Go Hoon got into the car, pulled along by Bae Jung-yoon’s hand. When Jung-yoon asked if he could just drop him off where they’d met earlier, Go Hoon gave a vague nod in response.
As the wheels turned and the car moved along the road, Go Hoon sat in silence, staring out the window. After seeing Park Ki-cheol at the hospital, a heavy wave of fatigue had hit him—like the exhaustion that followed a brutal workout, when all strength was drained from his body.
“Hoon-ah.”
A gentle voice reached him. The biting sarcasm from earlier had vanished, replaced by a softness that felt almost surreal. But Go Hoon didn’t turn his head or open his mouth. He didn’t have the energy.
“Are you mad at me?”
He didn’t answer, of course. He simply kept staring out the window, saying nothing.
His mind was a tangled mess. There were too many thoughts, and what he needed most right now was time to himself. That was why he’d stayed quiet—but it seemed Bae Jung-yoon had misunderstood, thinking he was angry.
“I just wanted you to be happy.”
The words came in a quiet murmur. Strangely, there was something childlike in his voice.
And in that moment, Go Hoon couldn’t help but feel a little resentful toward Bae Jung-yoon. Why was he always throwing him off balance? Why couldn’t he just be a consistent, irredeemable bastard? Then at least Go Hoon could make up his mind and push him away.
The car sped on in silence until it finally reached the roadside spot where Jung-yoon had picked him up earlier.
“Get home safe.”
As the car pulled over with the hazard lights blinking, Go Hoon muttered a short goodbye and reached for the door handle.
But the second he unlocked it—click—it locked again with a mechanical snap. His hand froze midair.
Only one person could lock the passenger side door like that—the driver. Brow twitching, Go Hoon turned back with a scowl.
“What the hell are you—”
“What do you want me to do, then?”
They spoke at the same time. Go Hoon had been about to snap at him, but clamped his mouth shut. Meanwhile, Bae Jung-yoon, eyes fixed on him, continued.
“What do I have to do to make you stop being mad at me?”
But Go Hoon wasn’t mad. Honestly, did he even have the right to be mad at Bae Jung-yoon over Kim Yeo-jin? He wasn’t any different himself.
He could just say that and end this exhausting exchange right now. But he didn’t want to. Whatever it was he was feeling, he didn’t feel like putting it into words.
So instead, he kept his mouth shut and stared at Bae Jung-yoon. His eyes scanned the other man’s face—those careful, attentive eyes—and strangely, even the residual irritation started to fade away.
Go Hoon crossed his arms and turned his head. And just then, something he’d forgotten came to mind.
“…The photo.”
“Huh?”
As he muttered the word, Bae Jung-yoon blinked in confusion. Still staring stubbornly forward, Go Hoon grumbled in a tone tinged with annoyance.
“Delete that damn photo, asshole.”
“Photo?”
The innocent lilt in Jung-yoon’s voice only irritated him more.
“Yeah. My photo. The one you secretly took during class when I was dozing off.”
Annoyance flared, and Go Hoon frowned as he snapped the words out in quick succession. Only then did Bae Jung-yoon let out a soft “Ah…” of realization. He immediately picked up his phone from the center console.
“Hoon-ah, look.”
His voice was coaxing and gentle. Go Hoon rolled his eyes toward him, and Jung-yoon tapped his phone screen.
“Here, look.”
He showed the photo of Go Hoon, then deleted it right in front of him. After that, he opened his photo album and scrolled through it, displaying the full gallery.
“I deleted it. Happy now?”
But Go Hoon’s expression didn’t change. And no wonder—the album now held nothing but photos of Kkongddeok-i. Far more than he’d ever seen on SNS. His eyes naturally drifted across the rows of images.
Did that bastard not take photos of anything else? How was it that even now, the latest photo was still of Kkongddeok-i? Didn’t he ever take selfies? Or pictures of flowers or the sky or something?
Sure, Go Hoon himself didn’t take many photos either—his gallery was practically empty—but still, it bugged him.
Even after seeing the photo get deleted, he didn’t feel relieved. If anything, he felt more uncomfortable than before.
He barely stopped himself from telling Jung-yoon to delete the cat photos too. Instead, he grumbled out another demand.
“Take me off your profile pic, too.”
Bae Jung-yoon chuckled softly. Then, just like before, he opened his messenger app and showed himself removing Go Hoon’s photo from his profile.
“Better? Is that enough for you, Hoon-ah?”
He set the phone down in the console again and whispered with a soft smile. The way he gently cajoled him, like soothing a sulking child, made Go Hoon squirm. Beyond the dark line of his lashes, those jet-black eyes quietly studied him.
Go Hoon stared at him for a long moment, then finally spoke.
“Don’t ever do something that reckless again, Bae Jung-yoon.”
