“…Aren’t you going to eat?”
Then he pushed the untouched side dishes with meat over to Tae-yi. As the dish scraped across the table, Tae-yi’s gaze dropped. He looked down at the food in front of him, and only then picked up his spoon. Seeing that, Haram also resumed eating.
Once the meal was mostly finished, Haram spoke to Tae-yi, who was drinking water.
“When are we going to the hospital again? Oh, if you’re busy, I can go alone!”
He started speaking under the assumption they’d go together but belatedly worried that he might be burdening him. His big, chestnut-shaped eyes flicked toward Tae-yi anxiously.
“They said today’s test results won’t come out until late tonight. If you’ve got more questions for Professor Yoon, let’s go tomorrow.”
“Is it really okay to keep asking Professor Yoon questions? Isn’t he super busy? I mean, he’s a professor…”
“He’s probably waiting for you to ask something.”
It was the plain truth. These days, Professor Yoon’s sole focus was Da Haram. Sensing Haram’s needless concern, Tae-yi continued, trying to reassure him.
“If going to him in person feels like too much, I can just give you his contact info.”
“Ah, no, it’s fine. They’re just minor questions—I can just look them up myself.”
Haram even waved his hand to turn down the offer, prompting Tae-yi to ask curiously,
“What kind of minor questions?”
Haram hesitated before responding in a quiet, sheepish voice.
“…I don’t really know much about designations, so I thought I’d study up a bit. But I haven’t accepted it or anything yet…!”
He absolutely hadn’t accepted being an Omega. He just figured there was no harm in learning more about it…
“Didn’t you learn about it in school?”
Tae-yi tilted his head slightly. Wasn’t this part of the standard curriculum? Every school taught about secondary genders—it was mandatory. But apparently not at Haram’s school, because his pale face tinged faintly red.
“There weren’t any designated students at our school, so… I think we just watched this four-hour-long video once… maybe?”
His voice trailed off, fumbling awkwardly, and Tae-yi let out a short chuckle.
“You didn’t pay attention, huh?”
At the teasing tone, Haram’s head shot up in alarm as he rushed to explain.
“No! I just don’t remember—it was a long time ago!”
“It hasn’t been that long since you graduated.”
Tae-yi now openly grinned, and Haram grew increasingly flustered.
“Just so you don’t get the wrong idea—I was a good student, okay?”
“Did I say you weren’t?”
“I was always in the top ten in my class during middle and high school.”
“How many students were in your class?”
“Fif…teen… I think…?”
Tae-yi, who had been chuckling quietly, suddenly burst into full-blown laughter loud enough to shake the kitchen. Haram’s brow furrowed more and more, unable to understand what was so funny.
“Why are you laughing? I’m not lying!”
With his silvery ears perked stiffly above his head, Haram declared with all seriousness. Only then did Tae-yi manage to rein in his laughter.
“Ah, sorry.”
Even after the apology, Haram didn’t respond, instead silently gathering his dishes and heading to the sink. Tae-yi watched the clearly irritated boy march past him toward the living room, then followed after him.
“I wasn’t making fun of you. I know you weren’t some delinquent squirrel.”
He could easily imagine Haram’s school life. He couldn’t even picture him slouching in a chair, let alone acting out. Honestly, it was easier to imagine him getting dragged around by the troublemakers.
“Delinquent squirrel…? I told you—I’m a Sky Squirrel.”
Thanks to Tae-yi pairing the word “delinquent” with “squirrel,” Haram’s lips twitched despite himself. He didn’t want to seem like an easy target, so he tried to hold back his smile, but in the end, the corners of his mouth lifted anyway.
Tae-yi smiled gently as he watched Haram’s silver-gray tail swish. He reached out and grabbed Haram’s hand, tugging him toward the stairs. Haram twisted and turned to shake free, but Tae-yi only gripped the smaller hand tighter.
“Why are you holding my hand…?”
“So how were you planning to study? Just going to look stuff up online?”
Still holding his hand firmly, Tae-yi walked down the second-floor hallway without hesitation. Haram stopped resisting and answered.
“Huh? Oh… yeah. And if I have more questions, I was going to ask Doctor Da In-ho or Professor Yoon.”
“Da In-ho?”
That name, coming up before Professor Yoon, immediately irked Tae-yi. His brow furrowed. Haram, noticing the shift, tilted his head, puzzled, and only then did Tae-yi relax his expression.
“He said I could ask for help anytime… Oh. Maybe he was just being polite?”
