A dark bedroom.
Evan’s face was soaked wet as he collapsed to his knees in front of Siwoo, who was sleeping peacefully.
What he was thinking when he left Sangjun’s studio, what state of mind he was in when he came here—none of that mattered.
The reason he didn’t speak of the future.
The reason our conversations about the same space but different time periods didn’t cross paths.
The reason he told me goodbye today—it was all melted into the lyrics Siwoo had written down.
‘When you look at the lyrics, they’re somehow ticklish and sweet, but Siwoo said what he wanted to convey through these lyrics was a cursed fate.’
With those words from Sangjun, Evan had rushed out of there.
A cursed fate.
It was an exquisitely fitting explanation. No one would know what emotions Siwoo held as he repeatedly wrote, erased, and revised these lyrics countless times.
He was the only one who could fully understand the lyrics that connected like a riddle. Even knowing there would be no one to recognize it, it seemed Siwoo wanted to release it this way.
Asking to be recognized. Please, remember.
No. This wasn’t asking others to understand. He must have wanted to preserve his memories that fade with time in this way. The words Siwoo carefully selected were all clues that would extend the disappearing memories even a little longer.
Evan’s lips touched Siwoo’s forehead. His trembling lips wandered here and there across Siwoo’s face.
How long had he been trapped?
That piercing loneliness he occasionally felt and that endless darkness, the appearance of standing precariously on a pitch-black abyss of unknowable depth—none of it had been his imagination.
Siwoo had been walking the same path as him. Even knowing that what remained at the end was futility, he had worked hard, challenged himself, and filled each day like that.
Circling and circling and circling through a time with a predetermined end.
His superior dance learning ability, the reason he remained composed despite countless unexpected situations during live broadcasts, the reason he showed the choreography for all the songs when hanging out with the ‘Journey’ members in the past timeline—it was all because he already knew everything.
Perhaps Siwoo had continued to remain in this industry as one of the countless hopefuls who never made it and stayed buried.
He had said only he could do ‘Lucifer’. Siwoo knew that he was the main for ‘Lucifer’ every time.
What kind of eyes had he looked at him with? When he told Siwoo he didn’t want to do individual activities, Siwoo had snapped at him with a cold expression. Saying he might regret it. That he didn’t know where the end he could reach was, and that he didn’t want to block that path.
If Siwoo remembered him like that, why hadn’t he known?
Among all those repeating long times, the past timeline was the first time Evan had seen Siwoo.
‘I want to try doing an overseas tour concert.’
‘I also want to be invited to music awards and go.’
‘There’s so much I want to try.’
‘I told you I’d do it all. I want to do an overseas tour concert, and I want to go to music awards. And I said I wanted to get along well with you too. You’re such an idiot, a moron. Evan. Ugh… I don’t even know why I’m doing this when I like someone like you.’
It had been sincere. Siwoo was always sincere and never hid it.
He felt like he could understand a little of that heart that didn’t want to give up either the idol life or the relationship with him. He must have thought this was the last time. Because when he regressed again, all that would remain would be memories.
Various emotions became complexly entangled in Evan’s touch and gaze as he stroked sleeping Siwoo.
* * *
Siwoo, who had slowly opened his eyes, closed them again.
His entire body from head to toe sank heavily. It felt like it was his body but not his body.
Siwoo’s hand, eyes closed in a prone position as per his usual sleeping habit, moved slowly, and soon that hand covered his nape.
Simultaneously with his fingertips moving minutely, Siwoo’s tightly closed eyebrows became wet. As a sigh flowed out between his lightly trembling lips, a round mark formed on the pillowcase.
Even without opening his eyes to check, he could feel that he was alone in this space. Only Evan’s pheromone remaining thick informed him that he had been here until just a moment ago. Siwoo’s hand, who turned over to lie on his back, this time covered his lower abdomen.
What had they done?
He didn’t remember when Evan, who had left after he bid him farewell, had returned.
When he came to his senses, he was already embracing him. He collapsed helplessly under those hands and lips that softly coaxed and soothed him.
They had spent countless nights together so far, but it had never been like this.
He had always thought it was the limit, and believed there was nothing beyond that.
Evan’s movements, angry yet sad, passionate yet gentle, were too much for him to follow. Through this, he clearly realized how Evan had been considerate of him all along.
The moment Evan’s lips, which had been endlessly penetrating as he grabbed the waist of Siwoo who was crying while hugging a pillow, touched his nape, Siwoo struggled to escape his embrace. He tried to avoid it somehow, but Evan’s teeth finally dug into his neck.
His last memory was feeling Evan’s thing, deeply embedded inside him, swelling up.
