already be working by now, but today he was leisurely gazing out the window.
The man had set his official work time to start at 10. He still had plenty of time.
Haon poked a straw into a pack of soy milk and leaned against the windowsill. Lately, he’d been making a conscious effort to eat breakfast. Even if he didn’t have much of an appetite, he forced himself to drink the soy milk like water. If he let himself get hungry, even a good mood would plummet—so it was better to keep his stomach full.
Before coming to this house, he had rarely ever felt hunger unless he was in heat. But now, thanks to how ridiculously thoughtful and well-made the man’s cooking was, the clock in his belly—once long broken—had slowly started ticking again. It was a change Haon didn’t exactly welcome.
He absentmindedly stared at the nutritional label on the soy milk pack before taking another sip. This soy milk was something he’d gifted to the man.
“Let’s drink it together.”
The man had stocked the fridge with soy milk himself, then told Haon to let him know when they ran out so he could buy more. Of course, Haon had eagerly agreed. Buying soy milk for him was nothing—he could get as much as the man wanted.
Just like him, the man drank a pack every day. Every time Haon saw the number of packs slowly dwindle, a sense of pride would well up in his chest. He was glad he’d chosen it as a gift.
Shaking the now-light paper carton, Haon continued gazing out the window. But his unfocused eyes weren’t looking at the concrete-packed land below—they were fixed on the sky. The overcast clouds made him sigh again and again.
He wasn’t in a great mood. The gloomy sky didn’t help, but the real culprit was the restless night he’d had.
He’d gone to bed after 3 a.m. last night, and while he had fallen asleep right away, he woke up only an hour later. He’d dreamed of his grandmother.
“…I hope it doesn’t rain.”
Rubbing his forehead against the chilly glass, he whispered to the sky as if sharing a secret. And strangely, it looked like the clouds were starting to lift.
Feeling a flicker of wonder, he kept whispering his wishes to the sky, even clasping his hands together as if in prayer.
Please don’t let it rain. I hope the weather clears up. And as for the dream about Grandma… let me have that one later. Just a bit later, please.
As Haon squeezed his eyes shut, earnestly praying, he suddenly heard a soft pit-pat—the sound of raindrops falling nearby. When he slowly opened his eyes, he saw tiny droplets breaking apart against the once-clear window.
His wide, round eyes filled with a trace of resentment.
They said there was no rain in the forecast.
Haon pouted, alternating his gaze between the weather app on his phone and the sky above. Having prayed with such hope in his heart, only to be met with rain, left him feeling deflated.
I shouldn’t have made a wish at all.
***
Haa…
Seo Inho, still lying in bed, let out a dry sigh as he stared at the window. His mood was just as gloomy as Haon’s.
In Inho’s case, it was entirely because of the weather.
On overcast days, he never left the house. If boredom got the best of him, he’d start calling people over. Once the summer monsoon season began, Inho’s place would always fill with a rotating cast of new guests.
He never trusted weather forecasts. Instead, he’d simply look at the sky and predict the obvious: it was going to rain. And this time, his prediction hit the mark.
Pit-pat. The sound of raindrops, soft at first, began to grow louder. Still sprawled lazily across the bed, Inho buried his face in the pillow. Just thinking about being stuck inside all day was already boring. Not that going out was all that exciting either.
Ah.
He exhaled heavily into the pillow, then suddenly lifted his head and glanced toward the open door. As always, the bedroom door was wide open—and it made him think of the person downstairs.
What’s Haon up to, I wonder.
***
Haon ran a comb hastily through his hair and stepped out of his room just before 10. Even though the space was much bigger than the goshiwon he used to live in, being stuck in an enclosed room still made his mood steadily sink.
“You’re up early.”
As soon as he opened the door, a familiar face greeted him. The man had just come down from the second floor as well. Their timing was perfect.
“Did you sleep well?”
Lifting the corners of his mouth in a bright smile, Haon walked confidently toward the kitchen, as if that had been his destination all along. He didn’t actually have anything to do in there. He just unconsciously followed the man because it looked like he was heading that way. Since he was already there, he figured he might as well grab a glass of water.
“It’s raining outside.”
The man, waiting for Haon before heading into the kitchen, pointed toward the window. Raindrops were tapping against the transparent panes scattered throughout the space.
“Yeah, I saw.”
Haon’s gaze followed the man’s pointing finger, then slowly sank lower. No matter how much he smiled, he couldn’t quite hide the heaviness in his chest brought on by the dreary weather.
“The forecast said it wouldn’t rain though…”
As his voice trailed off, he looked back at the man—whose slate-gray eyes, clear even in the dull weather, seemed to drift naturally into the distance.
“You don’t like rain either, Haon?”
