[I ate.]
Seok-ho’s reply was extremely short. And the intervals between his replies were very long. It seemed he was probably overwhelmed with work and adjusting to the time difference.
Kang-woo, who kept checking his phone repeatedly, turned off the lights early again that day. He lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock’s second hand sounded unusually clear.
How much time had passed?
Kang-woo picked up his silent phone again. He checked the time on the screen. He had clearly lain down before 11 p.m., but it was already nearing 1 a.m. Somehow, he had been unable to fall asleep for almost two hours.
Before leaving home, there had been many days when worries kept him awake night after night. Back then, even the act of falling asleep had felt exhausting. The moment he closed his eyes, another nightmare would unfold.
But after he started living in Seok-ho’s house, Kang-woo would usually fall asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. There were even many days when he didn’t dream at all. Sometimes he even had the silly thought that Seok-ho’s house somehow kept bad thoughts away.
Which was why this felt strange.
He had never tossed and turned like this before, but tonight he simply couldn’t fall asleep. Kang-woo rolled onto his side and faced the wall. Idle thoughts followed.
What is Seok-ho doing right now?
It’s only his second day in the U.S.—is he very busy? I heard American food is all salty. I wonder if the meals suit his taste. Well… he does have a good appetite, though.
Thoughts of Seok-ho slowly rose and spread through his mind.
He picked up his phone again and checked the time. Since it was past 1 a.m. in Korea, it must be around 11 a.m. over there now. So Seok-ho might be having an early lunch—or perhaps he had already started his day early and was busy.
Kang-woo opened their chat window and hesitated, but in the end he couldn’t send a message. He placed the phone beneath his pillow.
He couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that Seok-ho might be sleeping. He must already be exhausted from adjusting to the time difference, so Kang-woo didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily with the vibration of a message.
It wasn’t even a tropical night, yet his chest burned with thoughts of someone, leaving him unable to sleep.
***
This wasn’t Seok-ho’s first overseas business trip. He had gone abroad several times before at the request of clients.
So living in a foreign country wasn’t unfamiliar to him.
And the stay wasn’t even a month—at most, it was only about a week. Besides, whenever he traveled for work, the days usually rushed by in a blur from the moment he departed, leaving him no time to feel lonely. It wasn’t as if he had a personality that couldn’t endure being alone, either.
So Seok-ho had been confident that this overseas trip would be just as easy as the previous ones.
In fact, since arriving in New York, his thoughts hadn’t changed.
After finishing all his work and returning to the hotel, Seok-ho was changing his clothes when his gaze suddenly drifted to a box on the table. It was a gift from his client, who said it came from a place famous as a trending dessert shop in New York.
Donuts.
Seok-ho wandered over to the table and opened the box. Slowly scanning the various donuts topped with different decorations, he eventually picked one up.
It was coated in pink syrup—clearly something sweet at a glance—yet his hand had moved without thinking.
And just as expected, the moment he took a bite, the strong sweetness seized his taste buds.
“…That’s a flavor Kim Kang-woo would like.”
The words slipped out of Seok-ho’s mouth in a quiet murmur.
Only then did he realize something.
All this time, he had been consciously pushing thoughts of Kim Kang-woo away. At the same time, as if a blocked dam had burst open, one person began filling his mind completely.
Seok-ho set down the donut he had bitten.
“I won’t contact you too often. Just sometimes. Just enough to check whether you’re eating properly at mealtimes.”
The boy’s voice replayed in his head, and suddenly Seok-ho thought he should eat dinner.
But the idea of going outside to buy something felt bothersome, so he ordered room service instead. Not long afterward, a hotel staff member brought the food on a trolley.
The blond man who arranged the dishes on the table left with a polite greeting.
The steak plated with asparagus, cherry tomatoes, and button mushrooms looked quite appetizing. The smell wasn’t bad either. Seok-ho picked up his knife and cut into the steak.
When he put a bite-sized piece into his mouth, rich juice seeped out from the meat between his teeth.
He quietly chewed and swallowed several more bites.
In the silent hotel room, the only sound was the clinking of Seok-ho’s utensils.
For some reason, today the food didn’t go down easily, as if something were stuck in his throat.
There was only one difference from before.
Kim Kang-woo—who had always been beside him—wasn’t here now.
Without the person who usually sat across from him chatting endlessly, the atmosphere felt strange. Without the voice calling “hyung, hyung” and urging him to try this and that dish, his chest felt oddly hollow.
In truth, all that had happened was that things had returned to how they were before he met Kim Kang-woo.
That should have been all there was to it.
Before gaining a roommate, his house had always been just as quiet as it was now.
And yet, what could those less-than-two months they spent living together possibly mean?
In the end, Seok-ho put down his fork before even finishing half the steak. Normally he ate almost anything except desserts without being picky, but his appetite simply wouldn’t rise. Everything he tasted felt overly strong and salty.
Even he found it ridiculous that he was suddenly acting like someone with a sensitive palate, yet he couldn’t force himself to swallow another bite.
When traveling abroad, he usually preferred trying a variety of local foods, so he had never deliberately sought out Korean food during previous trips.
But today, strangely enough, he kept thinking about the meals Kim Kang-woo used to cook.
Along with them, the boy’s smiling face appeared in his mind.
The warm, gentle eyes that watched him while he ate. The lips that moved endlessly as if he always had something to say.
