Wait—wait a minute. Did that mean all those times weren’t just his imagination? The memories flooded back: Do-young creating excuses, the “accidental” touches, the moments Yiwoo had agonized over—had they all been real? Ah. So those weren’t misunderstandings after all.
“You—you cheat!”
Yiwoo’s raw, angry shout was muffled by a soft kiss on his still-damp hair.
“I’ll just lock the door and be right back.”
“W-wait!”
Ignoring the pain in his lower back and throat, Yiwoo tried to shout, but Do-young’s broad back was already disappearing out the door. Stunned, Yiwoo heard the click of the front door and snapped back to reality, shouting again.
“Hey! Seo Do-yoooong! Ugh…”
A sharp pain shot through him, and Yiwoo winced, curling in on himself. Tears welled in his eyes.
It was unfair. Unfair enough to drive him crazy. All this time, he’d thought he was imagining things, suffering in silence, falling for Do-young’s schemes—only to realize it had all been real. And now, his own heart was irrevocably tangled in it all.
***
Vrrrrr. The loud hairdryer made Yiwoo’s ears ring. He lay face-down on the bed, groaning, while Do-young carefully dried his hair. When Yiwoo’s voice cracked, Do-young brought him water. When his stomach growled, Do-young reheated pizza. But none of that helped the ache in his lower back—the culprit being Do-young himself.
“I’m fine now. Go rest.”
Yiwoo’s weak voice trailed off before he could add, You pushed yourself too, didn’t you? How had things even ended up like this? His thoughts spiraled, but he forced them away. Thinking would only make his head hurt. Besides, it wasn’t the worst situation—except for the throbbing in his lower half.
Do-young ignored Yiwoo’s protest and kept drying his hair before finally setting the dryer down and standing up.
“I’ll run home for a bit.”
Yiwoo, about to agree, suddenly hesitated. He stared up at Do-young.
“The door… it won’t open, right?”
“The door opens.”
“…Wait, what?”
“The door lock is broken, but the door itself is unlocked.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Yiwoo tried to sit up, but a dull, sharp pain shot through his lower back. Ugh. He collapsed back onto the bed, scowling.
“Why… why is it like that?”
“I removed the inner mechanism while it was unlocked.”
Yiwoo’s mind went blank. Memories flooded in: Do-young using every little excuse to call him, creating situations, the “accidental” touches—had it all been intentional? Ah. So those weren’t misunderstandings. Every time, every moment—it had all been real.
“You—you fraud!”
Yiwoo’s raw shout was cut off by a soft kiss on his still-damp hair.
“I’ll just lock the door and be right back.”
“H-hey!”
Ignoring the pain in his back and throat, Yiwoo shouted, but Do-young’s broad back was already out the door. Stunned, Yiwoo heard the click of the front door and snapped back to reality, shouting again.
“Yaaah! Seo Do-yoooong! Ugh…”
The sharp pain made him wince, his face twisting. Tears welled in his eyes.
It was unfair. Unfair enough to drive him crazy. All this time, he’d thought he was imagining things, suffering in silence, falling for Do-young’s schemes—only to realize it had all been real. And now, his own heart was irrevocably tangled in it all.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
