Han-gyeom glanced back and forth between Seo Won and Jeong-ho, who were silently watching him.
“Don’t mind me. Go ahead and finish what you were talking about.”
Without the slightest hint of awkwardness or apology, he strode confidently into the office. The office’s owner had told him to come by and grab cigarettes anytime, so there was no need to worry about what anyone thought.
Seo Won always used to take a cigarette out from the first drawer of his desk. Remembering that, Han-gyeom opened the top drawer without hesitation.
He could have sworn it used to hold documents or important items, but now it was packed entirely with the cigarettes Han-gyeom smoked. Neatly arranged rows of elegant black cigarette packs with golden trim. Anyone seeing it would assume Seo Won was a serious smoker.
Han-gyeom picked up one of the packs and began tearing off the plastic wrapping, but Seo Won had already come up beside him. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he took the pack from Han-gyeom and unwrapped it himself.
As he carefully refilled Han-gyeom’s empty case with fresh cigarettes, Seo Won didn’t let the conversation with Yoon Jeong-ho pause for a second.
“If you’re going to do it, it has to be next month. Any later, and it’ll lose momentum.”
“But there was a terrorist attack. Do you really think people will come that easily?”
“The Association said they’ll be increasing security. And those bastards who pulled it off—no way they’d try the same trick twice when the Esper Association’s got its guard up.”
“And what if they do strike again?”
“Then it’s actually a chance to catch them.”
Seo Won replied coolly, continuing to line the cigarettes into the case. As he did, he glanced subtly at Han-gyeom’s face. Under his long eyelashes, Han-gyeom’s eyes were fixed downward, counting the cigarettes.
Seo Won’s gaze slowly drifted down Han-gyeom’s figure.
It was the white dress shirt Seo Won hadn’t worn in a while because of the Black Vein. A luxury tailored shirt, made to fit Seo Won’s body perfectly—but on Han-gyeom, it looked surprisingly oversized.
The shoulders drooped all the way past his upper arms, and the cuffs swallowed his hands so deeply only half his fingers showed. The hem covered his hips completely.
Wrapped in that billowy fabric, Han-gyeom looked especially delicate.
Maybe it was because the shirt was white, and the light from the window illuminated the faint contours of his body. Or maybe it was because Seo Won already knew just how slender Han-gyeom really was.
Either way, there was something about seeing Han-gyeom in that oversized shirt that stirred a fierce protective instinct.
At the same time, it made Seo Won feel a pang of regret.
It was definitely his shirt—no mistake about that. Thanks to his diligent staff, freshly laundered clothes always carried a clean, pleasant scent. Even now, it smelled faintly of perfume.
Still, he wished Han-gyeom had been wearing one that carried his own strong scent instead. If Han-gyeom were wrapped in that kind of shirt, maybe even from a distance, it would feel like Seo Won’s presence was enveloping him—like his scent had soaked into Han-gyeom’s skin.
Seo Won recalled what Yoon Jeong-ho had said the moment he walked into the office today.
“What the hell? You smoke now?”
He remembered the look of surprise on Jeong-ho’s face when he’d asked the question.
The estate’s staff took as much care with Seo Won’s office as they did with his bedroom. As a result, the room was always well-ventilated, carrying a subtle, refined fragrance—and today was no exception.
Even so, the reason Jeong-ho had said what he did was because he’d somehow picked up on the faint, acrid scent clinging to Seo Won’s hair like a ghost.
Seo Won hadn’t been offended.
On the contrary, a smile had tugged at his lips.
“Stay with me. That’s all I need.”
That’s what Han-gyeom had said as he smoked, struggling with a migraine since morning. Seo Won had asked if he needed any medicine, but Han-gyeom replied that it wasn’t something medicine could fix. He just wanted someone by his side.
So Seo Won had stood next to him for a while, both of them leaning against the window as Han-gyeom smoked.
That was it.
Just a brief moment, spent silently beside him.
Yet even from that short time, the scent of Han-gyeom’s cigarette—something that felt as personal and distinct as Han-gyeom’s own scent—had lingered. It hadn’t settled anywhere else, masked by his usual cologne, but it had clung tightly to the finest strands of his hair.
And that alone made Seo Won feel strangely at peace. As if Han-gyeom was always nearby, no matter where he went.
He hoped Han-gyeom felt the same way.
Of course, the headache itself was nothing to be happy about.
Seo Won’s hand gently brushed through Han-gyeom’s hair. His complexion had looked pale earlier in the morning from the pain, but now he seemed a little better. Still, he hadn’t fully regained his color, so Seo Won examined his face carefully and asked in a low voice,
“Your headache?”
