“Young Master.”
At that moment, the aide entered the room, calling out to him in a cautious voice. As he was in the middle of changing his clothes, he turned around. The aide, who had approached in quick steps, handed him a letter hidden within his coat.
“It’s a message from the district chief.”
The reply to the letter he had sent from the district’s border had already arrived yesterday. He pondered whether there was any reason for the district chief to send another letter so urgently, but nothing came to mind.
It hadn’t even been a full day since he arrived in District 5. What could there possibly be to say? His brows furrowed as he tore open the envelope, which bore the seal of District 1, with a rough hand.
As he read through the hasty and barely legible handwriting, his expression twisted, unable to hide his displeasure. His grip on the letter gradually tightened, and by the time he finished reading, the paper was crumpled beyond recognition, practically no better than trash.
“Young Master, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
His words and expression did not match, but the aide wisely kept silent. In times like this, staying quiet was the best course of action. There was no benefit in provoking a Shining’s temper.
Ironically, the contents of the letter were nothing special. It was merely a warm message, urging him not to be swayed by personal emotions and to conduct his investigation thoroughly.
But he was no fool; he understood this was a warning from the district chief. And the final words, ‘I believe in you,’ were almost laughable.
‘Who believes in whom?’
Instead of cursing, he let out a deep sigh and threw the crumpled letter aside. The aide, hastily bowing, retrieved it and discreetly placed it back inside an envelope, wary of anyone seeing it.
“Young Master, your arm….”
Only then did the aide notice the blood seeping through the white fabric of his shirt, his eyes widening in alarm. Lowering his gaze, he saw the bright red stain spreading across the cloth but merely shrugged as if it was nothing.
Ignoring the aide’s insistence that he needed immediate treatment, he casually put on a light outer garment to cover his arm. Even as he stood before the mirror, adjusting his hair, the aide continued his worried rambling.
“Young Master, if the wound worsens, at least apply some medicine—”
“Enough. I’ll be late for dinner.”
With a bright smile, he cut off the aide’s words. The warning in his eyes was clear—if you don’t shut up this instant, I’ll put a bullet in your head. The aide caught on quickly and immediately sealed his lips.
Lightly patting the aide on his pale, trembling shoulder, he stepped out of the room first. The aide, still shaking, hurried to follow him.
The closer he got to the dining hall, the more the emotions he had forced into silence began to stir once again. The faint traces of pheromones lingering throughout the mansion tickled his nose.
Did Seo-yul even realize how much this scent drove him insane? Then again, what would a clumsy omega, who couldn’t even properly suppress his own pheromones, possibly know?
“I greet the young master of District 1.”
The butler waiting outside the dining hall was the first to greet him. His hardened expression softened into a faint smile. The butler, who had briefly lifted his head, hesitated upon seeing that dazzling smile.
“Connor, don’t be so stiff. We’ve spent quite a bit of time together, haven’t we?”
The butler remained silent. It might have sounded kind on the surface, but he knew all too well the meaning hidden beneath those words. As he left the pale-faced butler behind and stepped inside, he found only Se-yul at the table.
Seo-yul, as expected, was nowhere to be seen.
“I was wondering when you’d arrive.”
“Well, thanks to certain people, I was a little delayed.”
The invisible battle of wits had begun once more. Their lips curved into smiles, but the way they looked at each other was anything but pleasant. He walked over to the empty seat and sat down, with Se-yul following suit.
As soon as the two were seated, the waiting attendants filled the table with light dishes that wouldn’t feel burdensome. He frowned as he picked up a pair of chopsticks—something he never had to use in District 1.
Seo-yul had taught him multiple times, but no matter what, he just couldn’t get used to them. As expected, using chopsticks after so long made his fingers stiff, and they weren’t cooperating as well as he’d like.
The meal turned out to be more of a struggle than he had anticipated. Once he finally finished eating, the attendants swiftly cleared the empty dishes and brought out after-meal tea. He stared at the deep red liquid in his teacup for a moment before stopping one of the attendants as they moved away.
“Is there no cocoa instead?”
“Cocoa, sir?”
The sudden request made the attendant’s eyes widen. The butler standing nearby stepped forward, gently pushing the attendant aside, and told him to wait a moment. Soon after, the butler placed a mug filled with steaming cocoa in front of him.
A smile, one he couldn’t quite suppress, crept onto his lips as he took a sip, the marshmallows melting gently into the drink. It was ridiculous how much he had missed the cocoa here—almost as much as he had missed Seo-yul.
The day he was freed from the warehouse, the cocoa they drank together in Seo-yul’s room had tasted unbelievably good. As he stared into the swirling darkness of the drink, his gaze was lost in old memories.
