# Chapter 49
It was an unexpected expression. Yes, I do like reading, but was there any connection between that and loneliness? No, more importantly, do I look lonely? Why? Seowoo furrowed his brows.
“…I’ve never particularly thought of it that way.”
“Which part? Are you talking about my hypothesis, or about you being lonely?”
“Closer to the former, but why did you think I was lonely? I’ve never said anything like that to you.”
Seowoo stared with narrowed eyes. He had never properly revealed his inner feelings to Seo Dohyun. Although the frequency of their conversations had increased with the growing amount of time they spent together recently, he had never mentioned being lonely.
Instead of answering, Dohyun poured oil around the pan and gestured to Seowoo with his chin.
“Hey, the garlic is burning.”
“…Don’t change the subject.”
Dohyun’s habit of pretending not to know and backing off whenever he hit the mark precisely was chronic. Seowoo stirred the pan with a spoon, his eyes narrowing sharply.
“You don’t immediately deny it when I mention loneliness.”
This time Dohyun hit the mark precisely. Seowoo had been living too busy a life to feel lonely, so there was no need to specifically label his emotions. Solitude had been like a shadow accompanying Seowoo’s life since he was very young. However, achievement always overcame solitude, and Seowoo’s life had been filled with numerous successes. That was all.
So he had no intention of acknowledging it, nor did he want to. Seowoo replied without hesitation.
“I’m not lonely.”
“Your lies are terribly unconvincing. What should I do about this? Should I pretend to believe you?”
“Let’s drop it.”
At his typical disgusted response, Dohyun burst into laughter. When he poured the ingredients into the pan and started stir-frying, a delicious smell began to spread throughout the kitchen. While skillfully stir-frying the ingredients, Dohyun responded.
“When I look at you, it just shows. It shows in everything.”
In other words, he meant he could tell by looking. Isn’t that pure fraud? Seowoo glanced sideways at him, but Dohyun’s expression showed no change. It was hard to tell whether he was lying or not. One thing was certain, at least he wasn’t joking.
“It’s the first time I’ve heard that loneliness is visible.”
“How could someone who can’t lie know how to hide loneliness?”
“You’re just trying to criticize me for not being able to lie, right?”
“Why would not being able to lie be something to criticize?”
Dohyun frowned and looked straight at Seowoo. His expression showed genuine confusion.
Of course, normally, being unable to lie wouldn’t be considered strange, and being good at it would be more problematic. But hearing this from someone who lived by lying made it laughable to Seowoo. Especially when he constantly teased him for not being able to lie.
“Not having to lie, not knowing how, and not being able to even when you want to—that’s closer to good fortune.”
“It’s really absurd hearing you say that, you know.”
“Why? I’ve never seen anyone like you in my life. You’re also the kind of person who couldn’t be around me, and I think… this style is rather hard to find in the 21st century.”
Now he’s even bringing up the 21st century. Though his tone was close to admiration, upon reflection, it was difficult to take this as a compliment. Seowoo’s expression automatically contorted, his gaze sharpening.
At the sharp gaze, Dohyun diverted attention by pointing to the shrimp in the bowl. Shrimp, add the shrimp. Seowoo huffed and picked up the bowl, dumping the shrimp in at once.
“So you’re saying I’m old-fashioned?”
“No one can beat you at twisting words.”
“I’m twisting words? Who was the one talking about the 21st century?”
“You probably won’t understand, but it’s a compliment.”
The fact that he understood that Seowoo wouldn’t understand was somewhat fortunate.
Dohyun took out a wide bowl from the cupboard and transferred the food. The way he transferred it without spilling or staining anything, maintaining its shape, showed his expertise.
“Not being able to hide loneliness can be an advantage too.”
“…Are you going to keep being sarcastic like this?”
“This is also a compliment. Not knowing how to hide means you’re not intentionally showing it either. And that affects others.”
If loneliness influenced others, whether that could be a positive influence was questionable. Being a damp and heavy emotion, it might have a sticky and unpleasant impact, like something clinging to the soles of one’s feet.
At the explicit puzzlement that appeared on Seowoo’s face, Dohyun just pulled up his lips into a smile.
“I can tell you can’t hide it just by watching your acting.”
Seowoo looked up while transferring the food to the bowl. It was an entirely unexpected answer.
“…Which part?”
“It’s hard to express precisely, but I just know. When I keep watching you, I can just feel it from everything. Your likes and dislikes, your habits when talking, the points you particularly care about.”
The response was more specific than expected. If “it shows in everything” wasn’t just a joke, when fitting together specific sentences pointing to parts of Seowoo, it all added up. It was puzzling. He had never heard such words before.
Dohyun took the bowl containing Seowoo’s food and placed it on the table. It was as natural as if he were serving. Seowoo’s gaze followed Dohyun’s movements.
“I don’t see it.”
“See what?”
“Your loneliness doesn’t show at all.”
Dohyun, who was rummaging through the utensil holder to gather three pairs of chopsticks, paused his movements for a brief moment. His gaze, which had been fixed on the table, turned to Seowoo.
“That’s unlike you to say something so unexpected.”
“Didn’t you talk about it so I would understand? You said people who are lonely become close to books. Don’t you like books more than I do?”
When there was no immediate response, silence fell heavily between them. Though this wasn’t the first time Seowoo had experienced silence in conversations with Dohyun, this was somehow different from before. The air was heavy, but it wasn’t suffocating or frightening. Perhaps it was because Dohyun’s expression was different from before.
Dohyun placed the chopsticks on the table with a deliberately loud sound, as if to clear the atmosphere.
“I don’t think I ever said I liked them. I just said I had read the book you mentioned.”
“What nonsense is this when your study walls are completely filled with books?”
Yes, he had seen it when they first finished moving in. He had found it fascinating—a study with all three walls packed with books, something you’d only see on TV. Since Dohyun was someone who spent money like water, Seowoo had thought they were just decorations. But looking back now, they were clearly all Dohyun’s books.
“And honestly, it was weird that you memorized book passages.”
“It’s a famous book.”
“The part you recited wasn’t impactful enough to memorize at a glance.”
Though he didn’t realize it during their conversation then, now that he had read the entire book, Seowoo could be certain. That section, if Seowoo hadn’t been conscious of it because of Dohyun, would never have been a passage one could memorize in one go.
Dohyun didn’t respond aggressively as usual. No, perhaps he couldn’t. Whether thinking or contemplating, his brow slowly furrowed.
A strange and heavy but not frightening silence settled quietly between them. It was close to patience. Their gazes went back and forth for a while before Seowoo opened his mouth first.
“…What’s wrong with being lonely? I’m not the kind of person who uses that as someone’s weakness.”
Dohyun’s gaze turned away from Seowoo as if avoiding him. His outstretched hand took out three wine glasses from the cupboard.
“Yes, I know. That you’re absolutely not that kind of person.”
Dohyun’s expression was briefly reflected in the glass. Unlike his gentle tone, it seemed distorted. It was an expression Seowoo had never seen before, and he almost reached out to grab Dohyun’s shoulder to confirm that face.
“That’s the problem, actually.”
“…That’s the problem?”
Once again, he was saying something completely illogical. Just as Seowoo was about to question him, they heard the sound of a door opening from a distance.
Woojae, with his eyes completely buried in his phone, walked out energetically with an excited voice that completely shattered the atmosphere.
“Hyung, this is amazing. I just got a 4-star…”
After saying that much, Woojae abruptly closed his mouth. He wasn’t a fool. This chilly air made him instinctively sense that voices had been raised at least once, and that it wasn’t just simple bickering. It wasn’t the time to brag about a 4-star hero.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
