Their sharpened gazes slashed at each other. Gwok Un’s eyes flashed.
“How bold of you — I’m looking forward to it. About five months left, wasn’t it? You’d better give it everything you’ve got. It could end up being your last work, after all.”
Gwok Un snarled and shoved Gi-hyeon’s shoulder. Hearing the door slam shut, Gi-hyeon approached the bed. He gritted his back teeth at the sight of Do-gyeom hunching his shoulders at the sound of footsteps. He carefully undid the bound hands and removed the blindfold.
“Hmm……”
Do-gyeom’s eyes blinked as they adjusted to the light. His eyelashes were soaked through from however long he had been crying. He stared blankly at the ceiling, then raised his arm to cover his face. His jaw trembled finely as he held back his sobs. At the devastating sight, Gi-hyeon impulsively pulled him into his arms.
“Aah——!!”
Do-gyeom thrashed and violently pushed him away. He seemed more startled than Gi-hyeon by the reaction that had come out of him without his own knowing. His eyes were consumed with panic.
“That was…… my hands, no, I’m sorry……. I mean my hands, because of my hands——”
Do-gyeom stumbled over his words as if making excuses. His voice was like the hands of someone who had gone blind. Gi-hyeon silently pulled the blanket over and wrapped it around him. Once the naked body was covered, the trembling in those anxious eyes gradually stilled. He carefully held Do-gyeom, bundled in the blanket, and whispered like a prayer.
“Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay……”
Whether the words it’s okay were meant for himself or for Do-gyeom, he couldn’t tell. He repeated the same words like a lullaby.
“I’m here now. Everything’s okay.”
At the soothing, coaxing touch, Do-gyeom broke into tears. Like a dam built over a long time finally breaking, he cried for a long while. Gi-hyeon’s neck grew damp and wet. He held Do-gyeom in his arms with his whole body. Do-gyeom too clung desperately to the warmth enveloping him.
Ahead of the first confirmation, the servants were busily moving the painting to the study. The new servants writhed their bodies suggestively, conscious of Gwok Un sinking into the sofa. The Butler appeared displeased with their transparent behavior but placed no restraint on it. He seemed unwilling to ruin the rare change of mood.
But contrary to the Butler’s hopes, Gwok Un appeared to have not the slightest interest in the painting. The servants who had been lingering even after moving it received a sharp look from the Butler and left. The only sound in the bedroom was Gwok Un pouring whiskey. Seeing the signs of a heavy drinking bout, the Butler was about to stop him when a phone call came in and he stepped away. Free of any interference, Gwok Un picked up his full glass and turned his gaze to the painting.
“……!”
The moment the image formed on his retinas, he threw down the glass and dashed toward the painting. Light seeped into eyes that had been sunken in grief, having forgotten even to eat or sleep. He stared for a long while at the sublime god wearing his own face. Just as Gi-hyeon had done, those sharp eyes combed through every detail of the god — down to the wisps of hair at the temples and the texture of the skin. Having finished his examination, he drew in a deep breath like a leopard catching the scent of an unknown creature.
“The range is wide. It reminds me of La Tour. Clichéd, but interesting in that very way……”
The murmuring voice was heavily tinged with turbidity. He gazed quietly at his portrait, submerged in darkness yet radiating light.
“People will find in this painting the reason the classics are beloved across the ages.”
Smiling softly, Gwok Un looked as elegant as the god painted in the portrait.
“I won’t need to have the corpse cleared away after all. Well done. I like it.”
That lasted only a moment — as the Butler urgently pushed open the door, Gwok Un’s face turned frighteningly grave, as if he had sensed something. The Butler looked at him with eyes full of pity.
“……No.”
Gwok Un murmured in a desperate voice. He forced the corners of his mouth upward as if trying to deny the premonition, but his face convulsed mercilessly. Gwok Un, swallowing his words in the silence, rose from his seat. The way he staggered as he walked looked as precarious as a child jumping on the edge of a cliff. He had been forcing each step forward — and finally, he sank to the floor.
“Young Master!!”
The Butler, who had rushed over in a single stride, draped his jacket around Gwok Un’s shoulders. As he was helped out by the Butler, the waiting servants came in. Unlike their ashen-faced master, they were brimming with vitality.
“Good riddance. The mistress seat is finally vacant.”
“Whoever gets into the bedroom tonight will take it.”
“Who was the last one in?”
Listening to the men’s revolting laughter, Gi-hyeon moved his feet without hesitation.
Gi-hyeon buried his face in his hands as he watched the moonlight wavering on the canvas. The life of Gam Eun-hyeong, who had become fodder for people’s gossip — his blue eyes — kept pressing into his mind. Unable to work any longer, Gi-hyeon set down his brush. Having left the studio on impulse, his eyes found Gwok Un and the Butler.
“Young Master, the night air is cold.”
The Butler placed slippers at his feet, but Gwok Un only gazed vacantly at the painting hanging in the kitchen. His eyes were pointed at the painting, yet he was wandering through moments of the past. The Butler swallowed a sigh, took hold of his ankle, and carefully slipped the shoes onto his feet.
“This can’t be.”