Han-gyeom looked up at him, his gaze steady. It was just two words, but Seo Won’s concern was unmistakable.
Han-gyeom held up the fully stocked cigarette case.
“It’s fine while I’m smoking this.”
He replied as if this kind of pain was nothing new, then clicked the cigarette case shut. The sleek silver case closed with a soft snap.
“I’ll stop bothering you now. Go back to what you were doing.”
As if his only reason for coming had truly been the cigarettes, Han-gyeom turned coldly to leave. But Seo Won reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“Smoke here.”
Han-gyeom paused and glanced at Yoon Jeong-ho, as if to ask, Weren’t you in the middle of an important conversation with him?
Under Han-gyeom’s gaze, Jeong-ho soon found himself at the receiving end of Seo Won’s sharp stare.
“Yoon Jeong-ho. Come back in 30 minutes.”
“What? Out of nowhere?”
“An hour later works too.”
“The hell are you talking about? We need to settle this—”
Jeong-ho’s voice, laced with protest, trailed off the moment he saw the look in Seo Won’s eyes darken. He paused, then sighed and slowly got up from his seat.
“Alright, alright. I’ll just enjoy a nice cup of tea in the lounge—call me when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
As Yoon Jeong-ho headed for the door, he glanced back. The two gazes that had been fixed on him moments ago were now entirely locked onto each other.
Tch.
Stifling a bitter chuckle, Jeong-ho opened the office door. He knew where the lounge was—he could’ve teleported in an instant. But he deliberately opened the door and walked out, needing somewhere to vent this ridiculous feeling building inside him.
Outside, waiting with eyes brimming with anticipation, was Jung Ah-young.
“What happened? Why are you already out here? Something happened in there, didn’t it? Come on, no way nothing happened. Right?”
Bombarded by her questions, Jeong-ho glanced at the closed door and lowered his voice.
“What’s up with that bastard Seo? He used to hate cigarettes, now he’s telling people to light up in his damn office. And then kicks me out on top of that?”
“You should’ve known to leave on your own before getting kicked out. Seriously, no sense of timing.”
Ah-young clicked her tongue and scolded him. Jeong-ho, now looking even more dazed, was about to say something when Ah-young suddenly leaned in, face serious, and whispered.
“Director Yoon, from now on, you absolutely cannot say anything weird about Han-gyeom. Got it?”
“Weird? What do you mean…?”
“Even if you’re not talking about Han-gyeom specifically, don’t go badmouthing Guides or treating them like slaves. Got it? Otherwise, Director Seo might just drive an icicle through your skull.”
“Wha…? No way he’d go that far…”
Even for someone as oblivious as Jeong-ho, it was impossible to miss the warning in her tone. He glanced back at the office door.
I don’t know exactly what’s going on here… but I’ve got a gut feeling about this.
A gleam lit up in Jeong-ho’s eyes as he thought of an old man.
“Ah-young, if Seo asks for me, tell him I went back to the company for a bit.”
In truth, he wasn’t going to the company, but to visit the old man he’d just thought of. There was no need to spill every detail. If Seo Won found out who he was really reporting to, he might just literally target his skull.
Grinning like he’d just stumbled onto something juicy, Jeong-ho disappeared in an instant.
Inside the office, none of the conversation outside could be heard.
Partly because Jeong-ho and Ah-young were whispering, but mostly because Seo Won and Han-gyeom weren’t paying attention to anything beyond each other.
“Mm, ngh…”
Han-gyeom took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke—only for Seo Won’s lips to crash into his like he was stealing the very breath from his lungs. It was deep, urgent, and without hesitation. His tongue slipped in through the now instinctively parted lips, sweeping through the smoky remnants lingering inside Han-gyeom’s mouth.
The kiss had come so suddenly, so aggressively, that Han-gyeom’s body tilted backward, hips braced against the desk. Thankfully, he didn’t fall—Seo Won’s solid arm supported his back, while his other hand cradled the back of his head in a firm grip.
“Mm… Seo… Won… Wait…”
Han-gyeom turned his head slightly, pushing Seo Won back just a little. Even from just a brief kiss, his breathing had already grown uneven.
“You hate the smell of cigarettes.”
“I don’t care.”
It was right after Han-gyeom had smoked, so the taste must’ve been harsh and acrid—but Seo Won was already gazing at him with feverish eyes.
“If it’s your scent, I don’t care what it is.”