The man asked while heading toward the fridge. Haon nodded and asked in return if he disliked it too.
“I hate it. So much.”
The man gave a slight smile as he pulled a blue bottle from the fridge. The expression on his face didn’t match the intensity of his words at all. But he did say he hated it, a lot, so it probably wasn’t just a throwaway comment.
“Me too.”
Haon was sensitive to humidity. Ever since he was a child, rainy days would drain his energy and leave him easily fatigued. On top of that, growing up in the countryside meant he was stuck indoors throughout the monsoon season—so he had no fond memories associated with rain. And once the downpours passed, there was always even more to do.
“Being stuck inside on rainy days just makes you feel sluggish.”
As he pressed the button on the water dispenser, Haon recalled his days living in the countryside and the goshiwon. Unlike the man’s place, which was always clean and comfortable, both environments had been heavily affected by rain.
Especially in the goshiwon, where every uptick in humidity came with the overpowering stench of mold. He’d even woken up at night from the itching sometimes.
“I hope it clears up soon.”
Thinking he might’ve rambled too much, he took a sip of water. Meanwhile, the man quietly watched the hand holding Haon’s glass—how limp it looked—and the smile on his face that had clearly dimmed. Then, glancing out the window with his head tilted slightly, he finally spoke, lightly tapping the blue bottle with his fingertip.
“Wanna go out?”
Haon lowered the glass and looked at him. His eyes said Huh?, blinking in confusion, and the man stepped a little closer with a look that said he’d just had a good idea.
“Let’s go see a movie.”
“Uh… I mean, I have work…”
“Take today off and hang out with me. I’ll give you tomorrow off in exchange.”
Take today off to play and tomorrow off to rest? Haon shook his head, saying he couldn’t possibly do that, but the man was already busy thinking about which movie they should watch.
“You don’t want to go?”
The man tilted his head slightly as he watched Haon’s flustered expression. His eyes, shaped as though painted by a careful brushstroke, looked especially deep today.
Huh. No double eyelids? His eyes were so big, Haon had just assumed. But now that he was looking closely, there was only the thinnest fold—a monolid. Still, his eyes were huge. His lashes were long, too.
“You don’t hate the idea, right?”
The man suddenly called Haon’s name, snapping him out of his daze, and asked again. Haon stared at his face a beat longer, then gave a faint nod. Of course he didn’t hate it.
They agreed to meet in the living room in an hour. The man said he’d get ready as fast as possible, then dashed up the stairs.
“No need to rush.”
Haon looked up anxiously as the man climbed two or three steps at a time. He tensed up instinctively, afraid he might trip. Thankfully, the man must’ve had great reflexes, because he made it upstairs without a stumble. If it were me, I would’ve face-planted by now.
An hour later, huh… Haon checked the time on his phone and returned to his room. He’d already showered, so all he had to do was change clothes.
Might as well do a little cleaning, too.
With that thought in mind, Haon quickly opened the wardrobe. Inside, it was nearly empty. Three short-sleeved T-shirts, a single thin button-up shirt, two pairs of year-round pants, and a hoodie. For winter outerwear, all he had was a lightweight padded jacket.
He did have some interest in dressing better, but he lacked any fashion sense. He had no idea what colors to buy or how to match them.
Because of that, he only bought clothes in the safest, most neutral colors. He rarely went shopping unless his current clothes were worn out to the point of being unwearable.
What should I wear today?
Even though there weren’t many options, Haon still took his clothes out one by one, trying to decide. If Inho—whose dressing room was packed with new season items every few months—had seen this scene, he probably would’ve wondered what there was to even think about. Most of Haon’s clothes looked nearly identical, differing only slightly in shade.
“This one… no, this one’s better.”
After some thought, he picked a black short-sleeved T-shirt and a gray shirt to go over it. It was autumn now, and the nights were getting a little chilly, so he figured he should bring a light outer layer.
Or maybe… should I wear that instead?
His gaze, still lost in indecision, landed on a shopping bag tucked into the corner of his wardrobe. Inside it were the knit sweater and pants he’d received from the man on his first day here. He had been saving them for the day he returned to his hometown.
After a brief hesitation, Haon grabbed the black shopping bag by the handles. When he pulled out what was inside, the bright clothes seemed to light up his otherwise dull closet.
Thinking about the gloomy weather, Haon decided to wear them today. At the very least, if his outfit was cheerful, maybe it would lift his mood a little. More than that, it was the first time he’d be going out together with the man—he wanted to look presentable.
Dressed in the outfit he’d been gifted, Haon lingered in front of the mirror. After a moment’s consideration, he even spritzed on some of Tae-hwi hyung’s cologne—just a tiny bit, barely noticeable.