Gwok Un lamented in a fractured voice. The words with nowhere to go were filled with affections that had nowhere to go.
“He said he could wake up…… he did, the prognosis won’t be good but even so, he said it wasn’t that slim a chance……”
His tongue butchered the syllables like an old man on the verge of death. Between the disjointed words, a bone-deep ache seeped through.
“Without even getting to bloom properly……”
Mold spread damply at the trailing end of his words. Gwok Un could no longer continue and fell silent. After standing before the painting for a long while, he said with grief.
“Take it out of my sight.”
“Shall I move it to the gallery?”
“……Burn it.”
The Butler stared at Gwok Un in stunned silence. This painting was the first work Gam Eun-hyeong had ever sold, and the first work Gwok Un had ever bought. Even priceless pieces that could not be traded were hung and taken down in the mansion as easily as pages torn from a calendar — but this painting alone had hung there through all four seasons. And now he was saying to burn it. The Butler took hold of his shoulder with comfort and affection, as if to dissuade him. But his comfort did not reach Gwok Un.
“Young Master.”
“Call Do-gyeom.”
“Why?”
At the voice coming from upstairs, the Butler shot a glare up the staircase. Gi-hyeon ignored the gaze stabbing at his cheek and stepped to Gwok Un’s side. He had expected Gwok Un’s cheek to be wet — but contrary to his expectation, it was dry and parched.
“Are you heading out now?”
“If you speak out of turn again, I will no longer stand by and watch.”
The Butler whispered with a look that seemed like he might wring someone’s neck. Gi-hyeon ignored his fierce hostility and turned to Gwok Un. After hesitating for a long while, Gi-hyeon opened his mouth.
“Use me instead.”
“This bastard——!”
The Butler bared his teeth. Gi-hyeon almost felt relieved watching him shed the mask that had been plastered with pretense and reveal his true face.
“You picked me on looks to begin with — I don’t imagine you hired me just to look at.”
Gwok Un’s clouded eyes blinked. He showed no reaction even as Gi-hyeon moved in close enough to kiss him. Gi-hyeon whispered in his ear.
“You might not even think about Eun-hyeong.”
The Butler’s lower jaw ground together with a crack. He roughly pulled Gi-hyeon away and wrapped an arm around Gwok Un’s shoulders. He whispered to Gwok Un, who offered no resistance as he was taken into his hold.
“Young Master, if you need comfort, I will be the one to give it to you. No one knows you better than I do.”
The plea woven into his voice was plain to see. Even this man, who had remained rational even as the one he loved shared his body with others — he was nothing more than just another man after all. A man the same as himself, writhing in a possessive, all-consuming jealousy. Gi-hyeon felt a sense of kinship with the Butler, who had always held his chin high and commanded people from above. But Do-gyeom took precedence over any sympathy he might feel for him. Gi-hyeon extended his hand to Gwok Un.
“I’ll make you forget everything.”
Gam Eun-hyeong, Do-gyeom — whoever. Gwok Un, whose only movement had been the slow blinking of clouded eyes, took Gi-hyeon’s hand — and the Butler’s arms that had been coiled around him fell apart. The Butler watched them move away with a face heavy with defeat.
Arriving in the bedroom, Gwok Un let go of his hand and walked to the vanity. He took the key hanging from the perfume bottle and unlocked the drawer. He reached his hand deep inside the open drawer, and a transparent pill bottle came up with it. Gi-hyeon made no effort to hide his contempt as he looked at the pills in the bottle. Gwok Un tipped the pills into his mouth and watched Gi-hyeon through the mirror.
“Want some?”
“No.”
“It’s just ecstasy.”
Gwok Un, seeing Gi-hyeon give no answer, put one more pill in his mouth. He rolled the pill slowly on his tongue, then turned around and fixed his gaze on Gi-hyeon. A gaze soaked in grief and lust licked over him.
“Gi-hyeon-ah.”
As Gi-hyeon’s startled eyes turned toward him, Gwok Un smiled lewdly.
“I always knew we’d end up like this.”
“……Don’t get the wrong idea. This is a one-time thing.”
“Do you really think so? Ha, it seems like you want to believe that.”
He placed his hand on Gi-hyeon’s shoulder as he sat perched on the bed, and Gi-hyeon stiffened his expression and glared back. Even under that cold gaze, Gwok Un smiled and kissed him. No matter how tenderly Gwok Un bit and sucked, Gi-hyeon’s lips remained stubbornly shut. Gwok Un pulled at his jaw.
“Ugh——!”
A tongue forced its way through the slightly parted lips. The drug slid across the tongue and into him — Gi-hyeon tried to push Gwok Un away, but his throat was seized. Gwok Un whispered with Gi-hyeon’s lip still between his teeth.
“Swallow it. Or shall we do this with Do-gyeom too?”
The thoroughly wet tongue tapped against the roof of his mouth, urging him on. At his threat, Gi-hyeon swallowed the pill — and Gwok Un swept through every corner of his mouth. Gi-hyeon glared at the smugly smiling Gwok Un as though he might kill him. He grabbed Gwok Un by the hair and flipped their positions.
