The jamón ibérico in particular caught the eye. Thin slices of the ham were spread across a large piece of bread like a fan. The inside was hollow, and when tapped lightly with a wooden spoon, it broke apart with a crisp crackle. It seemed like the proper way to eat it was to combine it with the ham.
The bikini sandwich—a simple blend of jamón, manchego cheese, and truffle butter—was deceptively basic but incredibly flavorful. The labneh was served in a ring, piped like paint on a palette. On top were fresh herb leaves and salmon roe, meant to be scooped up with potato chips.
None of it resembled your average bar snacks. Every dish was exquisitely good.
“Tasty, isn’t it? José Andrés never disappoints,” Alexander said.
Even Yeon Yiseo, who had only heard of the star chef in passing, could tell this kind of flavor wasn’t something you stumbled across easily. By the time he finished the bikini sandwich, the cocktail had arrived. One sip revealed a pleasant sweetness, perfectly suited to his tastes. He took another.
“I had a feeling you liked sweet things, so I picked one with honey in it. How is it?”
“It’s excellent.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Alexander smiled, looking genuinely pleased.
As their hunger faded, the bar filled with people, and the sun gradually dipped below the skyline. The sunset view was breathtaking. The buildings bathed in a reddish glow, their lights flickering on one by one—it was so stunning that it almost felt like time had stopped.
“Nice view, right?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Nice didn’t begin to cover it. It was overwhelming. He hadn’t expected to be able to enjoy a view like this so leisurely. The music was a bit loud, but for this kind of scenery, he could put up with it.
“It’s… wonderful,” Yiseo murmured with a soft sigh.
“When things get complicated in your head, looking at a beautiful view can help. I wish I knew of a private spot like this with no people around, but unfortunately, New York doesn’t really have that kind of place.”
“…”
The implication was clear: Alexander had times when things got complicated too.
As Yiseo slowly turned his drink in his hand, his eyes met Alexander’s.
“Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Excuse me?”
“About what’s bothering me, or if something happened.”
It was hard to tell what Alexander’s intentions were behind the question. Though he smiled gently, there was a subtle dissonance, something that didn’t sit right. Yiseo opened his mouth quietly.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
Hearing that, Alexander gave a pale smile.
“You’re remarkably perceptive, Yiseo. That’s one of the things I like about you. …Shall we step out to the terrace? It should be a bit quieter.”
He stood with his glass, and Yiseo followed him to the terrace.
The moment they pushed through the glass doors, the noise dropped considerably.
The breeze tousling his hair felt good. The view from the skyscraper was unlike anything he usually saw. As the sky deepened in color by the minute, the city lights gleamed more brightly—an unexpected beauty.
It was strange to think he existed in a place like this. This building, this city, this country… and further still, this massive planet called Earth—on that scale, someone like Yeon Yiseo was barely a speck. All his desperate struggling felt pathetically small in comparison.
Still, his efforts hadn’t been meaningless. Looking at things from a different angle helped ease the knot in his chest. Even if nothing had actually been resolved, he felt ready to try again.
Honestly, life wasn’t so bad. Objectively speaking, he’d done well for himself—he had a respectable job, he was sitting in a luxurious bar drinking good liquor. Even with someone like Jeremy in his life, he was doing okay.
He was glad he’d brought the cocktail. Drinking while taking in this view—it tasted even better. The scenery made the flavors stand out more.
“What are you thinking about?”
Seated on one of the terrace chairs, Alexander turned to him. Yiseo smiled faintly.
“I was just realizing… I’m not as empty-handed as I thought.”
Maybe it was the sudden sense of release in his chest, but the words came out honestly.
“That’s different from me,” Alexander replied.
At that, Yiseo turned to face him.
“What were you thinking about, sir?”
“Hmm… I was thinking it feels like I’m submerged at the bottom of the ocean. Don’t you feel how eerily quiet it is?”
It was an odd sentiment. Yiseo looked back at the view. The sky was already dark; only the lower edge of the sky still held a deep navy hue.
