As thoughts piled up, my mind grew blank. They say that the more you think, the more numb you become, and right now, I was the perfect example of that. Leaning helplessly against the window frame, too drained to even lift a finger, I sat there idly as the world outside was gradually swallowed by darkness.
I stared vacantly at the sky, which grew dimmer as the sun set, when a faint engine sound reached me through the closed window. That meant he and Se-yul had returned. Only then did I finally leave my room.
Crossing over to the annex, I headed straight for his room. A group of butlers and attendants gathered outside greeted me. Judging by their uneasy expressions, he was already inside.
“Young Master, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
The butler, who clearly saw through my obvious lie, couldn’t hide his worry. Even as I lowered my voice to explain what needed to be done—so that the person inside wouldn’t hear—the butler continued to grumble, blaming Se-yul for entrusting me with this task.
“Of all people, why must Young Master be the one to handle such an unpleasant job? I simply cannot understand Young Master Se-yul.”
I told him it was fine, but honestly, I didn’t feel that way. For the past week, as I stayed by his side, the only thing on my mind had been how to keep myself from wavering.
Se-yul believed I could persuade him, but that wasn’t true at all. I wouldn’t even be able to bring up the topic of the district with him. With what face could I possibly ask him for such a favor?
“If you need anything, please call for me.”
“Okay.”
“Please remember—just do what needs to be done and leave immediately.”
I nodded in response instead of speaking. After repeating his warnings several times, the butler finally left with the attendants. Left alone, I stood before the tightly shut door.
Just as I raised my hand to knock, the doorknob suddenly turned, and he opened the door first. The wall that had separated us vanished, and with nowhere else to look, our gazes locked.
He had just finished bathing. The only thing covering him was a white robe. Droplets of water dripped from his still-damp hair, trailing down and dampening his shoulders.
Because the loosely tied belt left a small gap in the robe, the only way to avoid seeing it was to look at his face. But when I met his direct gaze, I became so flustered that I instinctively lowered my eyes—only to snap them back up in alarm.
“Welcome, Seo-yul hyung.”
He greeted me with a bright smile. Still unsettled, I stiffly nodded and stepped past him into the room as he moved aside.
Click.
At the sound of the door closing behind me, I turned around. He had let go of the doorknob and was already standing close, closing the distance between us in an instant. Startled by the proximity, I reflexively stepped back, but he suddenly held out a towel—where he had gotten it from, I had no idea.
“Dry my hair for me.”
“……Huh?”
“You said you’d help me for a week.”
Caught off guard, I took the towel he handed me. Still holding onto my hand, he led me to the bed, gently sitting me down before settling himself on the floor. Then, tilting his wet head toward me, he urged, “Hurry up and dry my hair.”
This wasn’t part of the “tasks” the butler had instructed me to do. All I was supposed to do was tidy up his discarded clothes and ask if he needed anything.
“Hurry. I’m going to catch a cold.”
As if. This was the same guy who had lived his entire life without a single bout of illness and would probably just drop dead one day, as if falling into a peaceful sleep. And yet, here he was, claiming he’d get sick just because he didn’t dry his hair.
His ridiculous remark eased some of my tension, and I wrapped the towel around his head. I clumsily moved my fingers, trying to recall how the butler had done it, when he suddenly lifted his head and leaned in slightly.
“Eight years ago, I was the one who dried your hair. Now, the roles are reversed.”
Every time he brought up the past, it unsettled me. Unlike him, who smiled fondly as if reminiscing about a happy memory, I had to force my expression back into place to stop it from twisting. The guilt I had been suppressing began to rear its head again.
When I stayed silent and focused solely on drying his hair, he continued talking on his own—until he abruptly stopped. Looking up at me with clear dissatisfaction, he pouted.
“What are you even—”
Spreading apart his folded knees, he scooted closer, pressing his cheek against my stiffened thigh. The moment I felt his hand creeping further, I grabbed his wrist before he could move any closer. He let out a deep sigh before rubbing his lips lightly against the fabric of my clothes.
