“And what else?”
“What else?”
“Tell me everything you want to eat. I’ll make it for you tomorrow.”
“Ah… well…”
Kwon Jae-jin turned his head, answering reluctantly. He was just saying whatever came to mind, hoping to get Eui-woo to sleep faster.
“Braised potatoes, pan-fried tofu, gochujang bulgogi…”
“Alright. Got it. I’ll remember, haha.”
Seo Eui-woo laughed, his voice light and genuinely pleased, before pulling Jae-jin into an even tighter embrace. Like hugging a giant stuffed bear, he wedged Jae-jin between his legs, holding him securely.
His gaze lifted, sharp and clear.
Those focused, piercing gray eyes held no trace of sleepiness.
“Jae-jin.”
“What now.”
“Do you still love me?”
“…”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“Oh, come on…”
Jae-jin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting for a moment before lowering.
“Stop saying pointless things and just go to sleep. Seriously, sleep.”
“Answer properly.”
Eui-woo’s smile deepened, his eyes curving gently.
That soft arc of his gaze was affectionate yet commanding, making it impossible to ignore.
His stare was almost unbearably heavy, pressing down on Jae-jin.
And his eyes—bottomless, unreadable—felt like they could swallow him whole.
For a brief moment, Eui-woo seemed… different.
Maybe grown was the right word for it.
“…”
Jae-jin hesitated.
He thought about brushing it off like before—giving a simple answer, the same way he had listed off food. Braised potatoes. Pan-fried tofu. Gochujang bulgogi. Something easy, something to put him to sleep.
But the words wouldn’t come out.
The feelings buried deep in his chest had thickened over time, condensed into something so dense that even squeezing out a single drop felt exhausting.
Jae-jin had no idea how to put this brick-heavy mess into simple words.
He had never even tried before.
Even when he opened his mouth, all that came out were weary sighs.
In just a few seconds, a hundred thoughts ran through his mind.
Should he pretend he hadn’t heard the question? Should he change the subject and deflect? Maybe he should just fake exhaustion and act like he had fallen asleep…
After a long hesitation, he finally managed to pull out just a single crumb of an answer.
“Ha… Honestly, dying would probably be easier.”
“You’ve already died once, Jae-jin.”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying it.”
Dying was easier.
Easier than changing his mind.
“You got your answer, so that’s enough, right? Now, go to sleep. Shut your mouth, close your eyes.”
Jae-jin pulled a hand from under the blanket and pressed it firmly over Eui-woo’s mouth, pushing his chin up.
But Eui-woo didn’t seem fazed at all.
Instead, he let out a quiet chuckle directly into Jae-jin’s palm.
Warm breath and the soft curve of his lips brushed against Jae-jin’s skin, the sensation sinking in vividly.
“You know… I think I get it now.”
“Eui-woo, just go to sleep…”
“I understand now. Why you always called me a kid. Why you said I was immature.”
Eui-woo’s voice dropped to a deep whisper as he pressed his face into Jae-jin’s hand.
He kissed lightly between his fingers, lifting his eyes.
The dark gray irises burned with an overwhelming intensity.
“Until now, just being with you made me feel purely happy. Like an excited little kid.”
So thrilled, so giddy, so utterly lost in the joy of it all…
“But now… I feel like I’m melting. Like I’m dissolving into you.”
“And deep inside me, something is pooling—something thick, something sticky, something I never expected. It’s settling at the bottom, like a weight dragging me down.”
“…”
“It’s not just happiness anymore. It’s… something sharper. Almost like a sickness.”
Eui-woo, who had been murmuring in a quiet, thoughtful tone, suddenly shook his shoulders and let out a rough laugh.
He had always thought that normal people, the ones who dated so casually, must have had it so easy.
That they must have been happy.
That he envied them.
But now, looking at it from the inside, he realized—it wasn’t so simple.
Now that he had become aware of the weight pressing down on him, the depth of his feelings stretched like an ocean trench, reaching down to something raw and fundamental.
“When I think back on it, everything you said was right.”
“…”
“I was way too naive, wasn’t I?”
Eui-woo pulled Jae-jin into a deep embrace and took a slow, measured breath.
His body rose and fell, the heat of his breathing palpable.
For a moment, he simply held still, before exhaling and closing his eyes, his usual smile fading into something quieter.
“I’m done talking. I’ll sleep now.”
“…Ah, yeah. Okay.”
“Good night, Jae-jin.”
“Yeah. You too…”
Only then did Seo Eui-woo finally close his eyes and shut his mouth.
Darkness and silence settled over the bedroom in an instant.
But even as dawn approached, Jae-jin still felt the lingering echo of a voice whispering in his ears.
Like a sound submerged deep underwater, Eui-woo’s voice resonated—I love you, Jae-jin. I love you…
***
The next morning started off perfectly.
