Chapter 159
As Hyeon-woo entered, he saw the faces of the employees who had already arrived looking cheerful. They must have enjoyed their holiday.
Scott, who was in the kitchen, gave Hyeon-woo a signal. It meant Tae-geon’s meal was ready. Hyeon-woo discreetly hid the paper bag he was carrying in the bottom shelf of the trolley before heading to the elevator.
Today’s breakfast was tteokguk (rice cake soup). He had eaten the same dish with Jerome yesterday. However, this one looked so much better than what he had made that he felt sorry for Jerome. Not only was it beautifully garnished with toppings, green and red peppers, but the clear taste of the broth made from beef bones was also exceptional.
Hyeon-woo finished the tteokguk served in a milky gold-colored brass bowl without leaving a drop. The dessert was sikhye (sweet rice drink) and yakgwa (traditional Korean confection), which paired well with tteokguk. As Hyeon-woo was sipping the icy sikhye, Tae-geon’s voice drifted to his ears.
“Did you have a good New Year’s?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat a lot of good food?”
“Yes.”
Hyeon-woo, who had been answering cheerfully, suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!” as if remembering something.
“I have something for you.”
Then came the sound of rustling as he busily prepared something. Tae-geon focused quietly on the sound. Something from the paper bag was placed in front of Tae-geon with a dull “thud.”
“…What is this?”
“It’s a belated Christmas gift.”
“……”
“Open it.”
Surprised by the unexpected situation, Tae-geon slowly reached out and felt the object in front of him. It was a paper box decorated with a ribbon. He carefully untied the knot and removed the wrapping paper. Then he opened the box and took out the object inside.
Tae-geon’s hands moved carefully as he felt the unknown wooden object. In the center of a circular base stood a square pillar with a pointed top, surrounded by what felt like a rail. As expected, as his hand followed it, he felt a three-car train.
“What is this?”
It seemed like a decorative item, but he didn’t think someone would give him something meant for visual appreciation when he couldn’t see.
“There’s a spring here. Try winding it.”
Hyeon-woo guided Tae-geon’s hand to the side of the base. His fingertips caught on a protruding spring. As Tae-geon turned it, the train began to move along the rail, and a pleasant melody played.
“It’s a music box made of birch wood.”
“……”
“The flower language of birch is…”
Hyeon-woo, who was about to say it unconsciously, trailed off.
‘I await you.’
For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words out loud. Hyeon-woo quickly changed the subject.
“Sometimes the mansion might feel too quiet and scary, right? Whenever that happens, you can just wind this.”
The melody that flowed was clear and friendly, yet somehow had a melancholic edge. Hyeon-woo asked Tae-geon, who sat motionless, seemingly enchanted by the sound, still holding the music box.
“Do you like it?”
“…Yes, I like it very much. Thank you.”
Seeing Tae-geon’s satisfaction made Hyeon-woo feel proud. It was as if this small object had made the bleak room, which had felt devoid of any warmth, seem a bit more like a living space.
“Actually, there’s one more gift.”
Rustle.
The sound of something else being taken out of the paper bag was heard. The fluttering of thick paper seemed to be a book.
“Today will be really interesting. I brought the most popular one.”
“……”
“I’ll clean up quickly and read it to you.”
After delivering the empty dishes to the kitchen and returning to the room, Hyeon-woo found Tae-geon sitting at the table, just as before. The room was filled with the gentle melody of the music box.
As the spring of the music box would unwind, Tae-geon would wind it again and again, not letting the melody end. Tae-geon’s face, as he wound the spring mechanically, somehow looked troubled. He looked confused, as if facing a major decision and unable to find direction, which was very unlike him. Hyeon-woo blinked in surprise at this unusual sight.
What could he be pondering so deeply?
His black eyes, usually inscrutable as if veiled, now seemed even more mysterious without their usual spark. As the melody continued again, Hyeon-woo hurried over to Tae-geon.
Sensing his presence, Tae-geon finally withdrew his hand from the spring. Hyeon-woo sat down in his usual spot and pulled over the book he had set aside earlier.
“It’s a mystery novel. They say it’s a famous bestseller.”
Hyeon-woo slowly began to read aloud the first page of the novel he held.