“Yeah, just polite. Interpreters are super busy.”
“…He’s a doctor, though.”
Wait, did Tae-yi seriously think Doctor Da In-ho was just an interpreter? Well, either way, he was busy, so maybe it really had been a polite gesture.
As Haram fell silent, clearly overthinking things, Tae-yi finally brought up what he’d been meaning to say.
“Learn from me. I’ll teach you.”
“Do you know a lot about designations?”
“Yeah. I’ve been learning about them since I was a kid. It’s exhausting.”
“Really?”
So they start teaching about this stuff from a young age in the city, huh? Makes sense, given there are way more designated people there than in the sticks.
Tae-yi didn’t wait for a response. As if he’d already heard it, he kept hold of Haram’s small hand and led him onward. Haram, assuming they were heading to the study, stopped walking when he realized they weren’t.
“We’re not studying in the study?”
“Did you want to?”
“Not really… but there’s no desk in your room, so… Just do what’s comfortable for you.”
Since he was the one learning, Haram figured he’d follow Tae-yi’s lead. Pleased with that answer, Tae-yi lightly pushed the door open.
***
The once-empty room now felt warm, imbued with the presence of the person who stayed in it. A faint nutty scent lingered—whether it was Haram’s natural scent or pheromones from an inexperienced Omega was unclear.
Tae-yi, intending to guide Haram toward the bed, paused as he felt a slight resistance from the hand he held. He looked down and saw Haram’s pale, snow-like hand—hands like someone who’d grown up never once touched by sunlight, like a farmer sealed away all his life.
Tae-yi slightly loosened his grip, noting Haram didn’t seem like he planned to let go. It was a deliberate move, confident that Haram wouldn’t release him.
Sure enough, Haram continued clutching Tae-yi’s large hand, unaware the other had relaxed his grip. That simple, almost meaningless gesture stirred an unexpected sense of satisfaction within Tae-yi.
“What’s wrong…?”
Though Tae-yi had dragged him to the room, he now stood still by the door, a faint smirk on his lips. Confused, Haram looked around with wide eyes, wondering if something was wrong with the room. But it was spotless—he’d made the bed in the morning, aired it out, everything was perfect.
As Haram blinked rapidly in confusion, Tae-yi motioned with his eyes. Haram followed the gaze down and realized he was still clutching Tae-yi’s hand all by himself. Startled, he abruptly let go—practically flinging the hand away.
It could almost be called a slap, but Tae-yi only laughed at the sight of Haram’s flushed red face.
“…Quit teasing me.”
Tae-yi nodded innocently, understanding the barely audible grumble, then walked toward the bed.
Tae-yi sat comfortably on the mattress, but Haram lingered awkwardly at the bedside, unable to withstand the pressure of Tae-yi’s gaze. In the end, he sat down next to him, tail stiff with tension.
They’d been alone in a room together before, but this time, the awkwardness was unbearable. Haram gripped the edge of the blanket for no reason, unable to shake the discomfort. Part of it was Tae-yi’s silence. He’d promised to teach him about designations but hadn’t said a word since they sat down.
Unable to endure the silence and intense stare, Haram finally spoke.
“If I really am an Omega… would I have pheromones, too? I don’t think I’ve ever smelled mine… or anyone else’s…”
Every time, he tacked on that “if” like a shield, desperately denying reality. But to Tae-yi, it was almost endearing. He knew that gently entertaining Haram’s denial while slowly nudging him toward reality would ease his anxiety—and make him lean on Tae-yi even more.
“Maybe you already did… without realizing it?”
“Without realizing it?”
Had he really? Was it possible he’d just been unaware? If so, maybe his designation didn’t manifest that recently after all.
“Don’t overthink it.”
It wasn’t much comfort, but it was said with genuine care. Tae-yi didn’t want Haram to spiral.
He ruffled the silver hair playfully, yet Haram remained deep in thought, biting his lower lip over and over. It was a meaningless habit—but to some, it could be… provocative.
Tae-yi, almost entranced, gently pressed his fingertip against the soft lips. At the unexpected touch, Haram’s tail shot up and he held his breath.
His lips felt like a fruit wrapped in thin skin—so delicate they might burst with the slightest pressure.
Tae-yi smoothed his fingers over them, tracing their shape. Haram’s pupils trembled, and the tip of his tongue, barely visible between parted lips, glistened with moisture.
“T-Tae-yi…”
At the flustered whisper, Tae-yi slowly lowered his hand. As if waiting for that moment, Haram immediately clamped his lips shut.
