Inho stood still under the shower, letting the water pour over him in silence.
He remained motionless, thoroughly soaked, his expression distant as though lost in deep thought. He didn’t move a muscle, seemingly uninterested in actually washing himself.
His head tilted slightly to one side, eyes vacant as he stared at the water droplets clinging to the wall. The atmosphere around him was completely different from when he was with Haon. Today, he seemed especially downcast.
Inho finished his shower slowly, cooling his heavy thoughts with the cold water. He moved sluggishly, even checking the time—something he usually didn’t bother with. It was almost time to head out.
Today was the day of the scheduled family gathering.
After stepping out of the shower booth, he read the message from Jang Eun-young. He only checked the meeting place and time, ignoring the rest of the long, emotionally verbose message.
Originally, they were supposed to meet for dinner, but due to Chairman Seo’s work schedule, the appointment had been moved up to lunchtime.
“Couldn’t he just take it easy for once?”
Inho muttered softly and shook his head. He found it fascinating that his father still clung so fiercely to work despite his age.
He wiped the water from his face with a towel, pressing gently around his eyes. His vision ached, probably from the lack of sleep.
“Haah…”
Letting out a shallow sigh, he rubbed the corner of his lips and stepped out of the bathroom. Expecting Haon to be lying on the bed, he instinctively wore a faint smile.
But Haon was nowhere to be seen.
Before Inho had entered the bathroom, Haon had been lying on the bed, eating fruit. Thinking he might have gone downstairs for a moment, Inho headed to the living room to look for him.
“Haon-ssi?”
Even when he called out, there was no response. Haon wasn’t on the living room sofa, nor was he in the kitchen.
Beyond the window of the empty living room, thick gray clouds blanketed the sky. It looked like it might rain soon.
Inho’s already low energy began to sink even deeper, weighed down by the gloomy weather. And now, with Haon absent from sight, the faint smile lingering on his lips completely faded away.
“Haon-ssi.”
Quickening his steps, Inho opened the door to the laundry room to check inside.
Haon wasn’t there either, and a faint crease formed between Inho’s brows.
Haon was always the type to announce even a quick trip to the bathroom—vanishing without a word like this was uncharacteristic. An odd sense of unease began to creep in.
Inho immediately went to the front door to check for Haon’s shoes. Thankfully, his worn sneakers were still sitting on the floor by the entrance. That meant he was still in the house.
“Inho-ssi?”
Just then, Haon’s voice rang out from afar.
Haon appeared with a puzzled look, walking down the hallway from the guest room. It seemed he had only just heard Inho calling for him.
“Were you looking for me?”
Inho gave a small chuckle as he looked at Haon’s flustered face.
“Yeah, I got out of the shower and couldn’t see you anywhere.”
Why hadn’t he thought to check Haon’s room? He’d even looked in the laundry room.
Inho silently laughed at himself as he walked over to Haon, amused by his own ridiculous behavior. He had genuinely panicked for a moment when he didn’t see Haon. Even though it had only been a brief absence, he’d been more startled than he’d like to admit.
“I was just in the room for a bit. Wanted to grab something.”
“What was it?”
Inho asked with a light chuckle. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous his own reaction seemed, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“It’s nothing… really,” Haon mumbled, walking closely beside him.
Rather than press for more details, Inho simply took Haon’s hand and led him to the kitchen. After seating him at the dining table, he instinctively studied his expression.
“What should we have for dinner?”
“Ah… are you coming back right after lunch?”
Inho nodded.
He hadn’t originally planned to go, but after even Seo Taewan showed up at the house and irritated him, he couldn’t just stay silent. Now that he was sharing his space with Haon, their uninvited visits felt even more intrusive.
“Think about what you’d like to eat tonight.”
There was no need to decide right away. Haon’s eyes darted around as he started to seriously consider the options. Watching him deliberate so earnestly was adorable, so Inho just sat quietly and observed.
Haon couldn’t seem to decide immediately, and after a long pause, he blinked slowly and looked at Inho.
“I’ll cook.”
“You will?”
“Yeah. I’ll make something delicious for you today.”
Haon held back the words, so cheer up, and instead tightened his grip on Inho’s hand.
Inho hadn’t said anything aloud, but Haon could sense how uncomfortable he was about the family meeting. Knowing the tense relationship he had with his siblings made it even more apparent.
“And also… this…”
Haon hesitated, slipping his hand into the pocket of his pants. He seemed shy as he fumbled around, unsure whether to take it out.
What in the world could it be? Inho watched Haon with curious eyes.
Finally, after some wavering, Haon pulled out a small piece of origami paper.
“I made this myself.”
While Inho had been showering, Haon had quietly been folding paper in the room.
“It’s a sea otter.”
He added an explanation, worried Inho might not recognize it. This part was the head, and the little bits attached underneath were the hands.
