In Rion’s mind, Yu-won had always worn a scowling expression. Even if you tried to describe it as softer than that, at best it was just a blank, emotionless face.
He nitpicked at everything Rion did, complained about every little thing he said, and on top of that, he was so annoyingly meticulous when it came to work that Rion couldn’t even find an opening to nag him back.
Rion had assumed that if they lived together, that was all he’d ever see of Yu-won—but the version of Yu-won he saw after they actually started living together was nothing like what he’d expected.
“Hey. You’re about to smash your face into the table. Seriously.”
“Ah… it’s morning.”
It started with how he looked when he woke up. Inside Gates, you could never let your guard down, so Rion had only ever seen Yu-won snatching short naps here and there. But at home, whenever Yu-won opened his eyes in the morning, he was always half-asleep, sitting on the sofa and staring blankly ahead like his soul hadn’t fully returned yet.
“How do you even function normally inside a Gate? It’s honestly kind of amazing.”
“……”
When Rion teased him playfully, Yu-won seemed mildly irritated and tried, in his own way, to pull himself together and look presentable. But no matter how competent he was, Lee Yu-won was still human—there was no way he could stay tense and alert every single moment.
He tried to act fine, but every so often, Rion would catch him zoning out, his head bobbing as he nodded off.
Watching this is actually pretty fun.
In front of Yu-won, Rion pretended not to notice at all, but the moment Yu-won was out of sight, he’d snicker quietly to himself, finding Yu-won’s behavior oddly entertaining.
“You don’t even doze off at the Center or inside Gates. That’s impressive.”
“This is home. When I’m working, even if I’m exhausted, I can’t afford to fall asleep.”
“I guess I’m just used to sleeping less. These days, I can go about two days without sleep and still feel fine. You’ll get used to it too, once you’ve been at the Center long enough.”
Watching the loose, vulnerable side of someone who’d always seemed so strict and almost inhumanly perfect made him feel… fond, somehow. Rion found himself gradually growing accustomed to Yu-won.
Yu-won wasn’t just weak to sleep—every now and then, he showed that same softness in other ways too.
“You can’t eat spicy food?”
“…It’s not that I can’t eat it. I just don’t really like it.”
That was what he said, but his face was visibly flushed red. He really was a terrible liar. As if being bad with spicy food was something to be embarrassed about—why was he trying so hard to pretend otherwise?
Seeing him like that made him feel exactly like a twenty-year-old younger brother.
“They say this drama’s good. Do you watch it? Ah—wait, you probably don’t watch dramas.”
On a weekend afternoon, not even a week after they’d started living together, Rion—now completely at home in Yu-won’s apartment—sat on the sofa flipping through channels before stopping on a drama channel.
“I recognize that actor. I saw a movie he was in before, and it left quite an impression on me.”
“His name was… Kang I-jeong, I think? I don’t watch TV that often either, but I’ve seen him a few times. Apparently, this drama’s set around an Esper Center. I’d been wanting to check it out—since we’re free for once, maybe I’ll watch it.”
“Go ahead.”
“Hey, it’s not like you’ve got anything to do right now either. It’s awkward sitting here alone—watch it with me. Let’s see if they got the details right.”
Rion patted the seat next to him insistently, urging Yu-won to sit down. After a moment of hesitation, Yu-won took the seat beside him, and the two of them watched the TV together.
“Whoa, the CG’s insane. Though they definitely made it flashier than it really is.”
“Well, it is a drama.”
Since Rion usually spent weekends and holidays loitering around the Center under the excuse that he had no choice but to stay in the dormitory anyway, spending a weekend like this felt a little unfamiliar.
But since he’d decided to live with Yu-won to try changing their relationship, maybe it was okay to set everything aside for now and just accept this moment as it was.
“Oh? So the Center Director’s the mastermind? The power-hungry type? Ours doesn’t care about power at all.”
They’d started watching casually, but the drama turned out to be pretty engaging, and before long, Rion found himself fully immersed.
Yu-won, sitting beside him, seemed just as absorbed. Then, during one particular scene, the two of them reacted very differently.
[When you’re young, it feels like you can do anything. You charge ahead boldly, make a fuss, shout big words, run around everywhere—and it makes you feel like you might actually pull something off.]
[What exactly are you trying to say?]
[The recklessness and bravado of youth—it’s all well and good. But that’s what becoming an adult is. Adults don’t get to flare up over every little thing or raise their voices whenever they want.]
