The four bowls of noodles didn’t take long to prepare. With the sound of water boiling, Hae-hyun worked quickly, and soon a savory aroma filled the room.
“Thank you for the food.”
As soon as the dishes were placed on the table, Hae-ryeong’s face lit up. She sat quietly, accepting the spoon from Hae-hee. Jae-ha, sitting idly by under the guise of being a guest, was also handed one.
The moment he tasted the noodles, a rich, salty flavor spread through his mouth. Before Hae-hyun started cooking, Jae-ha had checked the counter and seen nothing but ordinary seasonings. Was he using some sort of energy or technique? The noodles were suspiciously good.
“As expected from Ju Hae-hyun. When are you coming back home? Isn’t it about time?”
Stuffing noodles into her mouth like she was trying to hoard them in her cheeks, Hae-ryeong spoke through puffed cheeks with surprising clarity.
“Seriously, you know it’s miserable living on your own. Stop making us suffer and just come back already.”
Slurping down her broth, Hae-hee chimed in just as fervently. The two sisters were more like twins than siblings.
“I’m not going back. I’m staying with sunbae.”
Hae-hyun answered curtly, chewing his noodles like nothing had happened. Clicking her tongue, Hae-ryeong scolded him.
“You like the Cheonrok that much? Enough to abandon your family?”
Wasn’t it less about abandoning family and more about abandoning his freeloaders?
“Cheonrok? Jae-ha oppa is a Cheonrok? Cheonrok even has descendants?”
Hae-hee’s eyes widened in shock. When Hae-ryeong nodded, she started babbling about how it must explain the strange feeling of love at first sight.
After dinner, while Jae-ha helped with the dishes, Hae-hyun—who had disappeared midway—reappeared just as they finished. Grabbing Jae-ha’s hand, he tugged him along, brimming with excitement like a child going on a picnic.
“Let’s go to my room. I put out the best blanket in the house. You’ll love it, sunbae.”
“What? Why would you…”
In a mansion like this, “the best blanket” had to mean some ridiculously expensive bedding set. Staying in this house without the adults present was already burdensome enough, and now he’d somehow been made to use their finest linens too. Jae-ha shut his eyes, heavy with guilt.
With long strides, Hae-hyun led him down the hall and threw open a door. Tugged along by his grip, Jae-ha stumbled inside before he knew it.
The room was spacious—easily bigger than his tiny apartment. Dodging around Hae-hyun’s broad back, he glanced around.
“This is your room?”
“Yes.”
Earlier, when they were touring, Hae-hyun’s parents had shown up before he’d gotten this far. It was an unexpected opportunity. The more he tried to keep his distance, the more he ended up learning about him. Still, it wasn’t like he was planning to live here—just looking wouldn’t hurt.
The room looked exactly like a boy his age might keep. The earthen-colored walls and thick beams still carried the house’s old-fashioned charm, but unlike the reception hall, there were few traditional furnishings. Instead, bookshelves, a wardrobe, drawers, a huge bed, a desk, a mini-fridge, a sofa, a table, and even a TV filled the space. A bit much for a kid’s room, honestly…
What shocked him more was how much empty space remained despite all that furniture. Looking between the bed and the sofa, set far apart, he thought you could easily fit another bed in between.
“…It’s enormous.”
This wasn’t just a room—it was practically an annex. Living here, then adjusting to Jae-ha’s cramped studio, must’ve been rough, yet Hae-hyun never once complained.
“It’s nothing. Do you want to brush your teeth first? Here’s a disposable toothbrush. I’ll grab some clothes for you too.”
Hae-hyun had been oddly animated all evening, his eyes shining brighter than usual, almost uncomfortably so. Pressed by his enthusiasm, Jae-ha nodded and went into the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, feeling strangely self-conscious.
The bathroom was as big as a master bath in a normal home. Though Hae-hyun had been away for some time, the gleaming white tiles shone as if they’d been meticulously maintained. The large, gold-rimmed mirror reflected Jae-ha standing awkwardly in the unfamiliar setting.
He hadn’t thought twice about letting Hae-hyun live in his space, but being in his room made him strangely tense. To shake off the feeling, he hurried through brushing his teeth, washing his face, and changing clothes. The loungewear Hae-hyun had given him was a bit big but comfortable enough.
“I’m done. Your turn.”
“Y-yeah…”
At his voice, Hae-hyun turned immediately, only to freeze. What’s with that look? Did he not wash properly? Awkward, Jae-ha ruffled his damp bangs, scattering a few droplets. The oversized T-shirt fluttered with the movement.
“What?”
The intense stare brought the tension rushing back. It felt like being interviewed. Covering his awkwardness, he asked shortly. Hae-hyun shook his head, but his eyes stayed fixed on him.
“It feels strange.”
The words came out blunt and incomplete.
“What does?”
“Just… seeing you here, sunbae.”
Honestly, Jae-ha thought so too. Even when they’d been in that “are we or aren’t we” stage, he had never once pictured visiting Hae-hyun’s home. He’d never even considered it—his house, his family, none of it.
Yet here he was, in a place that was anything but ordinary, dressed in borrowed clothes, preparing to spend the night. Fidgeting, he tugged at the hem of his shirt.
“Is it that strange?”
At his question, Hae-hyun shook his head fiercely.
“No, it’s good. I want you to come here every day. I want you to live here with me.”
He blurted it out with the fervor of a speechmaker. Even he seemed startled by how intense it sounded. His large frame stiffened in embarrassment, silence stretching between them.
Then Jae-ha laughed.
He hadn’t been able to stop it. He shouldn’t laugh. He needed to keep his distance. But the words had been so absurd, so unlike him, that the laughter just burst out.
Really? Wasn’t he the one who’d once insisted Jae-ha could never live here? He was still such a kid. Jae-ha’s lips curved, showing a hint of teeth, his eyes bending with amusement.
“You’re just too damn cute.”
The words slipped out before he realized it.
Hae-hyun stared blankly, then his face hardened. Without a word, he strode forward. Startled, Jae-ha glanced at him, but instead of speaking, he brushed right past, fast enough to stir the air.
He marched straight into the bathroom. Clack. The door shut loudly behind him.
It took a moment for Jae-ha to catch on. Covering his mouth with a hand, he stifled another laugh. For the poor, embarrassed puppy who had fled in a panic, it was the least courtesy he could give.
It was quite a while before Hae-hyun emerged again. Lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, Jae-ha turned at the sound of the door.
“Took you long enough.”
“…I always take a while.”
Still clinging to pride, Hae-hyun trudged over. No wonder the water had run so long—unlike Jae-ha, who had just washed up, he’d actually showered. From the drawer he fished out a hair dryer. Watching him, Jae-ha called.
“Hae-hyun.”
“Yes?”
He wasn’t sure why he said it.
Maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was because his guard was down, maybe it was just that strangely buoyant mood when, for no reason at all, everything feels possible.
Maybe… this time. That faint, reckless hope stirred.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but he had always felt wronged. No matter how hard he tried, the regret clung stubbornly, spilling over. Really? You’re telling me it’s not? That you don’t feel anything for me at all?
So Jae-ha decided he would ask one last time.
Setting aside pride, stubbornness, and defiance—just once more.