He didn’t disagree—it did feel quiet. But it was surprising to hear that kind of impression from Alexander. Most people would’ve just said it was beautiful or breathtaking.
And the word quiet—especially in that context—was wholly unexpected.
“…”
Thoughts like that didn’t come out of nowhere. Maybe Alexander was wrestling with something he couldn’t share with others.
Was it possible that even someone like Alexander—who seemed to have nothing to envy—had his own troubles?
The man had always exuded confidence. Vulnerability didn’t seem to exist in his world. Which made this feel… strange.
Of course, everyone had their burdens. But the idea that Alexander might too—Yiseo hadn’t even considered it. It felt like discovering a hidden side of him.
If only Alexander had been one of the romance targets in “Don’t Look for the Sickly Villain”…
If that were the case, Yiseo would already know what kind of wounds he carried. He’d be able to say exactly what Alexander needed to hear.
But right now, everything was a mystery.
He didn’t know if Alexander was hurting, or if he was just reading too much into things. He couldn’t even tell that much.
But what was certain was this: he couldn’t brush Alexander’s words off lightly.
Now seated at eye level, Yiseo glanced at Alexander’s profile.
As the wind stirred his neatly styled hair, Yiseo reached out without thinking.
And the moment his hand touched it, Alexander turned to look at him. Yiseo, startled by his own behavior, pulled back.
“I’m sorry. My hand moved on its own.”
“I didn’t say anything, did I?”
Alexander watched him, then smiled.
“It’s fine.”
“…Pardon?”
Yiseo couldn’t help asking again at how casually he said it.
“You were reaching to touch my hair, weren’t you? It’s okay, go ahead.”
“No, really. I just moved without thinking. I’m fine. You don’t have to—”
“You refusing so firmly makes me want to insist now.”
And with that, Alexander grabbed Yiseo’s hand and placed it on his own head, guiding it back and forth like he was petting himself.
Yiseo gaped at the unexpected action. The soft texture of Alexander’s hair was distinct against his palm.
Even after Alexander let go, Yiseo’s hand didn’t move away.
He hesitantly stroked again. The strands were soft and silky.
As he petted him a few more times, their eyes met—Alexander watching him silently.
“Did you get your fill?”
“…Uh, yeah.”
Yiseo replied, flustered.
“No one’s ever petted my hair before, but… it’s not a bad feeling.”
Alexander gave a faint smile and sipped his drink.
His long lashes fluttered as he blinked slowly.
Never before?
Had he not done these kinds of things with past lovers? It was hard to believe.
Then Alexander gestured him closer. Yiseo had no idea why, but he leaned in anyway. And then, Alexander lowered his upper body toward him.
Instinctively, Yiseo caught him before he could fall.
Now with Alexander’s head resting against his chest, Yiseo froze.
He thought the man would pull away like it was a joke, but there was no sign of that. In fact, he felt heavier—as if he were settling in.
One of his arms slipped around Yiseo’s waist, almost possessively.
As Alexander rubbed his head gently against him, Yiseo got the sense that he was asking to be petted.
It clicked.
Alexander wasn’t usually the type to hint at what he wanted—he tended to state it outright.
But now? This side of him was completely new.
Yiseo began gently stroking his hair again.
The low sigh that came from Alexander felt like one of contentment.
Being embraced by a man so much larger than himself, running his fingers through his hair like this—it felt surreal.
When he left the office today, he never imagined this. Why was Alexander acting this way all of a sudden?
Still gently caressing him, Yiseo finally asked,
“…You’re not just tired, are you?”
“I’m an extreme-dominant Alpha.”
The quiet words that followed sounded like Alexander was talking more to himself than to Yiseo. As if being an extreme-dominant Alpha meant he shouldn’t be tired.
Yiseo felt a strange weight in his chest. Seeing Alexander like this—so subdued—was disorienting. But more than that, he just wanted to comfort him somehow.