“Shining.”
Snapping out of it, he lifted his head to look at Se-yul. So now, even the formality of ‘sir’ was gone? He was simply ‘Shining’ now.
Logically, Han Se-yul should have been trying to stay on his good side. After all, a single word from him could determine the amount of resources District 1 would allocate to this place. Not that it mattered—no matter what Han Se-yul did, the outcome had already been decided.
“While you’re staying here, I was thinking of assigning someone to assist you—”
“What, to keep an eye on me?”
Cutting off Se-yul’s words, he smiled sweetly. Se-yul quickly denied it and launched into an elaborate explanation, but it was an obvious and pathetic excuse.
“As you know, after the commotion this morning, the attendants seem hesitant to approach you. But we can’t exactly leave a guest from our district unattended, can we?”
As Se-yul continued talking, the door suddenly opened, and someone stepped inside. Vin, who had been absentmindedly staring into his cocoa, immediately lifted his head the moment a rich chocolate scent brushed past his nose.
“So, my brother agreed to help you for a week.”
What do you think? Se-yul finished his sentence with a casual shrug. But Vin didn’t hear a word of it. From the moment Seo-yul had entered the room, his entire attention had been stolen away.
Logically, he understood. He knew exactly why Han Se-yul wanted to keep Seo-yul close to him. It was either to keep an eye on him to prevent another incident like this morning or to butter him up so he’d go easy on this investigation.
He knew all this in his head, and yet, there was no helping it—he was powerless against such an obvious ploy. Because there was no way he could refuse Seo-yul.
His grip around the mug tightened. Crack. He glanced down at the sound, realizing that the handle had snapped off. Lowering his bleeding hand, he smoothed out the excitement threatening to show on his face.
“What if I say no?”
“As if.”
Se-yul was confident. He was absolutely sure that Vin would never refuse this offer. Even as the uncomfortable silence stretched on, Vin’s gaze kept drifting toward the doorway, where Seo-yul stood frozen. As if something beyond his control kept pulling him toward him.
“…Fine, do as you please.”
In the end, he surrendered. Se-yul smiled knowingly, as if he had expected this outcome all along. Rising from his seat, he approached Seo-yul, placed a hand on his shoulder, and whispered something before walking out of the dining hall, leaving only the two of them behind.
“You’ll be seeing each other for the next week, so why not at least say hello?”
And with that, Se-yul was gone. The dining hall, now occupied solely by Vin and Seo-yul, fell into silence.
Vin clenched his trembling fingers into a tight fist, so focused on the moment that he even forgot the sting in his injured hand. Should he say Nice to meet you? Or maybe I’m happy that Seo-yul hyung will be helping me?
It felt like he needed to say something to break this awkward silence. Just as he opened his mouth, Seo-yul bowed deeply.
“I’ll be in your care for the next week.”
Once again, Seo-yul drew a line between them, treating him like a complete stranger. Swallowing down all the words he wanted to say, Vin loosened his clenched fingers.
Scrape. He pushed back his chair and stood. The slight flinch of Seo-yul’s shoulders didn’t escape his notice. Suppressing his rising irritation, Vin took a step forward. Then another. Slowly closing the distance between them.
With each breath, he could feel the poorly suppressed scent of Seo-yul’s pheromones filling the space. The thick, chocolatey aroma clung to his lungs, drying out his mouth.
In his mind, he had already grabbed Seo-yul’s shoulders, backed him into a corner, and stolen a kiss. But in reality, he did nothing. No—he couldn’t bring himself to.
“Seo-yul hyung.”
The name of the person he longed for, even in his dreams, slipped from his lips. But Seo-yul didn’t lift his head.
Vin wanted to grab his chin again, force him to meet his gaze like he had before—but he didn’t. There was no point. Seo-yul would only draw another line between them.
You already know, don’t you? You know exactly what you need to do to get Seo-yul hyung’s attention.
Slowly, Vin opened his wounded palm. He lowered his hand, letting Seo-yul see the blood-streaked skin.
Finally, Seo-yul lifted his gaze. His eyes wavered, filled with concern. Yes, that look. It was exactly the same as back then—when he had looked at him in that dark, suffocating warehouse.
Vin’s lips twitched, threatening to curl into a grin, but he suppressed it and instead put on his most pitiful expression.
“It hurts, Seo-yul hyung.”
A trembling hand reached out and gently took hold of his own.
This was the kind of person Seo-yul was. Kind-hearted. Someone who cared for the weak and the wounded.
So now that they had met again, Vin had only one role to play. He had to become someone Seo-yul couldn’t help but feel sorry for.
“Please… take care of me.”
Because that was the only way to make Seo-yul open his heart to him again.
