#163
The hand grasping Lee Han-sol’s forearm was cold. Ki Baek-woo smiled awkwardly again. His gaze was damp and dark, trembling with tension. Lee Han-sol held his shallow breath.
If I’m not the only one who’s disgustingly pathetic, I can endure this. If I’m not the only hopeless idiot. If Ki Baek-woo is just as foolish and miserable as I am…
It might be okay, Lee Han-sol thought. The shitty things, the wretched things, would be somewhat bearable. Perhaps. Just like when they were younger, when all they had was each other, yet they always managed to survive somehow.
Lee Han-sol lowered his head slightly and looked at the empty space between his and Ki Baek-woo’s knees.
“Fine,” he nodded weakly, as if resigned.
“…It’s not over. We’re not over yet, Ki Baek-woo.”
“…Yeah.”
This time, it was Lee Han-sol who avoided eye contact. He felt extremely strange. The emotion draped like a spiderweb between depression, anxiety, and trembling had blurred boundaries, making him uncomfortable. Out of awkwardness, he deliberately acted nonchalant and shook off Ki Baek-woo’s hand. He frowned and smiled. “But,” he said, his voice becoming slightly lighter.
“For someone who can’t handle hearing it’s over, how do you expect to handle being a second?”
“…I’ll somehow manage that…”
“A guy who creepily shows up and gets jealous even when everything’s nearly finished, what? You want to be third? If you’re trying to act cool, just ask me to make you my sex partner, why not?”
Ki Baek-woo silently moved his lips slightly before lowering his gaze. Seeing his complexion turn ashen, Lee Han-sol snorted. Since the words “even being a sex partner would be fine” didn’t immediately come out, Han-sol thought incredulously that Baek-woo’s Maginot Line seemed to be being the third man. He couldn’t even guess what kind of calculation that was. So Lee Han-sol just raised one corner of his mouth and flicked Ki Baek-woo’s cheek, where tears were drying.
“I know because I became your second, but a weak-hearted person like you could never handle it. So before you really become someone’s second, come back after washing your face and getting your head straight.”
Ki Baek-woo’s gloomy expression crumbled into a dumbfounded look.
***
That night was long. The two of them lay awake with their eyes open until dawn.
Looking at the window turning blue with daylight, Lee Han-sol thought with some annoyance, I started this to help Ki Baek-woo sleep, so why am I staying up all night too? Still, he didn’t scold Ki Baek-woo again. Ki Baek-woo’s hands, which had been cold when embracing Han-sol’s back, were gradually warming up. Han-sol, caught up in the mood, thought that this much might be okay for today. He felt like a deflated balloon. It was a strange sense of liberation, empty yet comfortable.
The two of them lay on their sides on the narrow single bed, holding each other tightly the entire time. Ki Baek-woo held Han-sol because he wanted to, and Han-sol did so reluctantly because he felt he would fall off if he lay comfortably.
Many words were exchanged throughout the night. No, actually, it was Ki Baek-woo one-sidedly pouring out his innermost feelings. Lee Han-sol had never seen Ki Baek-woo talk so much in his life. And it gave him chills.
‘No wonder you’re always jealous, thinking such things inside.’
It might be called jealousy, but it’s really obsession and compulsion, Lee Han-sol silently clicked his tongue. The ancient stories Ki Baek-woo frantically spilled out, intoxicated by an incomprehensible urgency. The whole time listening, Han-sol internally shuddered.
‘Isn’t this guy completely insane?’
That was a bit ironic for him to think, and Lee Han-sol knew it. But he couldn’t think of any other expression, so he didn’t have much choice. Besides, being crazy himself didn’t mean he couldn’t call another crazy person crazy.
Anyway, this all happened after Han-sol cut off Baek-woo’s nonsensical party about being a “second” or whatever. Lee Han-sol abruptly dragged the deflated Ki Baek-woo to the bathroom. Then he made him wash his face thoroughly, as if dealing with a child.
“Hmph, do it. Hmph!”
“Ugh, I’ll, mmph, I’ll do it myself, hyung…!”
“Raise your left hand if water touches your wound and hurts.”
“No, pfft…!”
Finding Ki Baek-woo’s embarrassed struggling amusing, Lee Han-sol taunted him slightly.
“You’re always dripping tears and snot while whining, so why pretend to be dignified now? You think you cry beautifully like an actor?”
Ki Baek-woo finally seemed to run out of words, stopping his resistance that barely qualified as such. Taking advantage of this, Lee Han-sol quickly finished the task and turned off the faucet. He swiftly pulled out a dry towel and rubbed Ki Baek-woo’s dripping face. It was a rough touch, almost like hitting rather than being kind, but Ki Baek-woo stood still and let Han-sol handle his face, perhaps because it was Han-sol doing it.
