Chapter 141
Do-heon slowly returned to his chair. He closed his eyes while catching the faint scent of Cheong-yeon lingering in the air.
Suddenly, a random forgotten memory surfaced.
‘You’re home late today.’
In his memory, Cheong-yeon was hurriedly coming down from the second floor upon hearing Do-heon just returning from work.
Do-heon had frowned watching him rush down, skipping two or three steps at a time.
‘Why aren’t you asleep?’
‘I was waiting to see you before sleeping. Have you eaten dinner?’
Cheong-yeon’s eyes were half-closed, as if he’d been dozing. He was wearing pajamas. Do-heon’s gaze lingered briefly on his soft, flushed cheeks.
He then shifted his attention to the staircase, which looked dangerously steep with its high steps.
‘I ate.’
‘Ah, then…’
‘And there’s no need to wait for me to get home. From now on, go to bed first without coming out.’
At Do-heon’s words, Cheong-yeon’s drowsy eyes gradually opened fully.
As if he had something to say, Cheong-yeon’s lips moved several times. But after hesitating, all that came out was a bland “Yes.”
‘What did you do today?’
The two climbed to the second floor together, matching their pace. Cheong-yeon brightened noticeably, pleased that Do-heon had asked, and began chattering.
‘After you left for work this morning, I went back to my room and lay in bed a bit longer. Ah… but I didn’t just lie in bed all day.’
Cheong-yeon added, giving Do-heon a sidelong glance.
‘In the afternoon, Grandmother asked to see me, so we had a meal together and went for a walk. While I was out, I also bought clothes for the next gathering. I got something for you too. I’ll show you later.’
Even without any encouragement from the other person, Cheong-yeon diligently explained his day.
‘When I was coming home, I got a call saying new paintings had arrived at the gallery, so I stopped by there too… I was fairly busy. Fairly.’
Cheong-yeon emphasized the last word in particular and naturally followed Do-heon as he entered his room.
‘You must be tired.’
Do-heon said as he took off his jacket upon entering the bedroom.
‘Not really. Hehe.’
Despite his words, Cheong-yeon’s voice carried an undisguised languor.
‘By the way, Do-heon, what are you doing this weekend? Tomorrow’s Saturday…’
‘Going to work. Something came up that needs to be handled this week.’
‘…So you’ll be home late?’
‘I’ll know when I see.’
‘What about Sunday?’
‘I’ll rest, of course.’
Do-heon loosened his tie while observing Cheong-yeon’s long eyelashes, which fluttered slowly with drowsiness.
Cheong-yeon had seemed tired every time Do-heon saw him lately, so he clearly needed rest.
‘Ah. Right. Rest.’
Cheong-yeon nodded several times in agreement. His eyes drooped momentarily, but a smile quickly returned.
‘But what do you do to relax on your days off? Don’t you watch musicals? A famous international musical company is performing in Korea. Everyone says it’s really good. The front seats are probably sold out, but maybe the back…’
Cheong-yeon sat at the edge of Do-heon’s bed, chattering away.
Do-heon, who was about to take off his shirt, instinctively reached out when he noticed white dust stuck in Cheong-yeon’s disheveled hair.
‘Oh…’
But before his hand could make contact, Cheong-yeon’s eyes widened, and he pulled back.
‘……’
‘……’
Do-heon’s hand paused in mid-air for a moment before withdrawing.
‘S-suddenly reaching out… It’s not that I dislike you. I was just, too surprised.’
Cheong-yeon rambled, frozen with an expression of not knowing what to do.
Do-heon’s gaze lingered on Cheong-yeon’s plump, soft lips and the collarbone exposed by his slipping pajamas.
He pressed his lips into a straight line to suppress a sudden impulse. Then he clenched his fist.
‘Go back to your room now.’
Do-heon said in a low voice, barely containing his instincts. Cheong-yeon hesitated briefly before standing up.
‘Good night, Do-heon.’
Cheong-yeon sulkily said goodbye and fled Do-heon’s room.
Looking back, Cheong-yeon never seemed to follow him into his room after that. He would always talk at the doorway, or enter and leave when Do-heon wasn’t there.
If he had said something different instead of telling Cheong-yeon to go back to his room, would things have changed?
But what else could he have said? If he had kept Cheong-yeon in the room, he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself. He would have ended up covering those chattering lips with kisses and then taking him right there. Even forcefully.
Cheong-yeon had consistently feared Do-heon’s touch, and treating him so carelessly would have been absolutely wrong.
While he never had such reactions toward other Omegas, controlling his emotions and the situation was particularly difficult with Cheong-yeon. On days when he detected even a hint of Cheong-yeon’s pheromones, his unrefined, violent impulses would grow stronger.
