Would Park Woo-jun be mad?
The moment Han-seo’s legs gave out without warning, that was the first thought that flashed through his mind.
And sure enough, Woo-jun was furious.
Not the kind of fury that explodes with shouting or wild gestures, but something colder—icy and suffocating. A rage that froze the air and bled you dry from the inside out.
Han-seo knew all too well how sensitive Woo-jun was when it came to the slightest chance of him getting hurt. So he tried—he really tried—to understand.
“You’ve gone in once. That’s enough.”
“You can’t just decide that! Woo-jun, we need to talk—”
“Dungeon? Never again. Don’t even think about it. You failed.”
“Woo-jun!”
But even with that in mind, this was too much. Way too much.
Tearing off both of their emergency beacons like they were shackles, Woo-jun brushed off the situation with a curt “I’ll file a full report later,” and stormed straight back to the Center, heading straight for the infirmary.
There was dried blood crusted under his chin, a deep bruise darkening his abdomen, and bare feet shriveled inside drenched socks. With every new wound revealed, his expression only sank deeper into a grim, oppressive silence.
“I said I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Try saying something that actually makes sense.”
What the hell is his problem?
Han-seo was floored—frustrated, too—by how Woo-jun was dragging everything along, steamrolling him without listening. Still, he figured he’d lighten the mood a bit before trying to talk things out.
“Come on, compared to how you usually come back looking like roadkill, this is nothing. Just a scratch.”
He barely held back his irritation, scrunching his nose and playfully whining like he was trying to be cute. But Woo-jun’s face was a thundercloud that refused to lift.
“Lee Han-seo. You really think you and I are the same?”
His tone dripped with disbelief.
So what’s the difference, then, you jerk… Must be nice, huh? Being an Esper. Must be so nice. I’m so jealous, fuck…
“I didn’t mean it like that! Baby, Woo-jun, I really am okay. Can you stop looking at me like that? Seriously, now that I’ve gone in once, I’m getting a feel for it. I can do better next time.”
God, if this bastard were just a little less good-looking… Han-seo, who used to charge into anything with blind love, had really mellowed out over the years.
“Next time? Don’t make me laugh. There is no next time. Like I said, you failed. This is over.”
“Woo-jun—”
“We’ve managed just fine without you until now. Why are you being so stubborn all of a sudden?”
“What kind of thing is that to say? Of course I’m worried about you—”
“Screw your worry. I told you not to go in.”
“Aww, so my boyfriend was really upset because I got hurt. I get it, I’m sorry. Next time my legs give out, I’ll just shut up and fall into your arms. That work for you?”
It was a joke—a light smile hiding a line he was unwilling to cross. Up until that moment, Han-seo had just been annoyed. Not truly angry.
But Woo-jun, as if he couldn’t even see how much Han-seo was holding back, crossed another line.
“Lee Han-seo. Are you seriously not hearing a word I’m saying?”
…What?
Getting sucker-punched by a stranger in broad daylight would’ve been less shocking than this.
“…What?”
“If you didn’t hear me, I’ll say it again. Are you seriously ignoring everything I’m saying?”
What the hell did he just say?
That was Woo-jun’s face, and he was carefully checking Han-seo’s injuries from a step away, just like always. But at the same time, he felt like a complete stranger.
“See? You got hurt. And you’ll keep getting hurt.”
This wasn’t anything Han-seo had prepared himself for. Caught off guard, breath hitched in his throat, he couldn’t find a single thing to say.
And then that unfamiliar Woo-jun—definitely not his usual “sweet potato” Woo-jun—spoke in a voice like ice.
“What? Don’t just stand there. Say something. You’re good at that, aren’t you, Lee Han-seo?”
Thud.
The weight in his voice struck Han-seo right in the chest like a punch.
Up until now, even when Woo-jun was mad, it was just pouting or a few teary-eyed complaints.
But this—this was something else entirely.
It was like the climate had shifted overnight. Sirens were wailing in his ears like a hallucination.
“…Woo-jun. So you really never planned on trusting me from the start, did you?”