He awoke to a breathtaking sunrise, its golden light filtering through the violet mist of early dawn.
It was an unusually serene morning, and for once, he hadn’t dreamed at all.
While he lay in quiet contemplation, Eui-woo woke up shortly after, immediately pouncing on him—pressing him down and tickling him relentlessly.
They washed up, brewed a strong cup of coffee, and Eui-woo busied himself setting up breakfast.
A new house. A new bedroom. A new kitchen.
Every corner of the space was immaculately arranged, tailored exactly to Jae-jin’s preferences.
Despite being in an unfamiliar place, it felt strangely comforting—like a home he had already lived in for years.
For the first time in a long while, it felt like they had reclaimed a piece of normal life.
A few days ago, the rain was pouring like hell, but today the weather’s perfect.
Maybe he should suggest going out for a bit after breakfast.
And now that he thought about it, it was about time he checked in on the situation at the Center.
He had disappeared right after the ranking test, and after the battle, they had immediately jumped coordinates without explanation.
It might be better to make the first move before things spiraled into unnecessary conflict.
Well, there’s no time to sit around doing nothing anyway…
The creature wave was real.
By now, even the top brass had to be on high alert.
No one in their right mind would dare to antagonize Eui-woo with an impending disaster at their doorstep.
No matter their personal feelings, they had no choice but to smile and extend a handshake.
In fact, if any commander had a shred of sense, they would swallow their pride and welcome Eui-woo with open arms.
And then, there’s the matter of guiding…
Did Jae-jin’s guiding truly enhance an esper’s abilities?
It was something he needed to verify—clearly, undeniably.
He downed the rest of his coffee, the caffeine sharpening his focus.
From the kitchen, the scent of food drifted in, warm and inviting.
Last night, he had offhandedly mentioned wanting a bowl of hot soup, not thinking much of it.
Yet here was Eui-woo, standing over the stove, simmering a large pot of galbitang—beef short rib soup, cut into generous chunks.
The side dishes he had casually listed—braised potatoes, pan-fried tofu, gochujang bulgogi—were being plated neatly, while the rice cooker steamed with freshly cooked white rice.
Jae-jin placed his empty coffee cup in the sink and casually approached Eui-woo’s side.
Cooking had always been his role.
Eui-woo’s role had been to constantly interfere with him while he cooked.
And yet, here they were—the roles completely reversed.
“Jae-jin, breakfast is almost ready.”
Seo Eui-woo turned to look at Kwon Jae-jin, an apron tied around his waist.
For a moment, Jae-jin’s breath hitched—like he had tripped over something—and then suddenly, it cleared.
The instant their eyes met, an inexplicable sense of unease crept in.
Those clear gray irises, set deep beneath sharp brows.
He had seen Eui-woo’s eyes countless times before, yet somehow, they felt different now—enough to make his pulse quicken.
Eui-woo’s gaze curved into a smile, smooth and effortless.
It was like radiant darkness—both warm and chilling at once.
His pale skin, made even starker by the contrast of his dark hair, looked like an ink-washed canvas, vivid and striking. Almost sensual.
“Can you taste the ribs for me? See if they’re cooked through?”
“Huh? Oh… yeah, sure.”
Jae-jin, momentarily dazed, turned to look for utensils.
But before he could move, Eui-woo used his ability to bring a spoon to his hand.
A clean, unused spoon drifted smoothly into his grasp, and instead of simply guiding it to the pot, Eui-woo reached in himself, picking out the most succulent, glistening piece of meat.
He could’ve easily moved the spoon with his ability alone—but he didn’t.
“Wait a second.”
Eui-woo exhaled softly over the meat, cooling it with careful attention.
The small gesture made it obvious how much he was paying attention to every detail.
“Okay, open up.”
“…Ah.”
Jae-jin opened his mouth, but his body instinctively tensed.
Every second stretched unnaturally long, like time itself had slowed.
His senses heightened—sight, smell, touch, everything sharpened.
It was such a simple, mundane moment.
Just tasting food.
Just checking the seasoning of a piece of meat while preparing breakfast.
Yet, somehow, it felt like something more.
Eui-woo’s face burned into his retinas, his presence strikingly vivid.
The rich aroma made his mouth water before the food even touched his tongue.
And the moment the rib met his teeth, his taste buds reacted instantly.
The meat was perfectly tender, pulling apart effortlessly.
Soft yet chewy, light yet flavorful.
A taste worth remembering.
“…It’s good. It’s cooked perfectly. Really… uh, really good.”
“Yeah? Guess the cooking turned out well, then. Somehow…”
“Somehow?”
“Somehow, the food looks especially appetizing today. Usually, it all just looks like chunks of wood to me.”