It was strange.
Looking back on his life, there had been far more time spent alone in his memories than time spent with someone else. Even when he was in a relationship, Seok-ho had always been the type who needed a certain amount of time alone.
Which made this even stranger.
That the absence of one person could feel this large.
Seok-ho picked up his phone.
Opening the chat window, he scrolled backward through the messages he had exchanged with Kim Kang-woo.
Kang-woo had contacted him several times, but when the replies kept coming late, he eventually fell silent.
The last message from him had come yesterday at 9 p.m., local time.
Suddenly, Seok-ho wanted to send him a message.
But what should he write?
After hesitating for a long time, Seok-ho ultimately couldn’t write anything at all and set the phone down again.
At that moment, he learned for the first time that when too many words drift through your mind, you might end up unable to write even a single one.
***
Ding-dong—
The sudden sound of the doorbell rang through the quiet apartment.
Kang-woo, whose gaze had been fixed on the TV, turned toward the hallway leading to the entrance.
Who could it be?
With a curious expression, he stood up from the sofa and checked the intercom. A familiar face appeared on the small screen.
“Professor?”
It was Young-wan, the doctor friend Seok-ho had introduced before.
After confirming the visitor’s identity, Kang-woo hurried to the door. He released the safety latch and opened it.
“Have you been well, Kang-woo-ssi?”
Young-wan greeted him in a bright voice.
“Hello.”
Kang-woo welcomed him inside with a slightly bewildered expression. Dressed in a neat suit as if he had stopped by on his way home from work, Young-wan beamed and handed him a paper bag. It was stuffed full of something, bulging noticeably.
“I saw a place selling bungeoppang on my way here, so I bought some. Eat.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Kang-woo accepted the pile of bungeoppang with both hands and hugged it to his chest. It was still warm, the heat lingering through the paper. A savory smell tickled his nose at the same time—an aroma that made his mouth water.
As Kang-woo touched the oil-stained, slightly soggy paper, he spoke awkwardly.
“But Seok-ho hyung is on a business trip overseas right now. He’s not home.”
“I know. That’s why Seok-ho asked me for a favor before he left. He said Kang-woo-ssi would probably be bored alone, so I should drop by the house once and hang out with you.”
What Seok-ho had actually said was, “Just stop by once in the middle and check if the kid’s doing okay alone.” But Young-wan interpreted the request however he pleased.
“Seok-ho hyung did?”
Kang-woo scratched the back of his neck shyly.
Hang out with him, he said.
It wasn’t like he was a five-year-old child who needed babysitting.
He grumbled inwardly, yet at the same time a ticklish warmth spread through his chest. After all, it meant Seok-ho had worried about him in his own way.
“Come inside first.”
Kang-woo led Young-wan into the apartment.
“Would you like some water or a drink?”
“No, it’s fine. I just came from drinking tons of coffee. Kang-woo-ssi, you sit too. Don’t just stand there.”
Kang-woo, who had been about to go to the kitchen, sat down on the sofa at Young-wan’s insistence. From the bag he was holding, the savory smell continued to rise, drawing his gaze downward again and again.
Looking inside, the golden-brown bungeoppang looked delicious.
I should eat it before it gets cold.
Kang-woo cautiously held out the bag toward Young-wan.
“Hyung, you should have one too.”
“Ah, thanks. I bought them, but I’ll enjoy one.”
Young-wan said shamelessly and reached out to take one. Kang-woo also picked up a plump bungeoppang.
“Thank you for the food.”
The two sat side by side, biting into the fish-shaped pastries together. The sweet filling spread through his mouth, and Kang-woo felt his mood improve.
…Wait.
His mood improved?
Realizing it absentmindedly, Kang-woo noticed that he had been feeling gloomy.
“……”
“……”
For a moment, silence flowed between them. Kang-woo rolled his eyes awkwardly, and Young-wan spoke first to break the atmosphere.
“By the way, have you had dinner yet?”
“I was just about to eat.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“…I was just going to eat something simple with the side dishes in the fridge.”
Kang-woo trailed off while glancing at him.
It seemed like Young-wan hadn’t eaten yet either. What should he do? There wasn’t anything prepared that he could properly serve to a guest.
But as if his worry were unnecessary, Young-wan immediately offered a solution.
“Perfect. Then let’s go out and eat together. I’ll buy you something good.”
With a friendly smile, he tilted his head toward the outside.
***
The two headed to a grilled pork rib restaurant located right near the officetel building.
It had been a while since Kang-woo last ate out for dinner.
Before leaving his family home, he mostly ate the home-cooked meals prepared by the housekeeper. And now, while staying at Seok-ho’s house, he had taken on the role of handling meals himself, cooking side dishes every day—so there hadn’t been any reason to eat outside.
“The fire is hot. Please be careful.”
A brazier of glowing charcoal was placed at the center of their table. Soon afterward, various side dishes and wrap vegetables were set out, and marinated pork ribs were added to the spread.
Since he felt bad just being treated, Kang-woo decided he should at least handle grilling the meat. Just as he reached for the tongs, a staff member stepped beside them and politely extended a hand.
“I’ll grill the meat for you.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Watching the scene from across the table, Young-wan met Kang-woo’s eyes and smiled.
“Drinks?”
“I’m okay. If hyung wants some, you can have some.”