Lee Han-sol dragged Ki Baek-woo’s arm out of the bathroom, just as he had when going in. He looked like he would drag him all the way to the bed and order him to lie down, but unexpectedly, his hand soon let go.
Leaving Ki Baek-woo behind, he rummaged through the bedside table drawer and pulled out spare dressing bandages. The recovery team staff who had visited that morning to check his condition had given them to him, saying, “Just in case, I’ll give you some bandages. If the wound suddenly opens and bleeds like last time, replace it with a new one first.”
‘This would be better with Jung Yi-dam’s healer… it could heal immediately… Well, if he doesn’t want it, there’s nothing we can do… Anyway, try not to touch the wound if possible.’
The recovery team staff had mumbled those words before leaving the hospital room, giving Lee Han-sol a meaningful look. They seemed to hope he would persuade Ki Baek-woo to receive Jung Yi-dam’s treatment. Recalling this, Lee Han-sol slowly turned around.
“What are you doing, Ki Baek-woo? Why are you just standing there?”
Ki Baek-woo was standing still where Lee Han-sol had released his arm. Like a doll that couldn’t move on its own. Lee Han-sol rudely looked him up and down. The black hair that had grown long and shaggy while they were apart, the dressing bandage that had become tattered during face washing, and the foolish expression that made his thoughts unreadable.
Clicking his tongue at Ki Baek-woo’s pitiful appearance, he held out the bandage.
“Go over there and change this.”
“…Ah, me?”
Lee Han-sol was dumbfounded that Ki Baek-woo would ask such a stupid question just because he’d helped wash his face once. Sensing this, Ki Baek-woo immediately adopted a polite attitude and reached out with both hands to take the dressing bandage.
“Yes, of course I should do it myself.”
“Go to that corner, turn your back so I can’t see you, and change it.”
Because seeing you injured stresses me out. Naturally, Lee Han-sol didn’t say that. Nevertheless, Ki Baek-woo simply nodded and said, “Okay,” then went to find a corner. Lee Han-sol’s disgruntled eyes briefly glanced at this obedient attitude. He’s probably having all sorts of weird delusions inside while pretending to be so well-behaved. That’s what he thought.
He felt newly embarrassed about the past when he believed Ki Baek-woo was a pure and innocent boy without any ulterior motives. He clicked his tongue and picked up the blanket and pillow that had fallen to the floor, arranging the bed. Glancing out the window, the sky was still pitch black. Though he didn’t know the exact time, it was clearly a time when it wouldn’t be strange for him and Ki Baek-woo to lie down on the bed together.
“Ki Baek-woo.”
Lee Han-sol beckoned to Ki Baek-woo, who had already quietly approached. I’ll be generous today, he thought to himself as he pointed to the bed with his finger.
“Get up there and lie down.”
I’ll lie on the outside. He didn’t bother to add that.
Ki Baek-woo just stood still, blinking slowly, his thoughts unreadable.
“Why are you standing there again instead of lying down? Didn’t we finish talking? Do you have something else to say?”
Ki Baek-woo’s voice, which seemed hesitant, came out low and cracked.
“Hyung.”
“What.”
“I’m sorry to ask again, but… you and Hunter Choi Tae-hyuk really aren’t… that kind of relationship, right?”
As if Lee Han-sol’s previous answer hadn’t been enough, Ki Baek-woo’s eyes were still half-submerged. His face was uncharacteristically resolute, as if determined to hear an explicit denial. Beyond repeating the same topic, Lee Han-sol genuinely couldn’t understand this suspicion and asked in return.
“What kind of mentality makes you link the landlord, no, Choi Tae-hyun with me? Even delusions should have limits.”
“Choi Tae-hyuk said you were seeing his brother…”
“What? He not only blabbed about my new address but also spread that bullshit? What kind of crazy person is he? Despite being so eager to badmouth me, how could he spread rumors that his brother is dating me? He pretends to care about his brother, but damn, this is ridiculous. Why does that bastard treat me like this? Whenever he sees me, he calls me trash, substandard, and all that crap, constantly attacking my appearance. At this point, isn’t he mentally ill? Such a menace to society should be forcibly confined to a psychiatric ward.”
Lee Han-sol rattled off curses like a rap at the inevitable mention of Choi Tae-hyuk. Then he suddenly thought:
Seeing that even Choi Tae-hyuk has weird delusions like a paranoid patient, is being mentally ill a requirement for the protagonists in this game? Starting with Jung Yi-dam, how did they all end up like this? Why are all the dating game protagonists abnormal?
‘As expected, destroying this stupid game is the only answer,’ Lee Han-sol had reached this random conclusion when Ki Baek-woo casually asked.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