Cheong-yeon liked him. And Cheong-yeon didn’t understand how his presence stimulated an Alpha.
The day Do-heon lost his self-control and revealed everything to Cheong-yeon, he would be met with cold emotions and icy contempt.
Do-heon worked hard to prevent such a day from coming. For Cheong-yeon to keep liking him, he strictly suppressed his desire that flowed from every part of his body like gas, at all times and places.
For Cheong-yeon to keep liking him.
“……”
And now Cheong-yeon hated him.
As the brief reminiscence ended, Do-heon opened his eyes. The clear scene in his mind disappeared like smoke, and Cheong-yeon’s empty room came into view.
The scent that had momentarily provided comfort had now completely evaporated. And it left an even greater thirst in its wake.
Out of habit, Do-heon checked his phone. There was still no news about Cheong-yeon.
He tapped the table with his fingertips, deep in thought.
If he approached the situation rationally, setting emotions aside, it wasn’t yet at a stage to be taken seriously. It had only been half a day since communication with Cheong-yeon had been cut off.
Although it was said that contact with those around him had been lost since yesterday evening, a day is generally a very short time.
He might have turned off his phone needing personal time, or forgotten to charge it. There was also the possibility he had lost it entirely.
It was too early to make hasty judgments simply because calls weren’t connecting.
“Haa.”
Even though his mind knew this, his boiling insides showed no signs of calming down.
Placed in this situation, Do-heon finally realized how much he didn’t know about Cheong-yeon.
Where he might go, who he might meet, what he might be thinking, why he hadn’t contacted Do-heon even once.
Sitting here idly killing time, he couldn’t find answers to any of these questions.
Perhaps there was more he didn’t know about Cheong-yeon than what he did know.
Cheong-yeon disliked eating with him, didn’t enjoy looking at paintings, and even said living with him in this house made him unhappy.
Recalling how Cheong-yeon had curled up, trembling, shouting that he hated Do-heon and found him too repulsive to ever want to see again, made it hard for Do-heon to breathe. Even taking deep breaths couldn’t fill the oxygen deficiency.
With inexplicable anxiety, Do-heon frowned and stood up. The afterimages stubbornly embedded in his mind kept playing continuously, despite his not wanting to remember them. This was unfamiliar to him.
After pacing around Cheong-yeon’s room, Do-heon opened the dressing room and entered.
The interior was neatly organized, as if untouched by human hands. The place was filled entirely with Cheong-yeon’s belongings.
Clothes and accessories Do-heon had given him, shirts, shoes, watches, car keys, photos they had taken together.
Everything was perfectly maintained, ready to be used again anytime.
Yet Cheong-yeon showed no lingering attachment, even when he visited the house after their divorce. He turned his back and left easily, as if he didn’t care that the space they had lived in together remained like this.
Perhaps Do-heon was the only one who gave this place any meaning.
After staring at the items Cheong-yeon had left behind, Do-heon finally left the room after a long while.
*
Do-heon, who hadn’t slept a wink all night, got up from his bed. The more he forced his eyes closed, the more his nerves seemed to sharpen.
He compulsively checked his phone. There were only emails and messages related to work, still no news he was waiting for.
By now, there should at least be a message saying they had found Cheong-yeon. What could have happened?
Or could it be that he had actually developed feelings for that Omega?
A possibility that Do-heon had been trying to ignore crept into his mind.
Han Iram, was it? After hearing that his trait was Omega, Do-heon had dismissed suspicions of a special relationship with Cheong-yeon.
Once doubt raised its head, the image of the two in the photos he had seen in the articles began to gnaw at him.
He had heard that though rare, there were cases where individuals of the same trait became attracted to each other. It wasn’t theoretically impossible. Moreover, he thought that perhaps the reason Cheong-yeon hadn’t contacted him after the scandal broke was because the article was true.
Do-heon gritted his molars so hard that the tendons in his neck and jaw visibly bulged.
Suddenly feeling his throat burn with thirst, he went downstairs. Even after downing a full cup of cold water, the burning sensation in his throat wouldn’t subside.
Despite not having slept for more than a day due to the flight, his mind was abnormally clear.
He put down the empty cup and immediately grabbed his car keys.
Even knowing that the probability of two individuals of the same trait meeting was realistically slim, he felt that only seeing with his own eyes that it wasn’t true would calm his churning insides.
Although there was nothing he could do by going there again, Do-heon left the house without delay.
It was still dark dawn, but he didn’t care as he started the car and headed toward Cheong-yeon’s officetel. After all, it was the only place he could think to go.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