“I just… wanted to give it to you. You don’t have to keep it or anything.”
In truth, he had made it with the hope that it would bring good luck—a charm of sorts. He’d felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to buy Inho the sea otter plush he liked.
But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say any of that out loud. It felt silly to him, childish even, and that made him hesitate.
Just as he started to wonder if it had been a mistake to make it in the first place, the gentle smile on Inho’s face reassured him.
“You know how to fold something like this?”
Inho took the piece of origami Haon handed him and examined it closely, turning the small paper this way and that.
The folds were neat and clean—just looking at it, he could immediately tell it was a sea otter. The small paper shell clutched to its belly made it even more recognizable.
“You’re really good with your hands, Haon-ssi. I’m hopeless at this kind of thing.”
“No, it’s easy. Once you know how to fold it, it’s nothing special.”
When Inho offered the compliment with genuine sincerity, Haon’s lips twitched at the corners, unable to hold back a smile. Seeing Haon smile made Inho’s own grin widen even more.
“I can think of this as you, right?”
Still focused on the paper otter, Inho leaned in and kissed Haon lightly.
Haon, welcoming the affectionate gesture, puckered his lips and nodded eagerly.
With a grin, Inho gently bit Haon’s smiling lips and whispered, “Thank you.”
Haon wanted to insist again that it was really nothing, but he didn’t get the chance.
A soft tongue slipped into his mouth before he could make a sound.
Instead, Haon clung to Inho, continuing the kiss just as Inho had taught him.
He had grown to love kissing. It was still a little embarrassing, but once their lips met, he couldn’t help but want more.
Even the shy, muffled sounds that came between their mouths now felt sweet to him.
Every time Inho filled his mouth, he felt completely, intimately connected.
It was like Inho was filling the empty space inside him with warmth.
“Haon-ssi.”
Breaking the kiss, Inho reached for Haon’s wrist, still resting on his shoulder. Haon parted his lips slightly and answered with a silent nod through his eyes.
Inho brushed a kiss onto Haon’s eyelid like sealing a mark, then tugged on his hand and gently bit the tip of his index finger.
“Don’t forget me.”
He pressed the bitten finger down slowly, following the little habit he’d developed—leaving a mark so Haon wouldn’t forget him.
“I won’t.”
Haon giggled and planted a kiss on Inho’s lips. His expression radiated absolute certainty.
Even if he were told to forget, he knew he never could. Inho was already deeply engraved in his heart.
“I’ll never forget. Ever.”
So there was no way he’d ever be forgotten.
After Inho left, Haon, now alone, spent time tidying up the house.
He hadn’t been able to focus on cleaning properly when Inho was around because Inho always tried to help.
This was his job, one he was being paid for—why wouldn’t Inho let him do it? Every time Haon brought that up, Inho would take over anyway, claiming that the person paying should have the final say.
“Vacuuming’s done, laundry… check the fridge next…”
Haon glanced around the spacious home, folding down his fingers one by one as he went over the list of chores.
In the middle of all that, he caught sight of the finger Inho had bitten and broke into a silly grin.
Disappointed that the bite mark had already faded, Haon absentmindedly rubbed his index finger. Then, suddenly struck by a sense of emptiness, he found himself staring blankly at the long staircase.
It had only been two or three days of being constantly by Inho’s side, yet without him, the house now felt even larger. The absence of the voice that had constantly spoken to him left him oddly bored.
It was strange. Since moving to Seoul, he had gotten used to living alone and never felt lonely.
“Ah…”
Patting his chest as if to soothe himself, Haon moved quickly at the sound of music coming from the laundry room—the chime signaling the dryer had finished its cycle.
He pulled out the freshly dried clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket. With laundry to fold and dinner to plan, he had to keep moving today. There was no time to dwell on loneliness.
“What should I make…”
As he gathered the clothes, he mulled over possible dinner menus.
Inho had been eating far less lately, so Haon gave it extra thought. Ever since their visit to the aquarium, Inho hadn’t shown much enthusiasm for meals. It was likely due to stress.
Haon, wanting to make something delicious and energizing, carried the laundry basket out to the living room. He sat on the couch and began folding the clean clothes one by one, carefully smoothing them out.
He set aside the outerwear separately, planning to hang it up in the closet later.
While smoothing the wrinkles on the windbreaker Inho had given him, he smiled softly—then tilted his head in curiosity.
“What’s this…?”
There was something in the jacket pocket. He’d forgotten to check it before tossing it in the wash.
Inside was a wilted flower petal. It looked like a white cosmos.
Had it gotten in there by chance while they were hanging out at Hangang Park? Haon blinked, puzzled, but soon returned to folding the rest of the clothes.
Looking out the window and sensing the rain was near, he picked up the pace.
As for the mystery petal, he tossed it into the trash without much thought.
