Chapter 35
“Ugh, my head!”
His head felt like it was about to split open. It was fine if he lay still, but the slightest movement of his body was followed by a terrible headache, as if someone had stuck needles into his temples.
“Damn it. Why did I drink all that wine…”
Why did I do that? Cheong-yeon crawled out of bed on all fours, blaming himself. The saying about becoming a dog when drunk was clearly made for moments like this.
Barely managing to get up, Cheong-yeon checked the time. It wasn’t quite seven in the morning yet. Fortunately, he’d gone to bed at a decent hour last night, so waking up early was a good thing.
He thought about just leaving, but unfortunately, his phone was nowhere to be seen. Unpleasant as it might be, he’d have to ask Do-heon directly.
“When did I even fall asleep? I’ll just wake him up. Haah.”
How embarrassing to spend two whole days sleeping at his ex-husband’s house after divorce. Cheong-yeon left the room, walking as quietly as possible to minimize the pounding in his head.
Do-heon was probably getting dressed in his room at this hour. Being a person with a very precise routine, he was likely just putting on his shirt now.
Standing in front of Do-heon’s door, Cheong-yeon knocked briefly.
“Come in.”
An immediate response came from inside. Enduring the subtle throbbing in his temples, Cheong-yeon turned the doorknob. Their eyes met as Do-heon was tying his necktie in front of the mirror.
He was already wearing his shirt, not far from what Cheong-yeon had predicted at the door.
Cheong-yeon hesitated to enter the room immediately, staring at the suit Do-heon was wearing.
I feel like I’ve seen that somewhere before…
As Cheong-yeon tilted his head slightly in thought, he suddenly remembered the events of the previous night.
Do-heon had carried Cheong-yeon, who had fallen asleep watching the movie on the living room sofa, to the second-floor bedroom. As he reached out to cover him with the blanket, Cheong-yeon, drunk as he was, opened his eyes wide.
Cheong-yeon sat up abruptly, as if wondering when he had fallen asleep.
‘Weren’t you sleeping?’
‘No, I wasn’t. Why would I sleep here?’
After answering so explicitly, Cheong-yeon pushed Do-heon away and got out of bed.
‘Yoo Cheong-yeon?’
When he suddenly opened the door and strode out, Do-heon followed in surprise. Without answering, Cheong-yeon headed to Do-heon’s room.
‘That’s my room.’
‘I know.’
Entering someone else’s room without permission, Cheong-yeon walked with familiar steps past the bed to Do-heon’s dressing room connected to the bedroom.
If not for his slightly staggering gait, his face looked so normal that it was hard to believe he was intoxicated. Do-heon silently watched to see what Cheong-yeon was doing.
Cheong-yeon flung open the largest wardrobe in the center of the dressing room.
‘I knew it.’
Seeing the empty interior, Cheong-yeon mumbled with slurred pronunciation.
‘What?’
Do-heon, leaning against the dressing room entrance, asked. Cheong-yeon clicked his tongue, pointing to the empty wardrobe.
‘There aren’t any suits. They should be hanging here densely.’
Only then did Do-heon understand what Cheong-yeon was talking about. Though they had never verbally agreed to it, that wardrobe had implicitly been the place Cheong-yeon always filled since their newlywed days.
‘You always used to do that.’
At Do-heon’s words, Cheong-yeon’s gaze turned to the empty wardrobe.
Once a week, Cheong-yeon would select Do-heon’s tops and bottoms for work and organize them in the central wardrobe of the dressing room.
Throughout their marriage, Do-heon went to work wearing the clothes that were hanging there without complaint.
The reason Cheong-yeon began interfering with his clothes was quite simple. In the early days of their marriage, Cheong-yeon was dissatisfied with not seeing Do-heon’s face often due to his late returns and busy schedule. Also, the fact that they naturally used separate rooms.
Moreover, Do-heon never visited Cheong-yeon’s room first without specific business, so Cheong-yeon would create excuses to visit him.
Back then, he liked Do-heon so much and wanted to see him all day. Looking back now, it was severe, but at that time, figuring out how to create natural points of contact with Do-heon was one of his important daily tasks.
The method he found was visiting under the pretext of organizing Do-heon’s work outfits. Of course, since it was difficult to control his pheromones when too close to Do-heon, he usually entered and organized when Do-heon wasn’t in the bedroom.
