Chapter 196
When Hyeon-woo’s eyes shone with vitality as he looked at Jerome, Tae-geon felt a sense of fulfillment in a corner of his heart. Jerome was the being who had pulled Hyeon-woo out of the pit of despair that Tae-geon had pushed him into. Tae-geon had tried to accept Jerome, who made Hyeon-woo smile like that by his side. No, he had been trying – until he found Hyeon-woo’s magazine in Jerome’s room.
The moment he learned that Jerome’s biological father, whom he thought was dead, was alive, Tae-geon’s feelings towards Jerome no longer moved as he had thought they would. Every time he saw Jerome’s blue eyes, he was reminded of that man. Intense jealousy and discomfort rose like flames, tormenting Tae-geon frequently.
Even after washing up and lying in bed to sleep, the tumultuous thoughts wouldn’t leave his mind. After tossing and turning for a while, Tae-geon finally threw off the covers and got up, heading towards the terrace.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, he could see the night sky steeped in deep darkness and the stars scattered across it. The trees, rising lushly at different heights, swayed in the wind, creating rhythmic waves.
Staring blankly at this scenery, Tae-geon lowered his head and gazed intently at his right palm.
…Surely Jerome’s hand had once rested in this palm.
The sensation of Jerome’s small, soft hand digging into his palm, making his hair stand on end, was still vivid. For some reason, his heart had swelled when that soft, fragile thing that Hyeon-woo had fiercely protected relied on him. Without realizing it, he had tightly grasped Jerome’s hand just a short while ago.
But now, he didn’t want to touch even a fingertip. A terrible sense of rejection arose. Tae-geon was truly afraid of coming into contact with Jerome’s warmth.
The more time he spent with Jerome, the more he realized what Jerome meant to Hyeon-woo, and in proportion, his self-loathing grew increasingly larger. It felt as if Jerome’s blue eyes were reflecting his ugly inner thoughts like a mirror, reproaching him.
Tae-geon, who had been staring blankly at his hand, clenched his fist tightly.
The identity of the self-loathing that choked him every time he faced Jerome was none other than a sense of guilt.
Jerome’s existence, perfectly resembling that man’s blue eyes and Hyeon-woo’s black hair, was clear evidence that the two had once deeply become one, sharing each other’s warmth, hearts, and bodies – and this was nothing short of a sin to Tae-geon. It was the very embodiment of sin that stirred up all sorts of wicked emotions.
[Q. It’s so romantic that the hair color of your loved one is a victory charm. Can we expect good news about you two?
Well… (laughs) No comment.]
The interview he had seen in the magazine he held on the day Jerome had run out of the room crying now completely occupied Tae-geon’s mind, without missing a single word.
Tae-geon’s hand trembled slightly as he ran it through his hair.
It wasn’t hard to guess that Hyeon-woo was that man’s first love. Part of the CCTV footage that the hair salon he frequently visited had sold to the media for a high price was floating around carelessly on the web.
The footage captured the gesture of his companion pushing away the man who was joking around while sticking out his newly dyed black hair. Although the image quality was terrible and faces couldn’t be seen clearly, Tae-geon instinctively knew that the man’s companion in the video was Hyeon-woo.
If only, as Hyeon-woo had said, the other person had merely been a pathetic drug addict, Tae-geon wouldn’t have felt this way about the fact that he was alive and not dead.
The man’s sincere lingering feelings for Hyeon-woo, his eyes bluer and deeper than the sea, kept stirring Tae-geon’s mind. Every time Jerome stared at him with eyes that were the spitting image of that man’s, Tae-geon was overwhelmed by a miserable feeling.
Tae-geon’s chest heaved roughly as he took deep breaths as if suffocating. Destructive impulses ran wild, unable to find direction. Terrible self-loathing engulfed Tae-geon.
Did he even have the right to be jealous? He had only taken from Hyeon-woo, never giving anything. He had shattered Hyeon-woo, seizing his body, heart, and even his soul, demanding he hand everything over so he could grasp it all in his hands.
And now, by what right was he so jealous of the person who had given Hyeon-woo something precious beyond compare? Tae-geon felt intense self-hatred towards his shameless self. Yet he found himself utterly disgusting for still being unable to let go of his greed for Hyeon-woo.