“You’re just figuring that out now?”
“…Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
If not trusting you is what it takes to keep you safe, then I’ll never trust you as long as I live.
The lips that once whispered endless love curled into a soft, innocent smile.
Han-seo stared blankly, hollow.
Woo-jun picked up the dressing kit the medics had left and gently wiped the blood off his chin. Like nothing had happened. Same warm touch. Same gentle gaze.
The sheer disconnect sent chills racing down Han-seo’s spine.
There was something wrong in the way Woo-jun was looking at him, and there’s no way he didn’t feel it too.
But he didn’t care.
If this was what it took to keep Han-seo safe, so be it.
Still… it hurt.
Why couldn’t Han-seo understand how desperately he wanted to protect him?
As long as Han-seo was safe, that was all that mattered.
Even if he lost control inside the dungeon and died right then and there, that was still better than letting him fight and die by his side.
Even the sound of his dragging footsteps made it painfully clear how hard this was on him.
From the moment they crossed that gate, a storm of emotion had been building inside Woo-jun, soaking him to the bone.
But Han-seo would never know how much he’d held it all in—how hard he fought not to break.
Every time Woo-jun’s eyes landed on the scratch along Han-seo’s jaw—a wound that didn’t belong on such a delicate, youthful face—it felt like his heart was being torn apart.
Han-seo.
He whispered the name, and as if he’d been waiting for it, Han-seo’s small head gave a tiny nod.
That slender neck beneath it looked like it could be wrapped in one hand. With the slightest pressure, Woo-jun could probably snap it. And the monsters lurking in dungeons? They were far stronger than he could ever be.
Humans die far too easily.
And Park Woo-jun would never—never—risk Lee Han-seo’s life.
“To you… maybe I’m just one of many important things in your life, so it doesn’t really register. I get that.”
“……”
“But to me, Han-seo… you’re the only thing I have.”
The difference between them was painfully clear.
They loved each other just as deeply. They leaned on each other just as much. But Han-seo’s world was full of so many things outside of Woo-jun.
He had parents he called every single day. A cousin he pretended to hate but actually got along with just fine. Coworkers who were basically friends. Favorite variety shows. A restaurant he visited like clockwork every week. And countless other little things—tiny, sparkling pieces that filled his life.
Woo-jun didn’t doubt that Han-seo had given him the biggest piece of his world.
And that piece, without a doubt, was called love.
But Woo-jun’s world was completely different.
He lived with an empty, stripped-down heart that clung to only one thing: Lee Han-seo.
Still, strangely enough… he didn’t hate that difference.
He was glad Han-seo wasn’t like him. That he had been raised differently, loved freely, surrounded by warmth.
If someone had to carry all the hatred between them, it should be Woo-jun. If someone had to receive all the love, it should be Han-seo.
So yes—sometimes, he wished Han-seo were more selfish. That he was one of those people who could put their own safety first without a second thought, even if the world turned upside down.
The kind of person who wouldn’t hesitate to use someone like Woo-jun to protect himself. The kind of person who could throw him away without blinking.
Because that—that would be so much better than watching Han-seo get hurt in the name of love.
“I’m begging you. Please… don’t get hurt.”
“Woo-jun…”
“Come on. Get on. Time to go home.”
He crouched and offered his back. Han-seo hesitated for a second, then slowly climbed on.
The warmth, the familiar weight—it was all exactly as it should be. And Park Woo-jun would do anything to protect it.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do. Nothing he wouldn’t give.
Not just the empty bravado of a man in love—his resolve ran far deeper than that.
“…Sorry I got angry. I was just… scared.”
“……”
“Don’t cry, Han-seo.”
Instead of answering, Han-seo only tightened his arms around Woo-jun’s neck.
Whatever it was, it hurt. Deeply.
His unsteady, broken breaths brushed against Woo-jun’s ear, scattering every thought in his mind.
You want to cry every time I get hurt. But me? Every time you get hurt… I just want to die.
He buried the truth deep inside, hiding it away so it wouldn’t make Han-seo cry harder.
And in silence, Woo-jun carried him home.