With the bite mark clearly remaining on his nape felt at his fingertips and his hand placed on his uncomfortable lower abdomen, Siwoo didn’t want to think about anything.
Evan had completed both the imprinting and knotting that he had never even attempted until now, all at once without a moment’s hesitation.
Why… were you crying?
The reason he couldn’t push Evan away in the end was because he knew his emotions. He wished he didn’t know. He couldn’t push him away cruelly and could only embrace him as he burrowed into him.
He had been the one clinging and pleading to Evan, who tried to maintain proper boundaries, as if it were the last time, but last night’s Evan resembled him exactly.
It really felt like the last time.
Siwoo, who sat up his body that weighed a thousand tons, tried to support his body by placing one hand down but opened his eyes at the rustling sound.
Instead of the soft, fluffy blanket’s texture, what crumpled in his hand was paper.
White would be paper, black would be letters.
The fact that this paper was on the bed where his hand could reach meant that Evan had deliberately left it there.
Unable to muster the courage to read it, Siwoo turned his head to the other side.
Looking at the orange light seeping in through the window with only thin inner curtains drawn, it seemed to be late afternoon.
Where did he go, leaving only this paper? What’s written on it?
What happened with the scandal with MBX Hwanhee?
What did he want to say all night long?
“……Ha.”
Letting out a deep sigh, Siwoo grabbed the rustling paper. Whatever content it contained, he had to accept it.
Remember the moment I met my pair.
My heart trembled enough to sink.
You, whose even surprised expression was pretty.
You, who were busy running away.
We’re so alike.
We wore a cat headband
and a black panther headband.
You’re not alone.
It’s our story.
In my repeating life,
at twenty-three years old when I wanted to let go of everything,
it was you who protected me.
I remember you shining in the beautiful sunset.
Not calling me was too much.
Our busking together.
My sincerity pushed aside by plums.
I’m with you.
It’s our love story.
I wanted to give you the world.
I’m the one who ruined everything.
The confession I couldn’t convey in the end.
To me running on a Möbius strip,
living in the gap of endlessly tangled time, my everything
is now you.
I’ll do it.
I’ll find it.
I’ll approach you.
Let’s just love now.
It’s our destiny
baby, I love you.
In my repeating life,
at twenty-one years old who wants to start everything again,
it’s us forever who are with me.
Siwoo slowly read down the neat letters. Round droplets fell drop by drop onto the white paper. Finally, one droplet fell onto the letters and the characters blurred hazily.
Though he read to the end, Siwoo was reading from the beginning again.
There were no traces of crossing out lines or complex traces of adding and removing.
Droplets continued to fall onto the cleanly written text on the white paper, causing the ink to blur here and there, but Siwoo continued to repeatedly read and read the same content again.
With one hand holding the paper, his other hand traced the mark of the imprint Evan had made.
Siwoo’s lips, his eyes soaked wet, slowly curved in an arc. A soft smile spread across his lips, and Siwoo, who put down the paper, hurriedly wiped his wet face with his hand.
Finally, the lyrics he had revised over and over again were complete.
So perfect that there was nothing more to touch.
When he felt a presence outside, Siwoo quickly pushed off the blanket and lowered both feet below the bed. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t see Evan’s face right now. His body, which had been so heavy he didn’t want to move at all just moments ago, moved on its own.
“You’re up?”
Evan opening the bedroom door was faster than Siwoo getting up from the bed, and his soft voice and pheromone warmly enveloped Siwoo like a spring breeze.
“You should have told me!”
Even at Siwoo’s sulky words, unable to say “I love you” or shed tears of emotion like sweet cotton candy behavior, a bright smile bloomed on Evan’s face.
“The lyrics. Do you like them?”
“Come here.”
Evan, who approached Siwoo who was giving orders in a completely hoarse voice while making a deliberately serious expression, sat down low below the bed.
“I think I need to bite you too. You have no right to refuse.”
Though the red lips, swollen from him biting and sucking last night, twitched and his wet eyes sparkled, as expected, Siwoo maintained his blunt and cold tone.
“How about eating bean sprout hangover soup first before that? It’s delicious when you eat it warm. Ah! There’s also frozen persimmon for dessert. I think we ate too many plums.”
Looking up at Siwoo, Evan winked playfully.
“Did Grandma make it?”
Where did Siwoo who was being cold just now go? Siwoo’s voice, smiling brightly as he asked back, was full of anticipation.
“Yeah. Let’s eat first and I’ll give you a chance to bite as much as you want.”
Many words weren’t really necessary. Because there was plenty and plenty of time.
Not memories made alone and cherished alone while taking them out bit by bit, but memories created together by the two of them—that was starting from now.