The warmth that had lingered at the corners of his lips slowly faded, his mouth turning downward. Watching him, Go Hoon let out a deep breath.
He didn’t want anything bad to happen to Bae Jung-yoon. He didn’t want to go through something like that again. His heart already felt like it had been torn to shreds.
Every time he saw that side of him, fear crept in. At the same time, he couldn’t help but worry—what if, because of him, Bae Jung-yoon ended up in serious danger?
“Okay.”
Jung-yoon nodded without hesitation. Then he rested his chin on his hand and looked at Go Hoon with quiet eyes.
“What else?”
He added, almost like he was prompting him.
“What else do you want me to stop doing?”
That tone—that attitude, like he’d stop doing anything if Go Hoon just asked—really didn’t sit well with him.
But he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Go Hoon bit the inside of his lip, then finally muttered,
“Don’t wander around. Just go straight home.”
That blunt reply was the last thing he said before quickly getting out of the car. He didn’t look back and headed straight for the alley.
Bae Jung-yoon didn’t follow. But somehow, Go Hoon still felt a ticklish gaze pressing against the back of his head.
What he didn’t know was this—
—that even if you deleted photos from your gallery, you could still restore them from the “Recently Deleted” folder within 30 days.
And that Bae Jung-yoon, fully aware of that fact, had brought the photo back the moment Go Hoon disappeared from view and quietly tucked it back into his gallery.
***
After that day, Park Ki-cheol left the team project group chat.
No one said anything about it. Not Bae Jung-yoon, not Kim Yeo-jin, not even Go Hoon—no one mentioned his name again.
Naturally, Park Ki-cheol didn’t show up for class either. Even after days passed—more than enough time for him to have been discharged—he was nowhere to be seen.
Not many people seemed to care. Park Ki-cheol had always been like that—more trouble than he was worth. For most people, it was better he was gone.
That kind of quiet erasure happened all the time. One person simply disappears from the social circle, and life goes on.
Just like that, Park Ki-cheol’s presence faded from everyone’s mind.
Surprisingly, Kim Yeo-jin seemed fine.
But Go Hoon couldn’t help but worry. She looked okay on the outside, sure—but who could know what was really going on inside?
The one silver lining was that, without Park Ki-cheol, their group project started progressing a lot more smoothly.
The materials Ki-cheol never got around to sending were eventually wrapped up by Bae Jung-yoon, and Go Hoon began pulling the PowerPoint presentation together. And that’s when Bae Jung-yoon’s stubbornness kicked in.
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[PPT—when should we start working on it?]
7:41 PM
To be honest, when he first said he’d help with the slides, Go Hoon thought it was just something people said to be polite. But to his surprise, Jung-yoon actually seemed serious about it.
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[How about tomorrow? I’m free.]
7:43 PM
Naturally, Go Hoon refused. He preferred to do things on his own—it was just easier that way.
But ever since what happened with Park Ki-cheol, he wasn’t sure how to deal with Jung-yoon anymore.
The guy was constantly on his mind. When they were together, Go Hoon found himself watching his every move. It made him want to keep his distance. But Jung-yoon wouldn’t back down.
He insisted that, as the one doing the presentation, it was important to create slides that supported his delivery—and that working together was the best way to make that happen.
He wasn’t wrong. In the end, after a bit of back and forth, Go Hoon gave in with a sigh, worn down by his persistence.
And so the two of them went to a café, carrying a laptop between them.
They sat side by side on a cushioned bench, the laptop open between them, heads bent together as they worked on the slides.
Thanks to Jung-yoon’s suggestions, the framework was coming together nicely. They were making good progress. But as Go Hoon focused, his attention briefly wandered.
He was tired—mentally and physically—and now a swollen ulcer had formed on the inside of his lower lip. Every time he spoke, yawned, or ate, it would scrape against his teeth, sending sharp little jabs of pain. For some reason, the sting was addictive, and his tongue kept drifting to it.
With his arms crossed, Go Hoon glanced sideways at Bae Jung-yoon. The cause of his stress was right there beside him—and yet, here they were, working on a presentation like nothing was wrong. The whole situation felt surreal.
He stole another glance at Jung-yoon’s serious expression, focused entirely on the laptop, and turned toward the window. The weather was annoyingly perfect—the kind of day you’d want to spend out somewhere, doing anything but this. Or maybe just sleeping in all afternoon.
Lost in thought, he pressed his tongue against the sore spot again. And then, suddenly, a hand gripped his chin.
His head was turned abruptly, and he found himself face to face with Bae Jung-yoon—who was staring intently at his lips.
“Open your mouth.”
Seriously? Go Hoon just furrowed his brow slightly and kept his mouth shut. But then Jung-yoon used his thumb to pry his lips open, gently peeling back the swollen skin.