The Center Director in the drama, framed as the mastermind, spoke with deliberate gravitas. The cold background music underscoring the scene made it clear this was an important moment, drawing both of them even deeper into the drama.
“What kind of nonsense is that? Being an adult doesn’t mean you suddenly reach enlightenment and stay unfazed no matter what happens.”
“That’s exactly how adults should be. Otherwise, why would there even be a phrase like ‘acting like an adult’?”
They’d watched the same scene, yet their impressions couldn’t have been more different. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, but as always, Rion countered Yu-won’s words with a serious expression and tone.
“Then what does ‘acting like an adult’ even mean?”
“What do you think it means? Acting mature, obviously.”
“No, I mean what does ‘mature’ actually mean? Just lowering your voice, setting the mood, and saying passive-aggressive crap like that—does that make you an adult?”
Dragged into an impromptu debate, Yu-won straightened his posture. The drama he’d been watching so intently just moments ago abruptly became background noise.
“I hate that kind of thing.”
“Isn’t that better than spilling your emotions everywhere and getting tossed around by them?”
“All he’s doing is posturing. How is that hiding his emotions? You can practically hear him sneering, ‘This is why you’re just a kid.’ If adults really are supposed to suppress their emotions, then they shouldn’t be letting such childish feelings show either.”
Rion shook his head as he vehemently rejected Yu-won’s argument.
“And I really don’t like the word ‘mature.’ What’s with drawing lines about who’s an adult and who isn’t? As long as you take responsibility for your work, handle your own business, and don’t cause trouble for others, isn’t that enough?”
“But generally speaking, there’s an image people associate with adults.”
“And who decides that? Anyway, I don’t care about that stuff. And when someone’s really an adult, it shows without them having to flaunt it.”
Rion flatly dismissed Yu-won’s words.
“I don’t know about you, but that’s how it is for me. I don’t even know if that kind of thing counts as being mature, and I hate it when someone obviously tries too hard to look mature. It just looks pathetic.”
“……”
Yu-won clamped his mouth shut, his expression looking genuinely shaken. After a long silence, he muttered something under his breath, but it didn’t reach Rion’s ears.
***
“Anyway, that’s what happened.”
“Kuh… kuhuhuh….”
“Is that funny?”
After hearing the whole story, Jin-ha doubled over, clutching his stomach as he snickered. Rion’s tale must’ve been extremely entertaining.
“There were a lot of unexpected sides to him, and well… like Tae-hwan sunbae and Hee-soo sunbae said, maybe sticking together and actually trying something—whether you like it or not—is the answer. You end up learning things you didn’t know, and even developing a bit of affection?”
“So? What’s your takeaway?”
“My takeaway?”
At Jin-ha’s question, Rion thought seriously. After living with Yu-won for a week, he’d come to feel that Yu-won wasn’t as rude or insufferable as he’d originally thought.
The argument they’d had over matching rates—voices raised and tempers flaring—had weighed heavily on him. He’d started to think that maybe he really was doing something wrong, and that was what prompted him to try changing his mindset this time.
Maybe that was why, once he resolved to experience Yu-won again without prejudice and stepped into that apartment, life with him turned out to be more enjoyable than he’d expected.
“I haven’t learned enough to say anything definitive yet, but compared to how I felt up until last month…”
Not talking about work, not going into Gates, and just having ordinary, everyday conversations had helped a lot too.
“He can be blunt, and sometimes the way he talks gets on your nerves, but I don’t think he hates me. Um… maybe he really is kind of indifferent, though?”
“Is that so?”
“He responds when I talk to him, but I’m almost always the one starting the conversation. And sometimes it feels like he’s deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.”
“Oh… avoiding your eyes?”
“Yeah, like if we make eye contact for more than three seconds, something terrible will happen. I don’t plan on staring at him awkwardly either, so it’s fine.”
Sure, it still stung a little—but he was getting used to Yu-won now. And compared to before, when even holding a three-minute conversation had been difficult, things had improved a lot.
“Still, it feels like there’s some hope. It’s not like before, when I thought, ‘Wow, this guy’s completely hopeless.’”
“Then what does it feel like now?”
Jin-ha asked again, looking oddly excited. Rion wondered when Jin-ha had started taking such an interest in Yu-won, but since Jin-ha had always been curious about everything, he didn’t dwell on it.
“He’s kind of… cute.”
Rion said it while recalling Yu-won’s ears turning red. Seeing Yu-won in everyday life—as just a twenty-year-old guy—made him seem, little by little, kind of cute.