Tae-geon finally realized why he had been so afraid of touching Jerome.
It was because he was filthy. He simply couldn’t touch Jerome with his disgustingly polluted hands. He dared not sully that soft, fragile, warm thing that Hyeon-woo had preciously protected while enduring harsh trials in his place.
As Tae-geon faced the reality of his fear and was about to let out a bitter laugh, he saw something strange.
Not far beyond the terrace, in the forest, he saw white smoke along with an odd light being emitted. Tae-geon’s eyebrow twitched at the eerie yet familiar sense of déjà vu that stirred a memory deeply rooted in his subconscious.
As he intently watched it with narrowed eyes, an orange flame, flickering red like the sun, suddenly flared up in Tae-geon’s black pupils.
Tae-geon’s face, which had been gauging the location with a surprised expression, soon turned pale.
*
During dinner, Jerome had tried to naturally wheedle Uncle Tae-geon into going to the cabin, but failed.
At first, he had some courage, but when he felt that Uncle seemed to avoid touching him as he handed over the fork, fear suddenly overwhelmed him. He felt that if he brought up the cabin, Uncle might glare at him with those scary eyes again like last time.
Dad would surely say not to go. No, maybe Dad wouldn’t even believe his words. The sense of injustice he had felt at kindergarten flared up again. Jerome’s shoulders shook as he breathed heavily.
It wasn’t a lie. It was true. He wanted to prove it to that friend who had made him out to be a liar.
‘Then bring it! Bring that stocking! If it’s not a lie, bring it!’
The stocking that had been hanging on the fireplace flashed before Jerome’s eyes. He couldn’t think of anything else but that he had to bring the stocking.
Jerome approached the window and confirmed that it was still bright outside. He had to go and come back quickly before night fell. The way to the cabin was in his head.
Jerome, who had even diligently slung his kindergarten bag over his shoulder to put the stocking in, made up his mind and flung open the door. After peeking out to make sure no one was in the hallway, he immediately started running towards the west gate he had gone out through with Uncle Tae-geon.
Surely, this was the right way.
He had confidently entered the forest, but at some point, it felt like he was just going around in circles. It seemed like the cabin should appear any moment now, but it was nowhere to be found. Stubbornly, Jerome started walking again.
How long had he been walking? As his vision gradually darkened and it became difficult to distinguish his surroundings, Jerome suddenly came to his senses. Night had fallen without him realizing.
Caw- Caw-.
At the sound of crows cawing, Jerome’s shoulders flinched and his heart started pounding. He hurriedly turned around, trying to recall the path he had taken, but he couldn’t remember how he had gotten here.
Belatedly realizing the reality of his situation, Jerome looked around, terrified. The mountain wind fiercely enveloped him. It certainly hadn’t been this cold until just a while ago, but now an intense chill started to penetrate Jerome.
Shivering all over from the cold and fear, Jerome whimpered.
“Daddy…”
Whoosh-.
The sound of dry leaves rustling against each other sent chills down his spine. It felt like a ghost might jump out of the dark undergrowth at any moment.
“Hnngh.”
I shouldn’t have come alone. Terrified, Jerome started running aimlessly as if fleeing from ghosts. After sprinting for a while, treading on ground that was less overgrown and easier to walk on, Jerome spotted something large with a familiar silhouette in the distance.
Jerome approached it, panting. It was a small log cabin. The cabin he had been so desperately searching for had finally appeared before his eyes.
Color returned to Jerome’s pale face. He pulled on the door with all his might. The old door opened with a creak.
Stepping inside, Jerome quickly wrapped himself in a blanket lying on a rocking chair. However, the chill that made his whole body tremble wouldn’t go away. The cold of the mountains was too intense. As Jerome blew on his stiff, curled-up hands – hoo, hoo – he spotted a fireplace filled with firewood.
How did Uncle Tae-geon light the fire there again?
As Jerome looked around the interior, trying to remember, his eyes fell on an octagonal box placed right next to the entrance he had just come through. It was a box with red flames drawn on it.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