As a reward for his careful consideration in choosing clothes, Do-heon wore the suits Cheong-yeon hung in the wardrobe without complaint.
Cheong-yeon would explain in detail, whenever he had the chance, how well the clothes suited him and what clothes he planned to order for the following week. Do-heon didn’t respond well to such trivial conversation topics, but at least he didn’t ignore them.
Back then, even such mundane daily life was thrilling and wonderful. Just the fact that he wore the clothes Cheong-yeon chose to work made him feel elated all day.
Now it was all pointless, but that’s how it was then.
‘That’s right. It’s my job, of course.’
Recalling the old memories, Cheong-yeon belatedly agreed in a slow tone.
‘I’m glad you remember.’
‘Should I hang up some clothes now?’
‘That would be nice.’
Do-heon didn’t stop Cheong-yeon, who suggested picking out work clothes in the middle of the night. Rather, as if welcoming it, he even opened another wardrobe for him.
Cheong-yeon was excited when he, who always half-listened to his words, unexpectedly set the stage for him.
Cheong-yeon turned over each item in his wardrobe after a long time and selected clothes for him to wear during the week. Occasionally, when he lost his balance and staggered from the alcohol, Do-heon would approach and steady him to prevent him from falling.
Since he hadn’t bought anything new, there were no new clothes in the dressing room. They were all things purchased before the divorce.
Cheong-yeon pulled out a few decent-looking shirts and held them up to Do-heon.
Do-heon waited patiently, as if going along with the rhythm.
‘Which one looks better?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I knew you would say that.’
Although he had become slightly more active, Do-heon’s reactions were still weak. Grumbling, Cheong-yeon pouted his lips. Due to the wine, his head was very dizzy and his vision wasn’t very clear, but Cheong-yeon didn’t mind.
‘It would be nice if you kept your hair down like this…’
Looking at Do-heon’s hair, Cheong-yeon said regretfully.
‘Does it look better down?’
‘With this outfit.’
‘Then I’ll wear my hair down on the day I wear this outfit.’
Do-heon added, brushing up his fallen hair himself.
Why is he suddenly so agreeable? Cheong-yeon, feeling pleased, nodded with a bright smile. Then he went to his side and chattered.
‘That’s good. Then how about going to work around eight that day?’
‘Why?’
‘Since you always go to work at seven-thirty, if I want to have meals with you, I have to wake up too early. Then we can’t spend much time together.’
Cheong-yeon, who liked to sleep in, always found it difficult to adjust his life to match Do-heon’s early schedule.
‘And eating breakfast too quickly right after waking up gives me indigestion until the afternoon…’
‘Indigestion? When was that?’
Cheong-yeon tilted his head, trying hard to retrieve memories submerged in alcohol.
‘Umm, almost every day.’
‘……’
Do-heon was silent for a moment. Does he not like the clothes? Just as Cheong-yeon was about to become gloomy, he thought, why does his opinion matter when I’ll do as I please anyway?
Cheong-yeon took out another outfit and held it up to Do-heon. Do-heon, who had been playing along like a doll so far, showed no reaction to the new item. He stood still without moving.
‘What are you thinking about?’
‘I’m thinking that I should go to work at eight from now on.’
‘That’s nice. The person you marry next will be happy.’
‘What?’
‘Hah, should I pick out shoes too…?’
Not noticing Do-heon’s furrowed brow, Cheong-yeon folded his arms and muttered to himself. However, he could feel his face heating up, perhaps from the alcohol. His vision was becoming increasingly blurry.
Even standing still was difficult. He wanted to leave these clothes for Do-heon to deal with himself and go back to his room to sleep.
Just as he was about to hang up the clothes he had spent so much time selecting, Cheong-yeon held his forehead and sank to the floor.
‘Headache?’
‘I guess I’m too drunk… Ah. Wait.’
As if having realized something, Cheong-yeon looked up at Do-heon, who was trying to help him up.
‘But you know what? This isn’t my job anymore.’
‘……’
‘Why did you lie and say it was my job?’
Irritation coated his voice without him realizing it. He couldn’t understand why he was doing this. What clothes Moon Do-heon wore or what time he went to work had nothing to do with him.
This is why habits are so frightening.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