How much time had passed? Hyeon-woo, who had been reading the text with his head buried in the book for a while, suddenly looked up with a strange feeling. He was startled to find his eyes meeting Tae-geon’s, who was staring intently at his face.
It seemed Tae-geon hadn’t been focusing on the content at all. If he had been following the book’s plot, which had just reached its climax as the details of the long-mysterious murder case were being revealed, he certainly wouldn’t have been looking at Hyeon-woo with such a wistful expression.
Again. He was looking at him with that gaze again.
Thud.
Unable to bear it, Hyeon-woo closed the book roughly.
“Which city did the protagonist escape to?”
“……”
“Are you even listening properly?”
“……”
Tae-geon, who couldn’t remember even the characters’ names, let alone the plot, suddenly recited the last phrase Hyeon-woo had read.
“…’That night, we became accomplices’ is the last I heard.”
“What was the charge?”
“……”
“Haah…”
Hyeon-woo sighed deeply at Tae-geon’s silence. It was clear he had been focusing only on Hyeon-woo’s voice, not the content of the book.
This situation repeated several times afterward.
Hyeon-woo eventually gave up trying to convey the content to Tae-geon, who always asked for books to be read but was more interested in Hyeon-woo’s voice than the actual story. He ended up just reading the text meaninglessly, like a voice support service.
Perhaps Tae-geon had been missing the sound of a human voice?
As it wasn’t the first or second time Hyeon-woo couldn’t understand Tae-geon, he let it slide without much thought.
*
After finishing his daily routine and having a short phone call with Jerome, Hyeon-woo hurried to prepare for bed. While organizing his uniform for tomorrow after washing up, he discovered that the button on the right sleeve cuff of his jacket was missing.
The button that should have been exactly where Tae-geon had grabbed his wrist when asking for braised lotus root was gone. It seemed to have fallen off at that time.
Thinking he should mention it to the manager when he got the chance, Hyeon-woo lay down in bed. However, he couldn’t fall asleep easily due to a tightness in his chest. It was because of Tae-geon’s upcoming rut.
Although he was helping Tae-geon endure his rut without medication, based on Hak-gyu’s statement that it would take about three months for Tae-geon’s paralyzed sense of smell to recover, they couldn’t rule out the possibility that Tae-geon might never regain his sense of smell.
If that happened, all the time he had spent by Tae-geon’s side would become meaningless. He couldn’t waste any more time like this.
Moreover, he had thoroughly realized during Tae-geon’s last rut that his own pheromones alone were not enough to subdue Tae-geon’s rut. He was no longer keen on intervening in Tae-geon’s ruts, which required increasingly deeper physical contact.
Hyeon-woo bit his lip as he recalled Tae-geon’s last rut.
Caught up in the atmosphere, he too had become highly aroused. The momentary pleasure was brief. The subsequent embarrassment, discomfort, and uneasiness had lingered for a long time, disturbing his thoughts. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake again.
Although it was a sorry thought for Tae-geon, who was suffering from imprinting, Hyeon-woo felt that if he had already lost his sense of smell, there was nothing more that could be done.
He had done his best. He had meddled out of conscience and guilt when he could have just ignored it. But it seemed that even that had come to an end. It was time to finish hiding his identity from Tae-geon and secretly alleviating Tae-geon’s imprinting pain.
First, he should greet him, right? Say “Hello.” Of course, he knew well that things hadn’t been “hello” at all until now.
After that, he should reveal his name…
Hyeon-woo imagined his reunion with Tae-geon in his mind.
Hello. I’m Hyeon-woo. Surprised?
Actually, I’ve been staying by your side all this time for a reason. I’m curious if the traffic accident that killed my parents is related to your accident. If you know anything, can you tell me?
Hyeon-woo gave a bitter smile at this terribly selfish speech that would put anyone off.
If he had known it would be like this, he should have revealed his identity earlier. Of course, it wouldn’t have been easy.
Maybe he hadn’t done anything until now to pass all this onto Tae-geon. Using the three-month grace period for smell recovery as an excuse, waiting for Tae-geon to recognize him first.
“Huu…”
Feeling frustrated, Hyeon-woo let out a deep sigh and tossed in his bed.
His mind was troubled, not knowing how to take the first step towards the truth.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
