When I wanted to avoid him, I was the one walking toward him of my own accord. It was because of Se-yul’s request—his desperate plea as he held my hand, saying the fate of the district was at stake. But in truth, what did any of that matter?
Still, I hid my real feelings behind every excuse I could think of. I told myself it was all for District 5, that I just wanted to keep safe the district I had barely managed to change its fate.
Standing in front of the dining room, I hesitated one last time before opening the door. This was my only chance to run. I could turn around right now, go back to my room, and avoid him for a week. That had been the plan from the start.
But before I knew it, my hand was already twisting the doorknob, and my feet had taken me inside. Only then was I forced to admit it—I wanted to see him, even if it had to be like this.
The moment I faced him, I instinctively concealed my emotions. What right did I have to miss him after being the one to send him away? He would be returning to District 1 in a week anyway. I just had to remember that.
“Hyung, I’m really sorry for asking this of you.”
Se-yul whispered as he approached. The hand patting my shoulder trembled slightly. The brief glance we exchanged was filled with guilt. Forcing myself to smile, I pretended I was fine.
Once Se-yul left, the dining room, now just the two of us, became saturated with his pheromones. He made no effort to hide the joy radiating from them as he stepped closer. Then, out of nowhere, he held up his injured hand.
“It hurts, Seo-yul hyung.”
“…….”
“Please take care of me.”
I had thought the version of him I remembered was long gone. But now that I was facing him properly, he looked exactly like the Vin from eight years ago, whining for me to take care of his wounded hand.
‘Of course, he’s the same person.’
I asked a waiting attendant outside to bring a first-aid kit. The attendant, fearing Vin might see him, hurriedly handed it through the crack of the door before quickly shutting it again.
Alone together, the dining room was eerily quiet. Maybe it was the tense atmosphere, but even with sunlight streaming through the window, it felt as if the room was cloaked in darkness.
“Seo-yul hyung.”
He called my name. Clutching the first-aid kit, I slowly approached him. He pulled out a chair and placed it right in front of him, tapping the seat as if telling me to sit.
“Hurry up.”
Hesitant, I sat down. The closeness was uncomfortable—our knees nearly touching—so I subtly pushed my chair back. His bright smile faltered for a moment, his brows knitting slightly.
“Give me your hand—”
Before I could finish my sentence, he obediently opened his hand for me to see. It was a mess, as if something sharp had clawed across it. His once fair and delicate hand was wounded, yet he still smiled brightly, as if he felt no pain at all.
Suppressing my frustration, I took out some cotton and disinfectant from the first aid kit and began treating him. As I dabbed at the wound with the soaked cotton, he flinched slightly, his face tightening for a brief moment.
Was it hurting too much for him to bear? I glanced at his expression to check, hesitated briefly, then resumed my movements. Every time I gently tapped the wound with the damp cotton, his hand trembled ever so slightly.
“Do you remember? When I first came here, you treated me just like this.”
“…….”
“It really hurt back then. But I didn’t want to show it because I thought you’d look down on me. Isn’t that funny?”
He let out a laugh as he recalled the memory. I focused on treating his wound, pretending not to listen. Otherwise, I felt like he would see right through me—see the longing I was desperately trying to hide.
Once I finished disinfecting, I reached for the ointment. That was when I noticed a dark stain on his shirt, partially hidden beneath his outerwear. At first, I thought it was food from a meal, but on closer inspection, I realized it was dried blood.
“This…”
I quickly rolled up his sleeve, revealing a fresh wound slashing across his pale arm. It looked like it had been cut by something razor-sharp, and though the bleeding had mostly stopped, it was clear the injury was recent.
“Where did you get hurt?”
“…I don’t remember.”
He hesitated before giving me a vague answer, averting his gaze. I bit my lip, swallowing back the emotions rising in my throat. When did he become so used to getting hurt? The boy in my memories had hated pain more than anyone.
Pushing down my frustration, I soaked another cotton pad with disinfectant. As I carefully cleaned around the wound, I realized, thankfully, that it wasn’t as deep as I had feared. It would leave a scar, but in time, even that would fade.
“Seo-yul.”
As I rummaged through the first aid kit for ointment, he reached out and took hold of my wrist. His cool fingers brushed over the veins that protruded slightly from my skin, sending a shiver up my spine.
When I lifted my head, our eyes met. His gaze was fixed on me, his lips curled into a soft, melting smile as he whispered sweetly,
“Didn’t you miss me, Seo-yul?”
“…….”
“I missed you so much.”
His fingers wove between mine, locking our hands together. Then, bringing my hand to his lips, he placed a delicate kiss on the back of it. His lips, tinged with the color of blooming flowers, left no visible mark—but the warmth lingered.