“It’s so damn hard to get you to say anything, Seo-yul hyung.”
“Don’t do this.”
Looking up at me, he smiled—an effortlessly beautiful expression that, even in this moment, stole my breath away. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers against my cheek, which was beginning to flush with heat.
His touch was full of affection. He didn’t need to say it out loud—I could already tell his feelings hadn’t changed. He was making it so painfully obvious that he still liked me. How could I not notice?
“Don’t touch me however you want.”
Before I could waver any further, I pushed his hand away. His fingers lingered in midair for a moment before he slowly withdrew them. Then, placing his hands on the bed, he leaned in, forcing me to bend backward.
Trying to avoid him, I didn’t even notice when the soft blankets met my back. By the time I realized it, I was lying down, completely trapped beneath him. He stretched out his arms, caging me in completely. There was no way out.
“Get off of me.”
“That ridiculous formal speech again.”
“Then what exactly am I supposed to—”
“Just talk comfortably.”
He was relentless. I didn’t remember him being like this before, but his unfamiliar demeanor made me acutely aware of the eight-year gap between us.
I wanted to push him away, but with the loose folds of his robe exposing his bare chest, I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. Frozen in place, I had no way to escape. As he looked down at me, his lips curved into a gentle smile, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“It’s only a week. Can’t you at least let things be the way they used to? Just call me Vin, like before, and be kind to me. Just like you used to, Seo-yul hyung.”
He kept saying things that were impossible. How could I treat him the way I used to? Just locking eyes with him like this made guilt surge through me—there was no way I could call him Vin again.
The truth was, I had wanted to say it so many times. From the moment we met again, I had wanted to call him by the name I had given him. And I had wanted to be honest with him. To confess that I had missed him desperately. That I was so, so sorry.
“You know what? Seo-yul hyung never once told me he missed me.”
“…….”
“But it’s okay. Your eyes are saying it for you.”
His lips brushed against my eyelid. A light kiss. The soft peck faded, and when I opened my eyes again, I couldn’t hide my turmoil. I could see my own face reflected in his gaze—I must have looked like a complete fool.
How ridiculous I must seem, pretending with my words as if nothing affected me, while my emotions lay bare on my face. Guilt twisted inside me, accompanied by shame.
“Move… Get off me.”
I barely forced the words out past my lips. He shook his head. It was a gentle but firm refusal, and the sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed me. I pushed against his shoulders hard. But he didn’t budge. Not even a little.
“Move.”
I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to hold myself together. If I didn’t, I felt like tears would spill over uncontrollably. I had to fight it with everything I had. He stared at me for a long moment before finally, slowly, lifting himself off me.
I scrambled away from him, putting as much distance between us as I could. Without thinking, I threw the towel at him and turned toward the door. The thought that he had seen everything I had tried so hard to keep hidden made it unbearable to stay here a second longer.
“Don’t go.”
But before I could open the door, his voice stopped me.
Even though I didn’t have the courage to look back, the weight of his voice alone was enough to freeze me in place.
My hand trembled against the doorknob. As I stood there, unmoving, I heard him stir. The bedsprings creaked in the quiet room, followed by the sound of his footsteps approaching.
Then, his arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
A soft floral scent washed over me, gentle yet filled with emotion. It wasn’t overpowering, but I could feel it—this scent was steeped in sorrow.
“The past eight years were hell for me. Do you know how I survived, surrounded by bastards who didn’t even see me as human? Every time I wanted to die, I thought of you, Seo-yul hyung.”
His whisper sliced through me, tearing me apart over and over again.
He turned me around and rested his forehead against my shoulder. His weight against me felt heavier than the weight of the world.
The weight of my guilt.
“I’m still the same pathetic guy. So please, take care of me. Look at me with pity again, like you used to.”
How could I possibly treat you the way I used to?