Before I could be completely consumed by the deepening floral scent in the air, I pulled my hand away. Ignoring the flicker of emotion in his eyes, I grabbed the ointment from the kit.
“I need to apply the ointment, so give me your hand—”
A sudden surge of floral pheromones hit me, cutting off my words. I could feel his emotions clearly now—anger, sharp and unrestrained. Outwardly, he showed no sign of it, but his scent betrayed him.
Gently, he cupped my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. Despite the tension radiating from him, he still wore that same carefree smile. His pheromones were razor-sharp, restless and storming, yet he looked nothing but delighted.
“Can’t you stop with that ridiculous polite speech?”
“…….”
“You’re trying to put distance between us, but it’s pointless. Just talk to me like before. You’re more comfortable that way too, aren’t you?”
Right? He tilted his head slightly as he asked, his fingers still gripping my chin. Then, as if forcing my answer, he gently moved my head in a nodding motion. Even though it was a coerced response, he still looked immensely satisfied.
“I don’t know about you, but I never forgot about you for even a second, Seo-yul.”
“…….”
“Not even for a single moment.”
His pheromones, which had been pressing down on me, finally withdrew. My tense shoulders loosened, but I still couldn’t move. His hand, which had been teasing my chin, slowly slid down the sensitive curve of my neck and lightly tapped my collarbone over my clothes.
I knew exactly what this kind of touch meant, yet because it was him, it left me utterly bewildered. When his gaze, which had drifted downward, returned to meet mine, I saw the small sparks of something dangerous flickering within them.
This is bad.
Alarm bells went off in my head.
The hand that had been tapping my collarbone moved lower, gripping the nape of my neck lightly. Then, he slowly leaned in, closing the distance between us. I turned my head sharply to avoid his approaching face, and he halted abruptly.
His fingers, which had been resting on my nape, tightened for a moment before loosening again. His body temperature was naturally cooler than others, yet strangely, the hand touching me felt burning hot.
With a deep sigh, he rested his forehead against my shoulder. His soft hair brushed against my neck, carrying a faint shampoo scent. We used the same shampoo, yet at this moment, it felt both familiar and foreign, leaving my throat unbearably dry.
“Seo-yul, say my name,” he whispered.
The hand on my nape trailed down my back, tracing a long, deliberate line along my spine. My body flinched involuntarily. Trying to suppress my reaction, I clenched my eyes shut and started counting numbers in my head.
“Seo-yul.”
Before things could escalate any further, I pushed against his broad shoulders. He let go without resistance, stepping back effortlessly as if nothing had happened. But I was not unaffected.
Rubbing the spot where his fingers had touched, I let out a shaky breath. No matter how many times I tried to rid myself of his warmth, the sensation of his touch refused to fade. It felt like an invisible mark had been burned onto my skin.
Unable to bear it any longer, I shot up from my seat. The first aid kit, which had been resting on my lap, tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there.
“The treatment isn’t finished yet.”
He caught my wrist just as I turned to leave. When I instinctively tried to shake him off, he held out his arm—the one I had disinfected but hadn’t yet applied ointment to.
“You can put it on yourself,” I said through gritted teeth.
What the hell did he expect me to do? If I stayed here any longer, I wouldn’t be able to contain the frustration bubbling inside me. I stood there, my eyes blazing, and he simply smiled—a slow, melting expression.
“You’re not using formal speech anymore.”
“……!!”
Shit.
It was already too late to take my words back. One of the carefully built walls I had erected between us had just crumbled in an instant. That was my mistake.
“It’s just for a week.”
“…….”
“Forget everything for a week. Treat me like before.”
His voice was unbearably sweet. Just for a week, he said. Pretend like nothing had changed. Pretend like the past eight years of absence never happened. Pretend like this was all just some dream.
“Seo-yul.”
His voice, calling my name so insistently, was dangerously close to making me agree. Just as I was about to nod, the door to the restaurant swung open.
Both of us turned at the same time toward the unexpected intruder.
“Uh, Young Master—”
One of the attendants from Sector 1 hesitated at the entrance, clearly nervous. The warmth vanished from his face in an instant, replaced by a cold, displeased expression. He let out a long sigh.
Snapping back to my senses, I swallowed the words that had almost slipped out.
He stood up and walked toward the attendant. Leaning in, he whispered something in a low voice. The color drained from the attendant’s face immediately.
Patting the trembling attendant on the shoulder, he turned back toward me just before stepping out of the restaurant. As if nothing had happened, his face bloomed into a bright, dazzling smile.
“Then, I’ll be in your care for the next week, Seo-yul.”
